in some degree my Shakspearian mania, to the still higher exaltation of
my English stilts, and the deeper debasement of all "rough Irish
kernes." At Shrewsbury we parted with a kind old lady, who had shown me
some good-natured attentions, and I was left with only an elderly
gentleman, bound also for Dublin, who told me we must start at three
o'clock the following morning for Holyhead. I was dreadfully dejected,
and told him I hoped he would not think the worse of me for being so
utterly alone, and that he would excuse my retiring to my own apartment
the instant we had dined. He took pencil and paper, and with a glow of
benevolent feeling expressed his anxious desire to take the same care of
me that he would of his own daughter, and to look on me as his especial
charge, until he should give me into the hands of my lawful protector. I
thanked him with true English reserve, and a coldness that seemed rather
to grate on his warm feelings; and having owned that his seeing my
Newfoundland dog well fed and lodged would be a great obligation, I
withdrew to fret alone over my exile to this foreign land. You may call
this an exaggeration, but it is no such thing. I delight in dwelling
upon my reluctant approach to the land that I was to love so fondly.
Next day my miseries were alleviated by the enchanting beauties of the
Welsh country through which we passed; and my regard for Mr. D----
greatly increased by the compassionate care he took of a poor sickly
woman and her ragged infant, whom he descried on the top of the coach,
and first threw his large cloak to them, then, with my cordial assent,
took them inside, and watched them most kindly until he fell asleep. I
peeped into his kind, benevolent face, and inwardly confessed there
might be some nice people in Ireland.
At the inn where we dined, I made another acquaintance. A younger, but
middle-aged man, whose vivacity, combined with Welch mutton and ale,
quite raised my spirits. Hearing from Mr. D---- with what enthusiasm I
had admired the scenery of Llangollen, he volunteered to hand me in at
the coach window, a note of every remarkable place we should approach
during the rest of the journey; adding, "I know the road pretty well,
having traversed it at least twice a year for sixteen years, passing to
and from my Irish home." He was a legal man, a finished gentleman, and
another sad drawback on my perverse prejudices. Mr. F---- proved an
excellent descriptive guide, punctually reaching to me from the roof of
the coach his little memoranda, in time for me to take a survey of the
object concerned; and also most assiduously aiding in the care of my
luggage and dog when we were all put into the ferry-boat.
There was then no bridge over the Menai, and I being in total ignorance
of the route was not a little dismayed at the embarkation, forgetting
that Holyhead was in Anglesea, and that Anglesea was an island. At
last, when the boat pushed off, the opposite shore being hidden under
the mist of deepening twilight, I addressed the ferryman in a tone of
remonstrance that infinitely diverted the whole party, "Surely you are
not going to take me over in this way to Ireland?"
"No, no," said Mr. F----, "you shall have a good night's rest, and a
better sea-boat, before we start for the dear green isle."
Steamers were not then upon the packet station, and the wind being
unfavorable, we had a passage of seventeen hours, not landing until two
in the morning of Easter Sunday. Nothing could exceed my discomfort, as
you may suppose, when I tell you that after paying my bill at Holyhead,
I, in a fit of abstraction, deposited it very safely in my purse, and in
its stead threw away my last bank-note. The mistake was not suspected
until in mid-voyage I examined the state of my finances, and found the
sum total to amount to one shilling. This was an awful discovery; my
passage was paid, but how to reach Dublin was a mystery, and such was
the untamed pride of my character that I would sooner have walked there
than confessed to the fact, which might have been doubted, and laid
myself under the obligation of a loan which I was sure of repaying in a
few hours, even to good old Mr. D----. When I stepped from the deck of
the packet upon the plank that rested against the pier of Howth I had
not one single halfpenny in my pocket, and I experienced, without the
slightest emotion, one of the most hairbreadth escapes of my life.
