cross-examination ranks next to his skill in planning an alibi. There
is, in the former, a versatility of talent that keeps him always ready;
a happiness of retort, generally disastrous to the wit of the most
established cross-examiner; an apparent simplicity, which is quite as
impenetrable as the lawyer's assurance; a _vis comica_, which puts the
court in tears; and an originality of sorrow, that often convulses it
with laughter. His resources, when he is pressed, are inexhaustible; and
the address, with which he contrives to gain time, that he may suit his
reply to the object of his evidence, is beyond all praise. And yet his
appearance when he mounts the table is anything but prepossessing; a
sheepish look, and a loose-jointed frame of body, wrapped in a frieze
great-coat, do not promise much. Nay, there is often a rueful blank
expression in his visage, which might lead a stranger to anticipate
nothing but blunders and dulness. This, however, is hypocrisy of the
first water. Just observe the tact with which he places his caubeen upon
the table, his kippeen across it, and the experienced air with which he
pulls up the waistbands of his breeches, absolutely girding his loins
for battle. 'Tis true his blue eye has at present nothing remarkable in
it, except a drop or to of the native; but that is not remarkable.
[Illustration: PAGE 919-- A rueful blank expression in his visage]
When the direct examination has been concluded, nothing can be finer
than the simplicity with which he turns round to the lawyer who is to
cross-examine him. Yet, as if conscious that firmness and caution are
his main guards, he again pulls up his waistbands with a more vigorous
hitch, looks shyly into the very eyes of his opponent, and awaits the
first blow.
The question at length comes; and Paddy, after having raised the collar
of his big coat on his shoulder, and twisted up the shoulder along
with it, directly puts the query back to the lawyer, without altering a
syllable of it, for the purpose of ascertaining more accurately whether
that is the precise question that has been put to him; for Paddy is
conscientious. Then is the science displayed on both sides. The one,
a veteran, trained in all the technicalities of legal puzzles,
irony, blarney, sarcasm, impudence, stock jokes, quirks, rigmarolery,
brow-beating, ridicule, and subtlety; the other a poor peasant, relying
only upon the justice of a good cause and the gifts of nature; without
either experience, or learning, and with nothing but his native modesty
to meet the forensic effrontery of his antagonist.
Our readers will perceive that the odds are a thousand to one against
Paddy; yet, when he replies to a hackneyed genius at cross-examination,
how does it happen that he uniformly elicits those roars of laughter
which rise in the court, and convulse it from the judge to the crier? In
this laugh, which is usually at the expense of the cross-examiner, Paddy
himself always joins, so that the counsel has the double satisfaction of
being made not only the jest of the judge and his brother lawyers, but
of the ragged witness whom he attempted to make ridiculous.
It is not impossible that this merry mode of dispensing justice may
somewhat encourage Paddy in that independence of mind which relishes
not the idea of being altogether bound by oaths that are too often
administered with a jocular spirit. To most of the Irish in general an
oath is a solemn, to some, an awful thing. Of this wholesome reverence
for its sanction, two or three testimonies given in a court of justice
usually cured them. The indifferent, business-like manner in which the
oaths are put, the sing-song tone of voice, the rapid utterance of the
words, give to this solemn act an appearance of excellent burlesque,
which ultimately renders the whole proceedings remarkable for the
absence of truth and reality; but, at the same time, gives them
unquestionable merit as a dramatic representation, abounding with
fiction, well related and ably acted.
Thumb-kissing is another feature in Paddy's adroitness too important to
be passed over in silence. Here his tact shines out again! It would
be impossible for him, in many cases, to meet the perplexities of a
cross-examination so cleverly as he does, if he did not believe that he
had, by kissing his thumb instead of the book, actually taken no oath,
and consequently given to himself a wider range of action. We must
admit, however, that this very circumstance involves him in difficulties
which are sometimes peculiarly embarrassing. Taking everything into
consideration, the prospect of freedom for his sixth cousin, the
consciousness of having kissed his thumb, or the consoling reflection
that he swore only on a Law Bible, it must be granted that the
opportunities presented by a cross-examination are well calculated to
display his wit, humor, and fertility of invention. He is accordingly
great in it; but still we maintain that his execution of an alibi is
his ablest performance, comprising, as it does, both the conception and
construction of the work.
