My mother's good looks, amiable disposition, and reputed fortune raised
up a host of admirers, greatly to her annoyance, for she had, or fully
thought she had, made up her mind to live a widow; or at all events, as
she told my Aunt Ellen, if she married anyone it should be a sailor, in
respect to my father's memory. I liked Ellen more than any of my other
relations. She was more like my mother than the rest of her sisters.
She had much of my mother's beauty, though with more animal spirits, and
was altogether on a larger scale, as I think I have said. She was
engaged to marry a certain Mr Pat Kilcullin, who I heard was a
gentleman of property some distance further west; and that he had a real
castle and a good estate, somewhat encumbered to be sure, as became his
old family and position. How many hundreds or thousands a year it might
once have produced I do not know; but as he and his father before him,
and his grandfather, and other remote ancestors had generally taken care
to spend double their income, it could not but be supposed that he and
they were occasionally in difficulties. As, however, his father had
lived, so my intended uncle purposed living also. I will not describe
the wedding further than to say that my grandfather was nearly out and
out ruined by it. He and his guests all got gloriously drunk. Mr
Gillooly and Tim Laffan fell out about my mother, and came to blows in
her presence. They were separated by two of the other guests--a certain
Dan Hogan, a good-looking exciseman, who was also a suitor for her hand,
and Captain Michael Tracy, the master of a merchantman, who had lately
come home after a few successful trading voyages to the West Indies. As
he, however, was the most sober of the party, he came worst off in the
fray, and had not my mother come to his rescue with the aid of her
sisters, he would, I have an idea, have been severely handled. Whether
or not he was touched by this exhibition of her courage I do not know;
but he certainly from that day forward became her warm admirer, and
certainly if she showed a preference to anyone it was to him. I did not
suppose I had so many relations in the world as turned up at that feast,
of high and low degree: the greater number, however, it must be
confessed, were of the latter rank. The bride looked beautiful, and the
bridegroom in the height of his feelings invited all the guests to pay
him a visit that day fortnight at Ballyswiggan Castle. The bridegroom
was taken at his word, and though I rather think my Aunt Ellen might
have been somewhat annoyed, there was no means of escaping. My mother
was, however, unwilling to be present at so uproarious a scene as she
knew pretty well was likely to take place; but my grandfather and her
sisters insisted upon her accompanying them, and of course I went with
her. Some of the guests, however, were not likely to make their
appearance, and for the best of reasons Mr Laffan and Dan Hogan could
not be present, as it was well-known that no lawyer nor exciseman had
ever ventured to set foot in the district in which Ballyswiggan Castle
was situated. Most of the guests went on horseback, as the approach was
scarcely suited to wheeled carriages. My grandmother was too infirm to
move, but my grandfather mounted a rawboned back which had carried him
in his younger days, and my aunts and mother rode on their rough ponies.
Pat Brady, who, finding himself so happy on shore, had put off going to
sea, and I rode together on a beast which we had borrowed for the
occasion.
Ballyswiggan Castle was situated amidst fine wild scenery within sound
of the roar of the mighty Atlantic. The building itself was in a
somewhat dilapidated condition, but exhibited signs of having been once
a place of importance. Some out-houses had likewise been strewn with
fresh straw to afford sleeping accommodation to a portion of the guests
who could not find room within, while sheds and barns had been cleared
out for the reception of their steeds.
"Ye are welcome to Ballyswiggan, by my faith ye are!" exclaimed Uncle
Pat, as our party arrived, a sentiment which was uttered by Aunt Ellen
without any pretension to mock modesty, while she laughed heartily at
the complimentary remarks which were passed on her good looks and high
spirits.
"Small blame to Rincurran Castle if I am not after getting somewhat
stouter here than I did under my paternal roof," she answered, intending
to allude simply to the meagre fare of her ancestral mansion, though
from the giggles of some of the ladies, I rather suspect they put a
different interpretation upon the remark. To say the truth,
Ballyswiggan Castle had been stored with all sorts of provisions, and no
end of casks of whisky, so that there appeared little chance of the
guests starving or having to suffer from dry throats. We, with other
visitors from a distance, arrived the day before the dinner and ball
were to take place. On that morning, Peter Crean, steward and factotum
to my uncle, awoke him with the news that a ship of war was beating into
the Bay, "And sure," he observed, "it would be a fine opportunity, Mr
Kilcullin, to show your loyalty and love to His Majesty's government, to
invite the officers. They will make a fine show in the ball-room too,
with their gold lace coats, and white breeches, and may be may make some
of the gentlemen jealous, and just bring matters to a close, which have
been kept off and on for some months past. The mothers will be pleased,
and the girls will be thanking you from the bottom of their hearts."
This sage advice was instantly followed by my uncle, who, habiting
himself in his wedding suit, ordered his horse that he might ride down
to the Bay, and be early on board to give the proposed invitation.
There were no fears about it being accepted, and, as may be supposed, it
formed the subject of conversation at the breakfast-table when it was
announced where my uncle had gone. His return was accordingly looked
for with no little anxiety, especially by the young ladies of the party,
including my three spinster aunts. Mr Kilcullin was not very long
absent.
"They will all come!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hat, "and faith,
they're a fine set of gentlemen. She is a frigate, they tell me, but
her name has escaped me, and it is my belief they will toe and heel it
with the best of you, gentlemen, and may do something towards breaking
the hearts of some of you young ladies. However, we will do our best to
make them welcome, for the honour of ould Ireland."
As the hour of dinner approached, the guests began to arrive in
considerable numbers; and carts, and cars, and waggons came bumping and
thumping over the uneven path, though the greater part made their
appearance on horseback. I was looking out of a window which commanded
the approach to the castle, when I saw coming along the road a large
party of naval officers, whose well-known uniform I at once recognised
as they drew nearer, and I fancied I knew two of those who led the way.