The water was very low; the plank of course sloped greatly, and as soon
as I set my foot on it began to slide down. In another second I should
have been plunged between the vessel's side and the stone pier, without
any human possibility of rescue; and already I had lost my balance, when
a sailor, springing on the bulwarks, caught me round the knees, and at
the same instant Mr. F----, throwing himself on the ground, seized and
steadied the plant, until I recovered my footing and ran up. I shudder
to recall the hardened indifference of my own spirit, while the kind,
warm-hearted Irishmen were agitated with strong emotion, and all around
me thanking God for my escape. Each of my friends thought I had landed
under the care of the other; while one had my dog and the other my
portmanteau. I received their fervent "cead-mille-failthe" with cold
politeness, and trod with feelings of disgust on the dear little green
shamrocks that I now prize so fondly.
We went to the hotel, and Mr. D---- proposed my retiring to a chamber
until the coach started; but my empty purse would not allow of that, so
I said I preferred sitting where I was. Refreshments were ordered; but
though in a state of ravenous hunger, I steadily refused to touch them,
for I would not have allowed another person to pay for me, and was
resolved to conceal my loss as long as I could. I was excused, on the
presumption of a qualmishness resulting from the tossing of the ship;
and most melancholy, most forlorn were the feelings with which I watched
through the large window the fading moonbeams and the dawning day. To my
unspeakable joy, the two gentlemen proposed taking a postchaise with me
to Dublin, the expense being no more and the comfort much greater than
going by coach; and having requested Mr. F---- to keep an exact account
of my share in the charges, I took my seat beside them with a far
lighter heart; my dog being on the footboard in front of the carriage.
Away we drove, our horses being young, fresh, and in high condition. It
was a glorious morning, and vainly did I strive not to admire the
scenery, as one after another of the beautiful villas that adorn the
Howth road gleamed out in the snowy whiteness that characterizes the
houses there, generally embosomed in trees and surrounded by gardens on
the rising grounds. We were descending the hilly road very rapidly, when
by some means the horses took fright, and broke into a full-gallop,
crossing and re-crossing the road in a fearful manner. The driver was
thrown on the footboard, poor Tajo hung by his chain against the horses'
legs, and our situation was most critical. I had suffered from one upset
in America, and resolved not to encounter another; so quietly gathering
my long riding-habit about me with one hand, and putting the other out
at the window, I opened the door, and with one active spring flung
myself out. You know the extreme peril, the almost certain destruction
of such a leap from a carriage at full speed; I did not, or certainly I
would not have taken it. However, at that very instant of time, the
horses made a dead stop, and the chaise remained stationary only a few
paces in advance of me.
Was not the hand of God here? Oh, surely it was, in the most marked and
wonderful manner. No cause could be assigned for the arrest of the
animals; the driver had lost the reins, and no one was near. I had
fallen flat on the road-side, just grazing my gloves with the gravel and
getting a good mouthful of the soil, with which my face was brought into
involuntary contact. In a moment I sprung to my feet, and blowing it
out, exclaimed with a laugh, "Oh well, I suppose I am to love this
country after all, for I have kissed it in spite of me." I then ran to
help my dog out of his disagreeable state of suspension, and returned to
my friends, who were frightened and angry too, and who refused to let me
into the chaise unless I positively promised not to jump out any more.
To shorten the tale, I reached the Hibernian hotel, where my husband
was, seized some money, and paid my expenses without any one having
discovered that I was a complete bankrupt up to that minute.
I have been very prolix here; for I cannot overlook a single incident
connected with this eventful journey. Never did any one less anticipate
a blessing or look for happiness than I in visiting Ireland. I cannot
enter into more particulars, because it would involve the names of
friends who might not wish to figure in print; but if these pages ever
meet the eyes of any who gave me the first day's welcome in Dublin, let
them be assured that the remembrance of their tender kindness, the
glowing warmth of their open hospitality, and their solicitude to make
the poor stranger happy among them, broke through the ice of a heart
that had frozen itself up in most unnatural reserve, and gave life to
the first pulse that played within it of the love that soon pervaded its
every vein--the love of dear, generous Ireland.
