ON A VISIT AT KILGOBBIN
Before Kearney had risen from his bed the next morning, Donogan was in his
room, his look elated and his cheek glowing with recent exercise. ‘I have
had a burst of two hours’ sharp walking over the bog,’ cried he; ‘and it
has put me in such spirits as I have not known for many a year. Do you
know, Mr. Kearney, that what with the fantastic effects of the morning
mists, as they lift themselves over these vast wastes--the glorious patches
of blue heather and purple anemone that the sun displays through the
fog--and, better than all, the springiness of a soil that sends a thrill to
the heart, like a throb of youth itself, there is no walking in the world
can compare with a bog at sunrise! There’s a sentiment to open a paper on
nationalities! I came up with the postboy, and took his letters to save him
a couple of miles. Here’s one for you, I think from Atlee; and this is also
to your address, from Dublin; and here’s the last number of the _Pike_,
and you’ll see they have lost no time. There’s a few lines about you. “Our
readers will be grateful to us for the tidings we announce to-day, with
authority--that Richard Kearney, Esq., son of Mathew Kearney, o Kilgobbin
Castle, will contest his native county at the approaching election. It will
be a proud day for Ireland when she shall see her representation in the
names of those who dignify the exalted station they hold in virtue of their
birth and blood, by claims of admitted talent and recognised ability. Mr.
Kearney, junior, has swept the university of its prizes, and the college
gate has long seen his name at the head of her prizemen. He contests the
seat in the National interest. It is needless to say all our sympathies,
and hopes, and best wishes go with him.”’
Dick shook with laughing while the other read out the paragraph in a
high-sounding and pretentious tone.
‘I hope,’ said Kearney at last, ‘that the information as to my college
successes is not vouched for on authority.’
‘Who cares a fig about them? The phrase rounds off a sentence, and nobody
treats it like an affidavit.’
‘But some one may take the trouble to remind the readers that my victories
have been defeats, and that in my last examination but one I got
“cautioned.”’
‘Do you imagine, Mr. Kearney, the House of Commons in any way reflects
college distinction? Do you look for senior-wranglers and double-firsts on
the Treasury bench? and are not the men who carry away distinction the men
of breadth, not depth? Is it not the wide acquaintance with a large field
of knowledge, and the subtle power to know how other men regard these
topics, that make the popular leader of the present day? and remember, it
is talk, and not oratory, is the mode. You must be commonplace, and even
vulgar, practical, dashed with a small morality, so as not to be classed
with the low Radical; and if then you have a bit of high-faluting for the
peroration, you’ll do. The morning papers will call you a young man of
great promise, and the whip will never pass you without a shake-hands.’
‘But there are good speakers.’
‘There is Bright--I don’t think I know another--and he only at times. Take
my word for it, the secret of success with “the collective wisdom” is
reiteration. Tell them the same thing, not once or twice or even ten, but
fifty times, and don’t vary very much even the way you tell it. Go on
repeating your platitudes, and by the time you find you are cursing your
own stupid persistence, you may swear you have made a convert to your
opinions. If you are bent on variety, and must indulge it, ring your
changes on the man who brought these views before them--yourself, but
beyond these never soar. O’Connell, who had a variety at will for his own
countrymen, never tried it in England: he knew better. The chawbacons that
we sneer at are not always in smock-frocks, take my word for it; they many
of them wear wide-brimmed hats and broadcloth, and sit above the gangway.
Ay, sir,’ cried he, warming with the theme, ‘once I can get my countrymen
fully awakened to the fact of who and what are the men who rule them, I’ll
ask for no Catholic Associations, or Repeal Committees, or Nationalist
Clubs--the card-house of British supremacy will tumble of itself; there
will be no conflict, but simply submission.’
‘We’re a long day’s journey from these convictions, I suspect,’ said
Kearney doubtfully.