Both the oaths and imprecations of the Irish display, like those who use
them, indications of great cruelty and great humor. Many of the
former exhibit that ingenuity which comes out when Paddy is on his
cross-examination in a court of justice. Every people, it is true,
have resorted to the habit of mutilating or changing in their oaths
the letters which form the Creator's name; but we question if any have
surpassed the Irish in the cleverness with which they accomplish it.
Mock oaths are habitual to Irishmen in ordinary conversation; but the
use of any or all of them is not considered to constitute an oath: on
the contrary, they are in the mouths of many who would not, except upon
a very solemn occasion indeed, swear by the name of the Deity in its
proper form.
The ingenuity of their mock oaths is sufficient to occasion much
perplexity to any one disposed to consider it in connection with the
character and moral feelings of the people. Whether to note it as a
reluctance on their part to incur the guilt of an oath, or as a proof of
habitual tact in evading it by artifice, is manifestly a difficulty hard
to be overcome. We are decidedly inclined to the former; for although
there is much laxity of principle among Irishmen, naturally to
be expected from men whose moral state has been neglected by the
legislature, and deteriorated by political and religious asperity,
acting upon quick passions and badly regulated minds--yet we know
that they possess, after all, a strong, but vague undirected sense of
devotional feeling and reverence, which are associated with great crimes
and awfully dark shades of character. This explains one chief cause of
the sympathy which is felt in Ireland for criminals from whom the law
exacts the fatal penalty of death; and it also accounts, independently
of the existence of any illegal association, for the terrible
retribution inflicted upon those who come forward to prosecute them.
It is not in Ireland with criminals as in other countries, where the
character of a murderer or incendiary is notoriously bad, as resulting
from a life of gradual profligacy and villany. Far from it. In Ireland
you will find those crimes perpetrated by men who are good fathers, good
husbands, good sons, and good neighbors--by men who would share
their last morsel or their last shilling with a fellow-creature in
distress--who would generously lose their lives for a man who had
obliged them, provided he had not incurred their enmity--and who would
protect a defenseless stranger as far as lay in their power. There are
some mock oaths among Irishmen which must have had their origin amongst
those whose habits of thought were much more elevated than could be
supposed to characterize the lower orders. “By the powers of death” is
never now used as we have written it; but the ludicrous travestie of it,
“by the powdhors o' delf,” is quite common. Of this and other mock oaths
it may be right to observe, that those who swear by them are in general
ignorant of their proper origin. There are some, however, of this
description whose original form is well known. One of these Paddy
displays considerable ingenuity in using. “By the cross” can scarcely be
classed under the mock oaths, but the manner in which it is pressed into
asseverations is amusing. When Paddy is affirming a truth he swears
“by the crass” simply, and this with him is an oath of considerable
obligation. He generally, in order to render it more impressive,
accompanies it with suitable action, that is, he places the forefinger
of each hand across, that he may assail you through two senses instead
of one. On the contrary, when he intends to hoax you by asserting what
is not true, he ingeniously multiplies the oath, and swears “by the five
crashes,” that is by his own five fingers, placing at the same time his
four fingers and his thumbs across each other in a most impressive and
vehement manner. Don't believe him then--the knave is lying as fast as
possible, and with no remorse. “By the crass o' Christ” is an oath of
much solemnity, and seldom used in a falsehood. Paddy also often places
two bits of straws across, and sometimes two sticks, upon which he
swears with an appearance of great heat and sincerity--_sed caveto!_
Irishmen generally consider iron as a sacred metal. In the interior of
the country, the thieves (but few in number) are frequently averse to
stealing it. Why it possesses this hold upon their affections it is
difficult to say, but it is certain that they rank it among their sacred
things, consider that to find it is lucky, and nail it over their doors
when found in the convenient shape of a horse-shoe. It is also used as
a medium of asserting truth. We believe, however, that the sanction it
imposes is not very strong. “By this blessed iron!”--“by this blessed
an' holy iron!” are oaths of an inferior grade; but if the circumstance
on which they are founded be a matter of indifference, they seldom
depart from truth in using them.
