MR. O’LEARY’S SECOND LOVE.
[Illustration: Mr. O’Leary Charges the Mob]
“You may easily suppose,” began Mr. O’Leary, “that the unhappy
termination of my first passion served as a shield to me for a long
time against my unfortunate tendencies towards the fair; and such was
really the case. I never spoke to a young lady for three years after,
without a reeling in my head, so associated in my mind was love and
sea-sickness. However, at last what will not time do. It was about four
years from the date of this adventure, when I became so, from oblivion
of my former failure, as again to tempt my fortune. My present choice,
in every way unlike the last, was a gay, lively girl, of great animal
spirits, and a considerable turn for raillery, that spared no one; the
members of her own family were not even sacred in her eyes; and her
father, a reverend dean, as frequently figured among the ludicrous as
his neighbours.
“The Evershams had been very old friends of a rich aunt of mine, who
never, by the by, had condescended to notice me till I made their
acquaintance; but no sooner had I done so, than she sent for me, and
gave me to understand that in the event of my succeeding to the hand of
Fanny Eversham, I should be her heir, and the possessor of about sixty
thousand pounds. She did not stop here; but by canvassing the dean in
my favour, speedily put the matter on a most favourable footing, and in
less than two months I was received as the accepted suitor of the fair
Fanny, then one of the reigning belles of Dublin.
“They lived at this time about three miles from town, in a very pretty
country, where I used to pass all my mornings, and many of my evenings
too, in a state of happiness that I should have considered perfect, if
it were not for two unhappy blots—one, the taste of my betrothed for
laughing at her friends; another the diabolical propensity to talk
politics of my intended father-in-law—to the former I could submit; but
with the latter, submission only made bad worse; for he invariably drew
up as I receded, drily observing that with men who had no avowed
opinions, it was ill agreeing; or that, with persons who kept their
politics as a school-boy does his pocket-money, never to spend, and
always ready to change, it was unpleasant to dispute. Such taunts as
these I submitted to as well as I might; secretly resolving, that as I
now knew the meaning of whig and tory, I’d contrive to spend my life,
after marriage, out of the worthy dean’s diocese.
“Time wore on, and at length, to my most pressing solicitations, it was
conceded that a day for our marriage should be appointed. Not even the
unlucky termination of this my second love affair can deprive me of the
happy souvenir of the few weeks which were to intervene before our
destined union.
“The mornings were passed in ransacking all the shops where wedding
finery could be procured—laces, blondes, velvets, and satins, littered
every corner of the deanery—and there was scarcely a carriage in a
coach-maker’s yard in the city that I had not sat and jumped in, to try
the springs, by the special directions of Mrs. Eversham; who never
ceased to impress me with the awful responsibility I was about to take
upon me, in marrying so great a prize as her daughter—a feeling I found
very general among many of my friends at the Kildare-street club.
“Among the many indispensable purchases which I was to make, and about
which Fanny expressed herself more than commonly anxious, was a
saddle-horse for me. She was a great horsewoman, and hated riding with
only a servant; and had given me to understand as much about
half-a-dozen times each day for the last five weeks. How shall I
acknowledge it—equestrianism was never my forte. I had all my life
considerable respect for the horse as an animal, pretty much as I
dreaded a lion or a tiger; but as to my intention of mounting upon the
back of one, and taking a ride, I should as soon have dreamed of taking
an airing upon a giraffe; and as to the thought of buying, feeding, and
maintaining such a beast at my own proper cost, I should just as soon
have determined to purchase a pillory or a ducking-stool, by way of
amusing my leisure hours.
“However, Fanny was obstinate—whether she suspected any thing or not I
cannot say—but nothing seemed to turn her from her purpose; and
although I pleaded a thousand things in delay, yet she each day grew
more impatient, and at last I saw that there was nothing for it but to
submit.
“When I arrived at this last and bold resolve, I could not help feeling
that to possess a horse and not be able to mount him, was only
deferring the ridicule; and as I had so often expressed the difficulty
I felt in suiting myself as a cause of my delay, I could not possibly
come forward with any thing very objectionable, or I should be only the
more laughed at. There was then but one course to take; a fortnight
still intervened before the day which was to make me happy, and I
accordingly resolved to take lessons in riding during the intervals,
and by every endeavour in my power become, if possible, able to pass
muster on the saddle before my bride.
