SOME FRIENDS, WHO HAVE SEEN THADY’S HISTORY SINCE IT HAS BEEN PRINTED
HAVE SUGGESTED TO THE EDITOR, THAT MANY OF THE TERMS AND IDIOMATIC
PHRASES, WITH WHICH IT ABOUNDS, COULD NOT BE INTELLIGIBLE TO THE ENGLISH
READER WITHOUT FURTHER EXPLANATION. THE EDITOR HAS THEREFORE FURNISHED
THE FOLLOWING GLOSSARY.
[1] MONDAY MORNING--Thady begins his memoirs of the Rackrent Family by
dating MONDAY MORNING, because no great undertaking can be auspiciously
commenced in Ireland on any morning but MONDAY MORNING. ‘Oh, please God
we live till Monday morning, we’ll set the slater to mend the roof of
the house. On Monday morning we’ll fall to, and cut the turf. On Monday
morning we’ll see and begin mowing. On Monday morning, please your
honour, we’ll begin and dig the potatoes,’ etc.
All the intermediate days, between the making of such speeches and the
ensuing Monday, are wasted: and when Monday morning comes, it is ten to
one that the business is deferred to THE NEXT Monday morning. The Editor
knew a gentleman, who, to counteract this prejudice, made his workmen
and labourers begin all new pieces of work upon a Saturday.
[2] LET ALONE THE THREE KINGDOMS ITSELF.--LET ALONE, in this sentence,
means put out of consideration. The phrase, let alone, which is now
used as the imperative of a verb, may in time become a conjunction, and
may exercise the ingenuity of some future etymologist. The celebrated
Horne Tooke has proved most satisfactorily, that the conjunction but
comes from the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb (BEOUTAN) TO BE OUT;
also, that IF comes from GIF, the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb
which signifies TO GIVE, etc.
[3]. WHILLALUH.--Ullaloo, Gol, or lamentation over the dead--
Magnoque ululante tumultu.--VIRGIL.
Ululatibus omne
Implevere nemus.--OVID.
A full account of the Irish Gol, or Ullaloo, and of the Caoinan or Irish
funeral song, with its first semichorus, second semichorus, full chorus
of sighs and groans, together with the Irish words and music, may
be found in the fourth volume of the TRANSACTIONS OF THE ROYAL IRISH
ACADEMY. For the advantage of LAZY readers, who would rather read a page
than walk a yard, and from compassion, not to say sympathy, with their
infirmity, the Editor transcribes the following passages:--
‘The Irish have been always remarkable for their funeral lamentations;
and this peculiarity has been noticed by almost every traveller who
visited them; and it seems derived from their Celtic ancestors, the
primaeval inhabitants of this isle. . . .
‘It has been affirmed of the Irish, that to cry was more natural to them
than to any other nation, and at length the Irish cry became proverbial.
. . . .
‘Cambrensis in the twelfth century says, the Irish then musically
expressed their griefs; that is, they applied the musical art, in
which they excelled all others, to the orderly celebration of funeral
obsequies, by dividing the mourners into two bodies, each alternately
singing their part, and the whole at times joining in full chorus. . . .
The body of the deceased, dressed in grave clothes, and ornamented with
flowers, was placed on a bier, or some elevated spot. The relations and
keepers (SINGING MOURNERS) ranged themselves in two divisions, one
at the head, and the other at the feet of the corpse. The bards and
croteries had before prepared the funeral Caoinan. The chief bard of the
head chorus began by singing the first stanza, in a low, doleful tone,
which was softly accompanied by the harp: at the conclusion, the foot
semichorus began the lamentation, or Ullaloo, from the final note of the
preceding stanza, in which they were answered by the head semichorus;
then both united in one general chorus. The chorus of the first stanza
being ended, the chief bard of the foot semichorus began the second Gol
or lamentation, in which he was answered by that of the head; and then,
as before, both united in the general full chorus. Thus alternately were
the song and choruses performed during the night. The genealogy, rank,
possessions, the virtues and vices of the dead were rehearsed, and a
number of interrogations were addressed to the deceased; as, Why did he
die? If married, whether his wife was faithful to him, his sons dutiful,
or good hunters or warriors? If a woman, whether her daughters were fair
or chaste? If a young man, whether he had been crossed in love; or if
the blue-eyed maids of Erin treated him with scorn?’