We have said that Paddy, when engaged in a fight, is never at a loss for
a weapon, and we may also affirm that he is never at a loss for an
oath. When relating a narrative, or some other circumstance of his own
invention, if contradicted, he will corroborate it, in order to sustain
his credit or produce the proper impression, by an abrupt oath upon the
first object he can seize. “Arrah, nonsense! by this pipe in my hand,
it's as thrue as”--and then, before he completes the illustration, he
goes on with a fine specimen of equivocation--“By the stool I'm sittin'
an, it is; an' what more would, you have from me barrin' I take my book
oath of it?” Thus does he, under the mask of an insinuation, induce you
to believe that he has actually sworn it, whereas the oath is always
left undefined and incomplete.
Sometimes he is exceedingly comprehensive in his adjurations, and swears
upon a magnificent scale; as, for instance,--“By the contints of all
the books that ever wor opened an' shut, it's as thrue as the sun to
the dial.” This certainly leaves “the five crasses” immeasurably behind.
However, be cautious, and not too confident in taking so sweeping and
learned an oath upon trust, notwithstanding its imposing effect. We
grant, indeed, that an oath which comprehends within its scope all the
learned libraries of Europe, including even the Alexandrian of old, is
not only an erudite one, but establishes in a high degree the taste of
the swearer, and displays on his part an uncommon grasp of intellect.
Still we recommend you, whenever you hear an alleged fact substantiated
by it, to set your ear as sharply as possible; for, after all, it
is more than probable that every book by which he has sworn might be
contained in a nutshell. The secret may be briefly explained:--Paddy is
in the habit of substituting the word never for ever. “By all the books
that never wor opened or shut,” the reader perceives, is only a nourish
of trumpets--a mere delusion of the enemy.
In fact, Paddy has oaths rising gradually from the lying ludicrous to
the superstitious solemn, each of which finely illustrates the nature of
the subject to which it is applied. When he swears “By the contints o'
Moll Kelly's Primer,” or “By the piper that played afore Moses,” you
are, perhaps, as strongly inclined to believe him as when he draws upon
a more serious oath; that is, you almost regret the thing is not the
gospel that Paddy asserts it to be. In the former sense, the humorous
narrative which calls forth the laughable burlesque of “By the piper o'
Moses,” is usually the richest lie in the whole range of fiction.
Paddy is, in his ejaculatory, as well as in all his other mock oaths, a
kind, of smuggler in morality, imposing as often as he can upon his own
conscience, and upon those who exercise spiritual authority over him.
Perhaps more of his oaths are blood-stained than would be found among
the inhabitants of all Christendom put together.
Paddy's oaths in his amours are generally rich specimens of humorous
knavery and cunning. It occasionally happens--but for the honor of
our virtuous countrywomen, we say but rarely--that by the honey of his
flattering and delusive tongue, he succeeds in placing some unsuspecting
girl's reputation in rather a hazardous predicament. When the priest
comes to investigate the affair, and to cause him to make compensation
to the innocent creature who suffered by his blandishments, it is almost
uniformly ascertained that, in order to satisfy her scruples as to
the honesty of his promises, he had sworn marriage to her on a book
of ballads!!! In other cases blank books have been used for the same
purpose.
If, however, you wish to pin Paddy up in a corner, get him a Relic, a
Catholic prayer-book, or a Douay Bible to swear upon. Here is where the
fox--notwithstanding all his turnings and windings upon heretic Bibles,
books, or ballads, or mock oaths--is caught at last. The strongest
principle in him is superstition. It may be found as the prime mover in
his best and worst actions. An atrocious man, who is superstitious, will
perform many good and charitable actions, with a hope that their merit
in the sight of God may cancel the guilt of his crimes. On the other
hand, a good man, who is superstitiously the slave of his religious
opinions, will lend himself to those illegal combinations, whose object
is, by keeping ready a system of organized opposition to an heretical
government, to fulfil, if a political crisis should render it
practicable, the absurd prophecies of Pastorini and Columbkil. Although
the prophecies of the former would appear to be out of date to a
rational reader, yet Paddy, who can see farther into prophecy than any
rational reader, honestly believes that Pastorini has left for those who
are superstitiously given, sufficient range of expectation in several
parts of his work.
We might enumerate many other oaths in frequent use among the peasantry;
but as our object is not to detail them at full length, we trust that
those already specified may be considered sufficient to enable our
readers to get a fuller insight into their character, and their moral
influence upon the people.