“Poor old Lalouette understood but little of the urgency of the case,
when I requested his leave to take my lessons each morning at six
o’clock, for I dared not absent myself during the day without exciting
suspicion; and never, I will venture to assert, did knight-errant of
old strive harder for the hand of his lady-love than did I during that
weary fortnight, if a hippogriff had been the animal I bestrode,
instead of being, as it was, an old wall-eyed grey, I could not have
felt more misgivings at my temerity, or more proud of my achievement.
In the first three days the unaccustomed exercise proved so severe,
that when I reached the deanery I could hardly move, and crossed the
floor, pretty much as a pair of compasses might be supposed to do if
performing that exploit. Nothing, however, could equal the kindness of
my poor dear mother-in-law in embryo, and even the dean too. Fanny,
indeed, said nothing; but I rather think she was disposed to giggle a
little; but my rheumatism, as it was called, was daily inquired after,
and I was compelled to take some infernal stuff in my port wine at
dinner that nearly made me sick at table.
“‘I am sure you walk too much,’ said Fanny, with one of her knowing
looks. ‘Papa, don’t you think he ought to ride; it would be much better
for him.’
“‘I do, my dear,’ said the dean. ‘But then you see he is so hard to be
pleased in a horse. Your old hunting days have spoiled you; but you
must forget Melton and Grantham, and condescend to keep a hack.’
“I must have looked confoundedly foolish here, for Fanny never took her
eyes off me, and continued to laugh in her own wicked way.
“It was now about the ninth or tenth day of my purgatorial
performances; and certainly if there be any merit in fleshly
mortifications, these religious exercises of mine should stand my part
hereafter. A review had been announced in the Phœnix-park, which Fanny
had expressed herself most desirous to witness; and as the dean would
not permit her to go without a chaperon, I had no means of escape, and
promised to escort her. No sooner had I made this rash pledge, than I
hastened to my confidential friend, Lalouette, and having imparted to
him my entire secret, asked him in a solemn and imposing manner, ‘Can I
do it?’ The old man shook his head dubiously, looked grave, and
muttered at length, ‘Mosch depend on de horse.’ ‘I know it—I know it—I
feel it,’ said I eagerly—‘then where are we to find an animal that will
carry me peaceably through this awful day—I care not for his price?’
“‘Votre affaire ne sera pas trop chere,’ said he.
“‘Why. How do you mean?’ said I.
“He then proceeded to inform me, that by a singularly fortunate chance,
there took place that day an auction of ‘cast horses,’ as they are
termed, which had been used in the horse police force; and that from
long riding, and training to stand fire, nothing could be more suitable
than one of these; being both easy to ride, and not given to start at
noise.
“I could have almost hugged the old fellow for his happy suggestion,
and waited with impatience for three o’clock to come, when we repaired
together to Essex-bridge, at that time the place selected for these
sales.
“I was at first a little shocked at the look of the animals drawn up;
they were most miserably thin—most of them swelled in the legs—few
without sore backs—and not one eye, on an average, in every three; but
still they were all high steppers, and carried a great tail. ‘There’s
your affaire,’ said the old Frenchman, as a long-legged fiddle-headed
beast was led out; turning out his forelegs so as to endanger the man
who walked beside him.
“‘Yes, there’s blood for you, said Charley Dycer, seeing my eye fixed
on the wretched beast; ‘equal to fifteen stone with any foxhounds; safe
in all his paces, and warranted sound; except,’ added he, in a whisper,
‘a slight spavin in both hind legs, ring gone, and a little touched in
the wind.’ Here the animal gave an approving cough. ‘Will any gentleman
say fifty pounds to begin?’ But no gentleman did. A hackney coachman,
however, said five, and the sale was opened; the beast trotting up and
down nearly over the bidders at every moment, and plunging on so that
it was impossible to know what was doing.
“‘Five, ten—fifteen—six pounds—thank you, sir,—guineas’—‘seven pounds,’
said I, bidding against myself, not perceiving that I had spoken last.
‘Thank you, Mr. Moriarty,’ said Dycer, turning towards an invisible
purchaser supposed to be in the crowd. ‘Thank you, sir, you’ll not let
a good one go that way.’ Every one here turned to find out the very
knowing gentleman; but he could no where be seen.
“Dycer resumed, ‘Seven ten for Mr. Moriarty. Going for seven ten—a
cruel sacrifice—there’s action for you—playful beast.’ Here the devil
had stumbled and nearly killed a basket-woman with two children.
“‘Eight,’ said I, with a loud voice.
“‘Eight pounds, quite absurd,’ said Dycer, almost rudely; ‘a charger
like that for eight pounds—going for eight pounds—going—nothing above
eight pounds—no reserve, gentlemen, you are aware of that. They are all
as it were, his majesty’s stud—no reserve whatever—last time, eight
pounds—gone.’