‘Not so far, perhaps, as you think. Do you remark how little the English
press deal in abuse of us to what was once their custom? They have not, I
admit, come down to civility; but they don’t deride us in the old fashion,
nor tell us, as I once saw, that we are intellectually and physically
stamped with inferiority. If it was true, Mr. Kearney, it was stupid to
tell it to us.’
‘I think we could do better than dwell upon these things.’
‘I deny that: deny it _in toto_. The moment you forget, in your dealings
with the Englishman, the cheap estimate he entertains, not alone of your
brains and your skill, but of your resolution, your persistence, your
strong will, ay, your very integrity, that moment, I say, places him in a
position to treat you as something below him. Bear in mind, however, how he
is striving to regard you, and it’s your own fault if you’re not his equal,
and something more perhaps. There was a man more than the master of them
all, and his name was Edmund Burke; and how did they treat _him_? How
insolently did they behave to O’Connell in the House till he put his heel
on them? Were they generous to Sheil? Were they just to Plunket? No, no.
The element that they decry in our people they know they have not got, and
they’d like to crush the race, when they cannot extinguish the quality.’
Donogan had so excited himself now that he walked up and down the room,
his voice ringing with emotion, and his arms wildly tossing in all the
extravagance of passion. ‘This is from Joe Atlee,’ said Kearney, as he tore
open the envelope:--
‘“DEAR DICK,--I cannot account for the madness that seems to have seized
you, except that Dan Donogan, the most rabid dog I know, has bitten you. If
so, for Heaven’s sake have the piece cut out at once, and use the strongest
cautery of common sense, if you know of any one who has a little to spare.
I only remembered yesterday that I ought to have told you I had sheltered
Dan in our rooms, but I can already detect that you have made his
acquaintance. He is not a bad fellow. He is sincere in his opinions, and
incorruptible, if that be the name for a man who, if bought to-morrow,
would not be worth sixpence to his owner.
‘“Though I resigned all respect for my own good sense in telling it, I was
obliged to let H. E. know the contents of your despatch, and then, as I saw
he had never heard of Kilgobbin, or the great Kearney family, I told
more lies of your estated property, your county station, your influence
generally, and your abilities individually, than the fee-simple of your
property, converted into masses, will see me safe through purgatory; and I
have consequently baited the trap that has caught myself; for, persuaded
by my eloquent advocacy of you all, H. E. has written to Walpole to make
certain inquiries concerning you, which, if satisfactory, he, Walpole, will
put himself in communication with you, as to the extent and the mode to
which the Government will support you. I think I can see Dan Donogan’s fine
hand in that part of your note which foreshadows a threat, and hints that
the Walpole story would, if published abroad, do enormous damage to the
Ministry. This, let me assure you, is a fatal error, and a blunder which
could only be committed by an outsider in political life. The days are long
past since a scandal could smash an administration; and we are so
strong now that arson or forgery could not hurt, and I don’t think that
infanticide would affect us.
‘“If you are really bent on this wild exploit, you should see Walpole,
and confer with him. You don’t talk well, but you write worse, so avoid
correspondence, and do all your indiscretions verbally. Be angry if you
like with my candour, but follow my counsel.
‘“See him, and show him, if you are able, that, all questions of
nationality apart, he may count upon your vote; that there are certain
impracticable and impossible conceits in politics--like repeal, subdivision
of land, restoration of the confiscated estates, and such like--on which
Irishmen insist on being free to talk balderdash, and air their patriotism;
but that, rightfully considered, they are as harmless and mean just as
little as a discussion on the Digamma, or a debate on perpetual motion. The
stupid Tories could never be brought to see this. Like genuine dolts, they
would have an army of supporters, one-minded with them in everything. We
know better, and hence we buy the Radical vote by a little coquetting
with communism, and the model working-man and the rebel by an occasional
gaol-delivery, and the Papist by a sop to the Holy Father. Bear in mind,
Dick--and it is the grand secret of political life--it takes all sort of
people to make a ‘party.’ When you have thoroughly digested this aphorism,
you are fit to start in the world.