The next thing which occurs to us in connection with the present
subject, is cursing; and here again Paddy holds the first place. His
imprecations are often full, bitter, and intense. Indeed, there is more
poetry and epigrammatic point in them than in those of any other country
in the world.
We find it a difficult thing to enumerate the Irish curses, so as to do
justice to a subject so varied and so liable to be shifted and improved
by the fertile genius of those who send them abroad. Indeed, to reduce
them into order and method would be a task of considerable difficulty.
Every occasion, and every fit of passion, frequently produce a new
curse, perhaps equal in bitterness to any that has gone before it.
Many of the Irish imprecations are difficult to be understood, having
their origin in some historical event, or in poetical metaphors that
require a considerable process of reasoning to explain them. Of this
twofold class is that general one, “The curse of Cromwell on you!” which
means, may you suffer all that a tyrant like Cromwell would inflict! and
“The curse o'the crows upon you!” which is probably an allusion to
the Danish invasion--a raven being the symbol of Denmark; or it may be
tantamount to “May you rot on the hills, that the crows may feed upon
your carcass!” Perhaps it may thus be understood to imprecate death upon
you or some member of your house--alluding to the superstition of rooks
hovering over the habitations of the sick, when the malady with which
they are afflicted is known to be fatal. Indeed, the latter must
certainly be the meaning of it, as is evident from the proverb of “Die,
an' give the crow a puddin'.”
“Hell's cure to you!--the devil's luck to you!--high hanging to
you!--hard feeling to you!--a short coorse to you!” are all pretty
intense, and generally used under provocation and passion. In these
cases the curses just mentioned are directed immediately to the
offensive object, and there certainly is no want of the _malus animus_
to give them energy. It would be easy to multiply the imprecations
belonging to this class among the peasantry, but the task is rather
unpleasant. There are a few, however, which, in consequence of their
ingenuity, we cannot pass over: they are, in sooth, studies for the
swearer. “May you never die till you see your own funeral!” is a very
beautiful specimen of the periphrasis: it simply means, may you be
hanged; for he who is hanged is humorously said to be favored with a
view of that sombre spectacle, by which they mean the crowd that attends
an execution. To the same purpose is, “May you die wid a caper in your
heel!”--“May you die in your pumps!”--“May your last dance be a hornpipe
on the air!” These are all emblematic of hanging, and are uttered
sometimes in jest, and occasionally in earnest. “May the grass grow
before your door!” is highly imaginative and poetical. Nothing, indeed,
can present the mind with a stronger or more picturesque emblem of
desolation and ruin. Its malignity is terrible.
There are also mock imprecations as well as mock oaths. Of this
character are, “The devil go with you an' sixpence, an' thin you'll
want neither money nor company!” This humorous and considerate curse
is generally confined to the female sex. When Paddy happens to be in a
romping mood, and teases his sweetheart too much, she usually utters it
with a countenance combating with smiles and frowns, while she stands in
the act of pinning up her dishevelled hair; her cheeks, particularly the
one next Paddy, deepened into a becoming blush.
“Bad scran to you!” is another form seldom used in anger: it is the same
as “Hard feeding to you!” “Bad win' to you!” is “Ill health to you!”
it is nearly the same as “Consumin' (consumption) to you!” Two other
imprecations come under this head, which we will class together, because
they are counterparts of each other, with this difference, that one of
them is the most subtilely and intensely withering in its purport that
can well be conceived. The one is that common curse, “Bad 'cess to you!”
that is, bad success to you: we may identify it with “Hard fortune to
you!” The other is a keen one, indeed--“Sweet bad luck to you!” Now,
whether we consider the epithet sweet as bitterly ironical, or deem it
as a wish that prosperity may harden the heart to the accomplishment of
future damnation, as in the case of Dives, we must in either sense grant
that it is an oath of powerful hatred and venom. Occasionally the curse
of “Bad luck to you!” produces an admirable retort, which is pretty
common. When one man applies it to another, he is answered with “Good
luck to you, thin; but may neither of thim ever happen.”
“Six eggs to you, an' half-a-dozen o' them rotten!”--like “The devil go
with you an' sixpence!” is another of those pleasantries which mostly
occur in the good-humored badinage between the sexes. It implies
disappointment.