“Amid a very hearty cheer from the mob—God knows why—but a Dublin mob
always cheer—I returned, accompanied by a ragged fellow, leading my new
purchase after me with a bay halter. ‘What is the meaning of those
letters,’ said I, pointing to a very conspicuous G.R. with sundry other
enigmatical signs, burned upon the animal’s hind quarter.
“‘That’s to show he was a po-lice,’ said the fellow with a grin; ‘and
whin ye ride with ladies, ye must turn the decoy side.’
“The auspicious morning at last arrived; and strange to say that the
first waking thought was of the unlucky day that ushered in my yachting
excursion, four years before. Why this was so, I cannot pretend to
guess; there was but little analogy in the circumstances, at least so
far as any thing had then gone. ‘How is Marius?’ said I to my servant,
as he opened my shutters. Here let me mention that a friend of the
Kildare-street club had suggested this name from the remarkably classic
character of my steed’s countenance; his nose, he assured me, was
perfectly Roman.
“‘Marius is doing finely, sir, barring his cough, and the thrifle that
ails his hind legs.’
“‘He’ll carry me quietly, Simon, eh?’
“‘Quietly. I’ll warrant he’ll carry you quietly, if that’s all.’
“Here was comfort. Certainly Simon had lived forty years as pantry boy
with my mother, and knew a great deal about horses. I dressed myself,
therefore, in high spirits; and if my pilot jacket and oil-skin cap in
former days had half persuaded me that I was born for marine
achievements, certainly my cords and tops, that morning, went far to
convince me that I must have once been a very keen sportsman somewhere,
without knowing it. It was a delightful July day that I set out to join
my friends, who having recruited a large party, were to rendezvous at
the corner of Stephen’s-green; thither I proceeded in a certain ambling
trot, which I have often observed is a very favourite pace with timid
horsemen, and gentlemen of the medical profession. I was hailed with a
most hearty welcome by a large party as I turned out of Grafton-street,
among whom I perceived several friends of Miss Eversham, and some young
dragoon officers, not of my acquaintance, but who appeared to know
Fanny intimately, and were laughing heartily with her as I rode up.
“I don’t know if other men have experienced what I am about to mention
or not; but certainly to me there is no more painful sensation than to
find yourself among a number of well-mounted, well-equipped people,
while the animal you yourself bestride seems only fit for the kennel.
Every look that is cast at your unlucky steed—every whispered
observation about you are so many thorns in your flesh, till at last
you begin to feel that your appearance is for very little else than the
amusement and mirth of the assembly; and every time you rise in your
stirrups you excite a laugh.
“‘Where for mercy’s sake did you find that creature?’ said Fanny,
surveying Marius through her glass.
“‘Oh, him, eh? Why he is a handsome horse, if in condition—a charger
your know—that’s his style.’
“‘Indeed,’ lisped a young lancer, ‘I should be devilish sorry to charge
or be charged with him.’ And here they all chuckled at this puppy’s
silly joke, and I drew up to repress further liberties.
“‘Is he anything of a fencer?’ said a young country gentleman.
“‘To judge from his near eye, I should say much more of a boxer,’ said
another.
“Here commenced a running fire of pleasantry at the expense of my poor
steed; which, not content with attacking his physical, extended to his
moral qualities. An old gentleman near me observing, ‘that I ought not
to have mounted him at all, seeing he was so damned groggy;’ to which I
replied, by insinuating, that if others present were as free from the
influence of ardent spirits, society would not be a sufferer; an
observation that I flatter myself turned the mirth against the old
fellow, for they all laughed for a quarter of an hour after.
“Well, at last we set out in a brisk trot, and, placed near Fanny, I
speedily forgot all my annoyances in the prospect of figuring to
advantage before her. When we reached College-green the leaders of the
cortege suddenly drew up, and we soon found that the entire street
opposite the Bank was filled with a dense mob of people, who appeared
to be swayed hither and thither, like some mighty beast, as the
individuals composing it were engaged in close conflict. It was nothing
more nor less than one of those almost weekly rows, which then took
place between the students of the University and the town’s-people, and
which rarely ended without serious consequences. The numbers of people
pressing on to the scene of action soon blocked up our retreat, and we
found ourselves most unwilling spectators of the conflict. Political
watch-words were loudly shouted by each party; and at last the
students, who appeared to be yielding to superior numbers, called out
for the intervention of the police. The aid was nearer than they
expected; for at the same instant a body of mounted policemen, whose
high helmets rendered them sufficiently conspicuous, were seen trotting
at a sharp pace down Dame-street. On they came with drawn sabres, led
by a well-looking gentlemanlike personage in plain clothes, who dashed
at once into the midst of the fray, issuing his orders, and pointing
out to his followers to secure the ringleaders. Up to this moment I had
been a most patient, and rather amused spectator, of what was doing.