‘“If you were not so full of what I am sure you would call your ‘legitimate
ambitions,’ I’d like to tell you the glorious life we lead in this place.
Disraeli talks of ‘the well-sustained splendour of their stately lives,’
and it is just the phrase for an existence in which all the appliances to
ease and enjoyment are supplied by a sort of magic, that never shows its
machinery, nor lets you hear the sound of its working. The saddle-horses
know when I want to ride by the same instinct that makes the butler give
me the exact wine I wish at my dinner. And so on throughout the day, ‘the
sustained splendour’ being an ever-present luxuriousness that I drink in
with a thirst that knows no slaking.
‘“I have made a hit with H.E., and from copying some rather muddle-headed
despatches, I am now promoted to writing short skeleton sermons on
politics, which, duly filled out and fattened with official nutriment,
will one day astonish the Irish Office, and make one of the Nestors of
bureaucracy exclaim, ‘See how Danesbury has got up the Irish question.’
‘“I have a charming collaborateur, my lord’s niece, who was acting as his
private secretary up to the time of my arrival, and whose explanation of a
variety of things I found to be so essential that, from being at first in
the continual necessity of seeking her out, I have now arrived at a point
at which we write in the same room, and pass our mornings in the library
till luncheon. She is stunningly handsome, as tall as the Greek cousin, and
with a stately grace of manner and a cold dignity of demeanour I’d give my
heart’s blood to subdue to a mood of womanly tenderness and dependence. Up
to this, my position is that of a very humble courtier in the presence of a
queen, and she takes care that by no momentary forgetfulness shall I lose
sight of the ‘situation.’
‘“She is engaged, they say, to be married to Walpole; but as I have not
heard that he is heir-apparent, or has even the reversion to the crown of
Spain, I cannot perceive what the contract means.
‘“I rode out with her to-day by special invitation, or permission--which
was it?--and in the few words that passed between us, she asked me if I had
long known Mr. Walpole, and put her horse into a canter without waiting for
my answer.
‘“With H. E. I can talk away freely, and without constraint. I am never
very sure that he does not know the things he questions me on better than
myself--a practice some of his order rather cultivate; but, on the whole,
our intercourse is easy. I know he is not a little puzzled about me, and I
intend that he should remain so.
‘“When you have seen and spoken with Walpole, write me what has taken
place between you; and though I am fully convinced that what you intend is
unmitigated folly, I see so many difficulties in the way, such obstacles,
and such almost impossibilities to be overcome, that I think Fate will
be more merciful to you than your ambitions, and spare you, by an early
defeat, from a crushing disappointment.
‘“Had you ambitioned to be a governor of a colony, a bishop, or a Queen’s
messenger--they are the only irresponsible people I can think of--I
might have helped you; but this conceit to be a Parliament man is such
irredeemable folly, one is powerless to deal with it.
‘“At all events, your time is not worth much, nor is your public character
of a very grave importance. Give them both, then, freely to the effort, but
do not let it cost you money, nor let Donogan persuade you that you are one
of those men who can make patriotism self-supporting.
‘“H. E. hints at a very confidential mission on which he desires to employ
me; and though I should leave this place now with much regret, and a more
tender sorrow than I could teach you to comprehend, I shall hold myself
at his orders for Japan if he wants me. Meanwhile, write to me what
takes place with Walpole, and put your faith firmly in the good-will and
efficiency of yours truly,
‘“JOE ATLEE.
‘“If you think of taking Donogan down with you to Kilgobbin, I ought to
tell you that it would be a mistake. Women invariably dislike him, and he
would do you no credit.’”
Dick Kearney, who had begun to read this letter aloud, saw himself
constrained to continue, and went on boldly, without stop or hesitation, to
the last word.
‘I am very grateful to you, Mr. Kearney, for this mark of trustfulness, and
I’m not in the least sore about all Joe has said of me.’
‘He is not over complimentary to myself,’ said Kearney, and the irritation
he felt was not to be concealed.