My first journey into the interior was to the King's county, where I
passed some weeks in a house most curiously situated, with an open
prospect of ten miles pure bog in front of it. Being newly built,
nothing had yet had time to grow; but its owner, one of the most
delightful old gentlemen I ever met with, had spared no cost to render
it commodious and handsome. He was a fine specimen of the hospitable
Irish gentleman, and took great pleasure in bringing me acquainted with
the customs of a people and the features of a place so new to me. Indeed
it was my first introduction to what was really Irish, for Dublin is too
much of a capital to afford many specimens of distinct nationality. On
that great festival of the peasantry, St. John's eve, Mr. C---- resolved
on giving his tenants and neighbors a treat that should also enlighten
me on one of their most singular relics of paganism. It is the custom at
sunset on that evening to kindle numerous immense fires throughout the
country, built like our bonfires to a great height, the pile being
composed of turf, bog-wood, and such other combustibles as they can
gather. The turf yields a steady, substantial body of fire, the bog-wood
a most brilliant flame; and the effect of these great beacons blazing on
every hill, sending up volumes of smoke from every point of the horizon,
is very remarkable. Ours was a magnificent one, being provided by the
landlord as a compliment to his people, and was built on the lawn, as
close beside the house as safety would admit. Early in the evening the
peasants began to assemble, all habited in their best array, glowing
with health, every countenance full of that sparkling animation and
excess of enjoyment that characterizes the enthusiastic people of the
land. I had never seen anything resembling it, and was exceedingly
delighted with their handsome, intelligent, merry faces; the bold
bearing of the men, and the playful but really modest deportment of the
maidens; the vivacity of the aged people, and the wild glee of the
children. The fire being kindled, a splendid blaze shot up, and for a
while they stood contemplating it, with faces strangely disfigured by
the peculiar light first emitted when bog-wood is thrown on; after a
short pause, the ground was cleared in front of an old blind piper, the
very beau ideal of energy, drollery, and shrewdness, who, seated on a
low chair, with a well-replenished jug within his reach, screwed his
pipes to the liveliest tunes, and the endless jig began.
An Irish jig is interminable, so long as the party holds together; for
when one of the dancers becomes fatigued, a fresh individual is ready to
step into the vacated place quick as thought, so that the other does not
pause, until in like manner obliged to give place to a successor. They
continue footing it, and setting to one another, occasionally moving in
a figure, and changing places with extraordinary rapidity, spirit, and
grace. Few indeed among even the very lowest of the most impoverished
class have grown into youth without obtaining some lessons in dancing
from the travelling dancing-masters of their district; and certainly, in
the way they use it, many would be disposed to grant a dispensation to
the young peasant, which they would withhold from the young peer. It is,
however, sadly abused among them, to Sabbath-breakings, revellings, and
the most immoral scenes, where they are congregated and kept together
under its influence; and the same scene enacted a year afterwards would
have awoke in my mind very different feelings from those with which I
regarded this first spectacle of Irish hilarity, when I could hardly be
restrained by the laughing remonstrances of "the quality" from throwing
myself into the midst of the joyous group and dancing with them.
But something was to follow that puzzled me not a little; when the fire
had burned for some hours and got low, an indispensable part of the
ceremony commenced. Every one present of the peasantry passed through
it, and several children were thrown across the sparkling embers; while
a wooden frame of some eight feet long, with a horse's head fixed to one
end and a large white sheet thrown over it, concealing the wood and the
man on whose head it was carried, made its appearance. This was greeted
with load shouts as the "white horse;" and having been safely carried by
the skill of its bearer several times through the fire with a bold leap,
it pursued the people, who ran screaming and laughing in every
direction. I asked what the horse was meant for, and was told it
represented all cattle. Here was the old pagan worship of Baal, if not
of Moloch too, carried on openly and universally in the heart of a
nominally Christian country, and by millions professing the Christian
name. I was confounded, for I did not then know that Popery is only a
crafty adaptation of pagan idolatries to its own scheme; and while I
looked upon the now wildly excited people with their children, and in a
figure all their cattle, passing again and again through the fire, I
almost questioned in my own mind the lawfulness of the spectacle,
considered in the light that the Bible must, even to the natural heart,
exhibit it in to those who confess the true God. There was no one to
whom I could breathe such thoughts, and they soon faded from my mind:
not so the impression made on it by this fair specimen of a population
whom I had long classed with the savage inhabitants of barbarous lands,
picturing them to myself as dark, ferocious, discontented, and
malignant. That such was the reverse of their natural character I now
began to feel convinced; and from that evening my heart gradually warmed
towards a race whom I found to be frank, warm, and affectionate, beyond
any I had ever met with.