Now, however, my part was to commence, for at the word ‘charge,’ given
in a harsh, deep voice by the sergeant of the party, Marius,
remembering his ancient instinct, pricked up his ears, cocked his tail,
flung up both his hind legs till they nearly broke the Provost’s
windows, and plunged into the thickest of the fray like a devil
incarnate.
“Self-preservation must be a strong instinct, for I well remember how
little pain it cost me to see the people tumbling and rolling before
and beneath me, while I continued to keep my seat. It was only the
moment before and that immense mass were in man to man encounter; now
all the indignation of both parties seemed turned upon me; brick-bats
were loudly implored, and paving stones begged to throw at my devoted
head; the wild huntsman of the German romance never created half the
terror, nor one-tenth of the mischief that I did in less than fifteen
minutes, for the ill-starred beast continued twining and twisting like
a serpent, plunging and kicking the entire time, and occasionally
biting too; all which accomplishments I afterwards learned, however
little in request in civil life, are highly prized in the horse police.
“Every new order of the sergeant was followed in his own fashion by
Marius; who very soon contrived to concentrate in my unhappy person,
all the interest of about fifteen hundred people.
“‘Secure that scoundrel,’ said the magistrate, pointing with his finger
towards me, as I rode over a respectable looking old lady, with a grey
muff. ‘Secure him. Cut him down.’
“‘Ah, devil’s luck to him, if ye do,’ said a newsmonger with a broken
shin.
“On I went, however, and now, as the Fates would have it, instead of
bearing me out of further danger, the confounded brute dashed onwards
to where the magistrate was standing, surrounded by policemen. I
thought I saw him change colour as I came on. I suppose my own looks
were none of the pleasantest, for the worthy man liked them not. Into
the midst of them we plunged, upsetting a corporal, horse and all, and
appearing as if bent upon reaching the alderman.
“‘Cut him down for heaven’s sake. Will nobody shoot him’ said he, with
a voice trembling with fear and anger.
“At these words a wretch lifted up his sabre, and made a cut at my
head. I stooped suddenly, and throwing myself from the saddle, seized
the poor alderman round the neck, and we both came rolling to the
ground together. So completely was he possessed with the notion that I
meant to assassinate him, that while I was endeavouring to extricate
myself from his grasp, he continued to beg his life in the most
heartrending manner.
“My story is now soon told. So effectually did they rescue the alderman
from his danger, that they left me insensible; and I only came to
myself some days after by finding myself in the dock in Green-street,
charged with an indictment of nineteen counts; the only word of truth
is what lay in the preamble, for the ‘devil inciting’ me only, would
ever have made me the owner of that infernal beast, the cause of all my
misfortunes. I was so stupified from my hearing, that I know little of
the course of the proceedings. My friends told me afterwards that I had
a narrow escape from transportation; but for the greatest influence
exerted in my behalf, I should certainly have passed the autumn in the
agreeable recreation of pounding oyster shells or carding wool; and it
certainly must have gone hard with me, for stupified as I was, I
remember the sensation in court, when the alderman made his appearance
with a patch over his eye. The affecting admonition of the little
judge—who, when passing sentence upon me, adverted to the former
respectability of my life, and the rank of my relatives—actually made
the galleries weep.
“Four months in Newgate, and a fine to the king, then rewarded my taste
for horse-exercise; and it’s no wonder if I prefer going on foot.
“As to Miss Eversham, the following short note from the dean concluded
my hopes in that quarter.
“‘Deanery, Wednesday morning.
“‘Sir,—After the very distressing publicity to which your late conduct
has exposed you—the so open avowal of political opinion, at variance
with those (I will say) of every gentleman—and the recorded sentence of
a judge on the verdict of twelve of your countrymen—I should hope that
you will not feel my present admonition necessary to inform you, that
your visits at my house shall cease.
“‘The presents you made my daughter, when under our unfortunate
ignorance of your real character, have been addressed to your
hotel, and I am your most obedient, humble servant,
“‘Oliver Eversham.’
“Here ended my second affair ‘par amours;’ and I freely confess to you
that if I can only obtain a wife in a sea voyage, or a steeple chase, I
am likely to fulfill one great condition in modern advertising—‘as
having no incumbrance, or any objection to travel.’”