‘There’s one passage in his letter,’ said the other thoughtfully, ‘well
worth all the stress he lays on it. He tells you never to forget it “takes
all sorts of men to make a party.” Nothing can more painfully prove the
fact than that we need Joe Atlee amongst ourselves! And it is true, Mr.
Kearney,’ said he sternly, ‘treason must now, to have any chance at all, be
many-handed. We want not only all sorts of men, but in all sorts of places;
and at tables where rebel opinions dared not be boldly announced and
defended, we want people who can coquet with felony, and get men to talk
over treason with little if any ceremony. Joe can do this--he can write,
and, what is better, sing you a Fenian ballad, and if he sees he has made a
mistake, he can quiz himself and his song as cavalierly as he has sung it!
And now, on my solemn oath I say it, I don’t know that anything worse has
befallen us than the fact that there are such men as Joe Atlee amongst us,
and that we need them--ay, sir, we need them!’
‘This is brief enough, at any rate,’ said Kearney, as he broke open the
second letter:--
‘“DUBLIN CASTLE, _Wednesday Evening_.
‘“DEAR SIR,--Would you do me the great favour to call on me here at your
earliest convenient moment? I am still an invalid, and confined to a sofa,
or would ask for permission to meet you at your chambers.--Believe me,
yours faithfully,
CECIL WALPOLE.”’
‘That cannot be delayed, I suppose?’ said Kearney, in the tone of a
question.
‘Certainly not.’
‘I’ll go up by the night-mail. You’ll remain where you are, and where I
hope you feel you are with a welcome.’
‘I feel it, sir--I feel it more than I can say.’ And his face was blood-red
as he spoke.
‘There are scores of things you can do while I am away. You’ll have to
study the county in all its baronies and subdivisions. There, my sister can
help you; and you’ll have to learn the names and places of our great county
swells, and mark such as may be likely to assist us. You’ll have to stroll
about in our own neighbourhood, and learn what the people near home say of
the intention, and pick up what you can of public opinion in our towns of
Moate and Kilbeggan.’
‘I have bethought me of all that---’ He paused here and seemed to hesitate
if he should say more; and after an effort, he went on: ‘You’ll not take
amiss what I’m going to say, Mr. Kearney. You’ll make full allowance for a
man placed as I am; but I want, before you go, to learn from you in what
way, or as what, you have presented me to your family? Am I a poor sizar of
Trinity, whose hard struggle with poverty has caught your sympathy? Am I a
chance acquaintance, whose only claim on you is being known to Joe Atlee?
I’m sure I need not ask you, have you called me by my real name and given
me my real character?’
Kearney flushed up to the eyes, and laying his hand on the other’s
shoulder, said, ‘This is exactly what I have done. I have told my sister
that you are the noted Daniel Donogan, United Irishman and rebel.’
‘But only to your sister?’
‘To none other.’
‘_She_’ll not betray me, I know that.’
‘You are right there, Donogan. Here’s how it happened, for it was not
intended.’ And now he related how the name had escaped him.
‘So that the cousin knows nothing?’
‘Nothing whatever. My sister Kate is not one to make rash confidences, and
you may rely on it she has not told her.’
‘I hope and trust that this mistake will serve you for a lesson, Mr.
Kearney, and show you that to keep a secret, it is not enough to have an
honest intention, but a man must have a watch over his thoughts and a
padlock on his tongue. And now to something of more importance. In your
meeting with Walpole, mind one thing: no modesty, no humility; make your
demands boldly, and declare that your price is well worth the paying;
let him feel that, as he must make a choice between the priests and the
nationalists, we are the easier of the two to deal with: first of all, we
don’t press for prompt payment; and, secondly, we’ll not shock Exeter Hall!
Show him that strongly, and tell him that there are clever fellows amongst
us who’ll not compromise him or his party, and will never desert him on a
close division. Oh dear me, how I wish I was going in your place.’
‘So do I, with all my heart; but there’s ten striking, and we shall be late
for breakfast.’