My interest in them, however, was soon to be placed on another and a
firmer basis. I took up my permanent abode in a neighboring county; and
within six months after that celebration of St. John's eve, I
experienced the mighty power of God in a way truly marvellous. Great and
marvellous are _all_ his works, in creating, in sustaining, in
governing this world of wonderful creatures; but Oh, how surpassingly
marvellous and great in redeeming lost sinners, in taking away the heart
of stone and giving a heart of flesh, and making his people willing in
the day of his power! I have carefully abstained from any particulars
respecting myself that could either cast a reproach on the dead or give
pain to the living; I shall do so still, and merely remark, that as far
as this world was concerned, my lot had no happiness mingled in it, and
that my only solace under many grievous trials consisted in two things:
one was a careful concealment of whatever might subject my proud spirit
to the mortification of being pitied when I desired rather to be envied;
and the other a confident assurance, that in suffering afflictions
silently, unresistingly, and uncomplainingly, I was making God my debtor
to a large amount. What desperate wickedness of a deceived and deceitful
heart was this! The very thing in which I so arrogantly vaunted myself
before God was the direct result of personal pride, in itself a great
sin; and thus I truly gloried in my shame. I never looked beyond the rod
to Him who had appointed it; but satisfying myself that I had not
merited from man any severity, my demerits at the hand of the Most High
were wholly put out of the calculation. Thus, of course, every stroke
drove me further from the only Rock of refuge, and deeper into the
fastness of my own vain conceits. Added to this, I was wholly shut out
from all the ordinary means by which the Lord usually calls sinners to
himself. There was no gospel ministry then within my reach; nor could I,
if it were provided, have profited by it, owing to my infirmity,
(deafness.) Into Christian society I had never entered, nor had the
least glimmer of spiritual light shone into my mind. My religion was
that of the Pharisee, and my addresses to God included, like his, an
acknowledgment that it was by divine favor I was so much better than my
neighbors. Reality had so far chased away romance, that my old favorite
authors had little power to charm me; and the hollowness of my affected
gayety and ease made society a very sickening thing. * * *
At the time I am now to speak of, I was living in perfect seclusion, and
uninterrupted solitude. Captain ---- was always in Dublin, and my chief
occupation was in hunting out, and transcribing and arranging matter for
the professional gentlemen conducting the lawsuit, from a mass of
confused family papers and documents. Our property consisted of a large
number of poor cabins with their adjoining land, forming a complete
street on the outskirts of the town, which was greatly in arrear to the
head landlords, and a periodical "distress" took place. On these
occasions a keeper was set over the property, some legal papers were
served, and the household goods--consisting of iron kettles, wooden
stools, broken tables, a ragged blanket or two, and the little store of
potatoes, the sole support of the wretched inhabitants--were brought
out, piled in a long row down the street, and "canted," that is, put up
to sale, for the payment of perhaps one or two per cent. of the arrears.
This horrified me beyond measure: I was ashamed to be seen among the
people who were called our tenants, though this proceeding did not
emanate from their immediate landlord; and every thing combined to
render the seclusion of my own garden more congenial to me than any
wider range.
It was then that I came to the resolution of being a perfect devotee in
religion: I thought myself marvellously good; but something of monastic
mania seized me. I determined to emulate the recluses of whom I had
often read; to become a sort of Protestant nun; and to fancy my garden,
with its high stone-walls and little thicket of apple-trees, a convent
enclosure. I also settled it with myself to pray three or four times
every day, instead of twice; and with great alacrity entered upon this
new routine of devotion.