There is a species of imprecation prevalent among Irishmen which we may
term neutral. It is ended by the word bit, and merely results from a
habit of swearing where there is no malignity of purpose. An Irishman,
when corroborating an assertion, however true or false, will often
say, “Bad luck to the bit but it is;”--“Divil fire the bit but it's
thruth!”--“Damn the bit but it is!” and so on. In this form the mind is
not moved, nor the passions excited: it is therefore probably the most
insipid of all their imprecations.
Some of the most dreadful maledictions are to be heard among the
confirmed mendicants of Ireland. The wit, the gall, and the poetry
of these are uncommon. “May you melt off the earth like snow off the
ditch!” is one of a high order and intense malignity; but it is not
exclusively confined to mendicants, although they form that class among
which it is most prevalent. Nearly related to this is, “May you melt
like butther before a summer sun!” These are, indeed, essentially
poetical; they present the mind with appropriate imagery, and exhibit a
comparison perfectly just and striking. The former we think unrivalled.
Some of the Irish imprecations would appear to have come down to us from
the Ordeals. Of this class, probably, are the following: “May this be
poison to me!”--“May I be roasted on red hot iron!” Others of them,
from their boldness of metaphor, seem to be of Oriental descent. One
expression, indeed, is strikingly so. When a deep offence is offered
to an Irishman, under such peculiar circumstances that he cannot
immediately retaliate, he usually replies to his enemy--“You'll sup
sorrow for this!”--“You'll curse the day it happened!”--“I'll make you
rub your heels together!” All those figurative denunciations are used
for the purpose of intimating the pain and agony he will compel his
enemy to suffer.
We cannot omit a form of imprecation for good, which is also habitual
among the peasantry of Ireland. It is certainly harmless, and argues
benevolence of heart. We mean such expressions as the following:
“Salvation to me!--May I never do harm!--May I never do an ill
turn!--May I never sin!” These are generally used by men who are
blameless and peaceable in their lives--simple and well-disposed in
their intercourse with the world.
At the head of those Irish imprecations which are dreaded by the people,
the Excommunication, of course, holds the first and most formidable
place. In the eyes of men of sense it is as absurd as it is illiberal:
but to the ignorant and superstitious, who look upon it as anything but
a _brutum fulmen_, it is terrible indeed.
Next in order are the curses of priests in their private capacity,
pilgrims, mendicants, and idiots. Of those also Paddy entertains a
wholesome dread; a circumstance which the pilgrim and mendicant turn
with great judgment to their own account. Many a legend and anecdote do
such chroniclers relate, when the family, with whom they rest for
the night, are all seated around the winter hearth. These are often
illustrative of the baneful effects of the poor man's curse. Of course
they produce a proper impression; and, accordingly, Paddy avoids
offending such persons in any way that might bring him under their
displeasure.
A certain class of cursers much dreaded in Ireland are those of
the widow and the orphan. There is, however, something touching and
beautiful in this fear of injuring the sorrowful and unprotected. It
is, we are happy to say, a becoming and prominent feature in Paddy's
character; for, to do him justice in his virtues as well as in his
vices, we repeat that he cannot be surpassed in his humanity to the
lonely widow and her helpless orphans. He will collect a number of his
friends, and proceed with them in a body to plant her bit of potato
ground, to reap her oats, to draw home her turf, or secure her hay. Nay,
he will beguile her of her sorrows with a natural sympathy and delicacy
that do him honor; his heart is open to her complaints, and his hand
ever extended to assist her.
There is a strange opinion to be found in Ireland upon the subject of
curses. The peasantry think that a curse, no matter how uttered, will
fall on something; but that it depends upon the person against whom it
is directed, whether or not it will descend on him. A curse, we have
heard them say, will rest for seven years in the air, ready to alight
upon the head of the person who provoked the malediction. It hovers
over him, like a kite over its prey, watching the moment when he may
be abandoned by his guardian angel: if this occurs, it shoots with the
rapidity of a meteor on his head, and clings to him in the shape of
illness, temptation, or some other calamity.
They think, however, that the blessing of one person may cancel the
curse of another; but this opinion does not affect the theory we have
just mentioned. When a man experiences an unpleasant accident, they will
say, “He has had some poor body's curse;” and, on the contrary, when he
narrowly escapes it, they say, “He has had some poor body's blessing.”