On they came; I could not be mistaken. There were Captain Oliver and
Lieutenant Schank, and several other officers and midshipmen whom I
remembered on board the "Grecian". I ran to my poor mother with delight
to tell her this. She turned pale, recollecting the sorrow she had gone
through when last she saw them.
"I cannot face them," she said; "but you go, Ben; they will be glad to
see you; I should feel out of place in their company, and though my
family may be as good as that of many among them, they knew me under
such different circumstances, that I should not like to be sitting at
table with them."
On hearing my mother make these remarks, I too was seized with a bashful
fit, but she insisted on my going down to meet them; and at length
mustering courage, I ran downstairs. Captain Oliver did not at first
know me, but Mr Schank recognised me at once.
"What, Ben, my boy, what brings you here?" he exclaimed.
I soon explained that Mr Kilcullin had married my aunt, and that my
mother and I were among the guests.
"Ah! I always thought she was above her position on board," he observed
to Captain Oliver, who, when he found out who I was, shook me warmly by
the hand.
"Well, Ben, recollect I shall keep to my promise, and when your mother
can spare you, I will take you with me."
"I hope we shall see her, Ben," observed Mr Schank, kindly; "I should
like to shake hands with her." I told him how she felt on the subject.
"Oh!" he said, "that cannot signify. Tell her we shall not half enjoy
the evening unless she comes down." The officers now arrived in the
entrance hall, where my uncle and aunt were standing to welcome their
guests. Of course they received them with all due honour.
"We're in a wild part of the country, Captain Oliver and gentlemen, but
we will show you, at all events, that we have hospitable intentions,
however roughly we may carry them out," said my uncle.
The great dining-hall was very soon filled, and several adjoining rooms,
the guests of inferior quality, of whom there were a good many, making
themselves happy in separate parties wherever they could find room to
sit down. Among those most active in attending to the wants of the
guests, and directing the other serving-men, were Peter Crean and Pat
Brady, who was a host in himself, for though second cousin to the bride,
he did not at all object to acting the part of a servant. As room was
scarce, I was among the picnickers outside. The feast was progressing,
when I saw Pat Brady come up to Peter Crean, pulling, for him, a
wonderfully long face.
"Faith Peter!" I heard him say, "I do not at all like his looks.
There's a hang-dog expression about him, and to my mind he's a bailiff
in disguise!"
"A what?" exclaimed Peter. "Has one of them vipers ventured into the
neighbourhood of Ballyswiggan? Faith, then, it would have been better
for him had he never seen this part of the country, for it will never do
to let him go boasting that he set his foot in it without being
discovered. Where is he?"
"He is just now outside the gate," answered Pat; "but I told two or
three of the boys to keep him talking, and on no account to let him come
beyond it. I think they have just got an idea that he will not be
altogether a welcome guest."
"I have no doubt who he is, then," observed Peter Crean. "I have been
expecting him. And, sure, he must not see the master, or he would be
spoiling the fun of to-day, and for many a long day afterwards. Here,
Pat, you go and talk to him, and I will just make arrangements to
receive him."
Peter Crean was a man of action. A small room was cleared of visitors,
a table prepared with viands and various liquors. This done, Peter
hurried out to receive the guest. His suspicions were thoroughly
confirmed on his inspection of the man.
"Your name, sir," he said, "that I may make you welcome to Ballyswiggan
Castle. My master is just now particularly engaged with a few guests,
but he will be happy to see you when the wine is on the table; and, in
the meantime, you will just come in and satisfy your appetite. You have
had a long ride since you took anything to eat, barring maybe the
whisky, which is not quite so rare on the road."
"My name is Jonas Quelch, at your service," answered the stranger, "and
I come from England, though I have been living for some time in Dublin.
It's a fine city, that Dublin."
"Faith it is, Mr Quelch," observed Crean; "and fine people in it, and
rogues in it, and the rogues sometimes come out of it, and when they do
they are pretty glad to get back again, for we don't like rogues in
these parts, Mr Quelch. But I will not keep you sitting on your horse;
that will be taken to the stable, and you will just come in, as I said,
and partake of the scanty fare this poor part of the country can
afford."
He spoke in a satirical tone. Mr Quelch, holding his riding-whip in
his hand, as if for defence, followed him into the house. Peter. Crean
was, however, all courtesy and attention. He entreated his visitor to
make himself at home, and helped him abundantly to the good things in
the dishes placed before him, nor did he omit to ply him with whisky.
Glass upon glass he induced him to pour down his throat, till I began to
wonder how he could swallow so much without inconvenience. He was
evidently a hardened vessel. Crean, however, had not yet done with him.
He now placed before him a flagon of claret.
"Faith, this is the stuff for a gentleman," he observed. "You may just
empty the bottle, and feel none the worse, but rather much the better
than when you began."
The stranger, nothing loath, followed the advice of the steward. By
degrees, however, Mr Quelch's speech became thick, and his conversation
more and more incoherent. Crean watched him with a wicked look in his
eyes, continuing to press the liquor more and more warmly upon him.
"Come, now, Mr Quelch, just let's begin another bottle. I have always
found, where one bottle confuses a man's head, a second one puts him all
to rights again. Now, I should not be surprised but that you are
beginning to feel a little fuddled."
"You are right, friend," answered Mr Quelch, though the words were
jerked out in a manner indicative of his state.
"Just so; and, now, follow my advice. Take the other bottle to cure
you. We never like a stranger to come to this part of old Ireland
without showing him due hospitality."
Mr Quelch, unaccustomed to claret, drank it as he would beer, and
before he had finished the second bottle, on the top of almost an equal
quantity of whisky, his head began to nod, and finally it dropped down
on the table, where he let it remain, completely overcome.