Here God met and arrested me. When I kneeled down to pray, the strangest
alarms took hold of my mind. He to whom I had been accustomed to prate
with flippant volubility in a set form of heartless words, seemed to my
startled mind so exceedingly terrible in unapproachable majesty, and so
very angry with me in particular, that I became paralyzed with fear. I
strove against this with characteristic pertinacity; I called to mind
all the commonplace assurances respecting the sufficiency of a good
intention, and magnified alike my doings and my sufferings. I persuaded
myself it was only a holy awe, the effect of distinguished piety and
rare humility, and that I was really an object of the divine complacency
in no ordinary degree. Again I essayed to pray, but in vain; I dared
not. Then I attributed it to a nervous state of feeling that would wear
away by a little abstraction from the subject; but this would not do. To
leave off praying was impossible, yet to pray seemed equally so. I well
remember that the character in which I chiefly viewed the Lord God was
that of an Avenger, going forth to smite the first-born of Egypt; and I
somehow identified myself with the condemned number. Often, after
kneeling a long time, I have laid my face upon my arms, and wept most
bitterly, because I could not, dared not pray.
It was not in my nature to be driven back easily from any path I had
entered on; and here the Lord wrought on me to persevere resolutely. I
began to examine myself, in order to discover _why_ I was afraid;
and taking as my rule the ten commandments, I found myself sadly
deficient on some points. The tenth affected me as it never had done
before. "I had not known lust," because I had not understood the law
when it said, "Thou shalt not covet." A casual glance at the declaration
of St. James, "Whosoever shall keep the whole law, yet offend in one
point, he is guilty of all," alarmed me exceedingly; and on a sudden it
occurred to me that not only the ten commandments, but all the precepts
of the New Testament, were binding on a Christian; and I trembled more
than ever.
What was to be done? To reform myself, certainly, and become obedient to
the whole law. Accordingly I went to work, transcribed all the commands
that I felt myself most in the habit of neglecting, and pinned up a
dozen or two texts around my room. It required no small effort to enter
this apartment and walk round it, reading my mementos. That active
schoolmaster, the law, had got me fairly under his rod, and dreadful
were the writhings of the convicted culprit, I soon, however, took down
my texts, fearing lest some one else might see them, and not knowing
they were for myself, be exasperated. I then made a little hook, wrote
down a list of offences, and commenced making a dot over against each,
whenever I detected myself in the commission of one. I had become very
watchful over my thoughts, and was honest in recording all evil; so my
book became a mass of black dots; and the reflection that occurred to me
of omissions being sins too, completed the panic of my mind. I flung
away my book into the fire, and myself into an abyss of gloomy despair.
How long this miserable state of mind lasted, I do not exactly remember;
I think about two weeks. I could not pray. I dared not read the Bible,
it bore so very hard upon me. Outwardly, I was calm and even cheerful,
but within reigned the very blackness of darkness. Death, with which I
had so often sported, appeared in my eyes so terrible, that the
slightest feeling of illness filled my soul with dismay. I saw no way of
escape: I had God's perfect law before my eyes, and a full conviction of
my own past sinfulness and present helplessness, leaving me wholly
without hope. Hitherto I had never known a day's illness for years; one
of God's rich mercies to me consisted in uninterrupted health, and a
wonderful freedom from all nervous affections. I knew almost as little
of the sensation of a headache as I did of that of tight-lacing; and now
a violent cold, with sore throat, aggravated into fever by the state of
my mind, completely prostrated me. I laid myself down on the sofa one
morning and waited to see how my earthly miseries would terminate; too
well knowing what must follow the close of a sinner's life.
I had not lain long, when a neighbor hearing I was ill, sent me some
books just received from Dublin, as a loan, hoping I might find some
amusement in them. Listlessly, wretchedly, mechanically, I opened one;
it was the memoir of a departed son, written by his father. I read a
page describing the approach of death, and was arrested by the youth's
expressions of self-condemnation, his humble acknowledgment of having
deserved at the Lord's hand nothing but eternal death. "Ah, poor
fellow," said I, "he was like me. How dreadful his end must have been; I
will see what he said at last, when on the very brink of the bottomless
pit." I resumed the book, and found him in continuation glorifying God
that though _he_ was so guilty and so vile, there was ONE able to
save to the uttermost, who had borne his sins, satisfied divine justice
for him, opened the gates of heaven, and now waited to receive his
ransomed soul.