We are told, that formerly the feet (the metrical feet) of the Caoinan
were much attended to; but on the decline of the Irish bards these feet
were gradually neglected, and the Caoinan fell into a sort of slipshod
metre amongst women. Each province had different Caoinans, or at least
different imitations of the original. There was the Munster cry, the
Ulster cry, etc. It became an extempore performance, and every set of
keepers varied the melody according to their own fancy.
It is curious to observe how customs and ceremonies degenerate. The
present Irish cry, or howl, cannot boast of such melody, nor is the
funeral procession conducted with much dignity. The crowd of people who
assemble at these funerals sometimes amounts to a thousand, often to
four or five hundred. They gather as the bearers of the hearse proceed
on their way, and when they pass through any village, or when they
come near any houses, they begin to cry--Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Agh! Agh!
raising their notes from the first OH! to the last AGH! in a kind of
mournful howl. This gives notice to the inhabitants of the village that
a FUNERAL IS PASSING and immediately they flock out to follow it. In
the province of Munster it is a common thing for the women to follow a
funeral, to join in the universal cry with all their might and main for
some time, and then to turn and ask--‘Arrah! who is it that’s dead?--who
is it we’re crying for?’ Even the poorest people have their own
burying-places--that is, spots of ground in the churchyards where
they say that their ancestors have been buried ever since the wars of
Ireland; and if these burial-places are ten miles from the place where
a man dies, his friends and neighbours take care to carry his corpse
thither. Always one priest, often five or six priests, attend these
funerals; each priest repeats a mass, for which he is paid, sometimes a
shilling, sometimes half a crown, sometimes half a guinea, or a guinea,
according to their circumstances, or, as they say, according to the
ability of the deceased. After the burial of any very poor man, who has
left a widow or children, the priest makes what is called a COLLECTION
for the widow; he goes round to every person present, and each
contributes sixpence or a shilling, or what they please. The reader will
find in the note upon the word WAKE, more particulars respecting the
conclusion of the Irish funerals.
Certain old women, who cry particularly loud and well are in great
request, and, as a man said to the Editor, ‘Every one would wish and be
proud to have such at his funeral, or at that of his friends.’ The lower
Irish are wonderfully eager to attend the funerals of their friends
and relations, and they make their relationships branch out to a great
extent. The proof that a poor man has been well beloved during his life
is his having a crowded funeral. To attend a neighbour’s funeral is a
cheap proof of humanity, but it does not, as some imagine, cost nothing.
The time spent in attending funerals may be safely valued at half a
million to the Irish nation; the Editor thinks that double that
sum would not be too high an estimate. The habits of profligacy
and drunkenness which are acquired at WAKES are here put out of the
question. When a labourer, a carpenter, or a smith, is not at his work,
which frequently happens, ask where he is gone, and ten to one the
answer is--‘Oh, faith, please your honour, he couldn’t do a stroke
to-day, for he’s gone to THE funeral.’
Even beggars, when they grow old, go about begging FOR THEIR OWN
FUNERALS that is, begging for money to buy a coffin, candles, pipes, and
tobacco. For the use of the candles, pipes, and tobacco, see WAKE.
Those who value customs in proportion to their antiquity, and nations in
proportion to their adherence to ancient customs, will doubtless admire
the Irish ULLALOO, and the Irish nation, for persevering in this usage
from time immemorial. The Editor, however, has observed some alarming
symptoms, which seem to prognosticate the declining taste for the
Ullaloo in Ireland. In a comic theatrical entertainment, represented not
long since on the Dublin stage, a chorus of old women was introduced,
who set up the Irish howl round the relics of a physician, who is
supposed to have fallen under the wooden sword of Harlequin. After the
old women have continued their Ullaloo for a decent time, with all the
necessary accompaniments of wringing their hands, wiping or rubbing
their eyes with the corners of their gowns or aprons, etc., one of the
mourners suddenly suspends her lamentable cries, and, turning to her
neighbour, asks, ‘Arrah now, honey, who is it we’re crying for?’
[4] THE TENANTS WERE SENT AWAY WITHOUT THEIR WHISKY.--It is usual with
some landlords to give their inferior tenants a glass of whisky when
they pay their rents. Thady calls it THEIR whisky; not that the whisky
is actually the property of the tenants, but that it becomes their
RIGHT after it has been often given to them. In this general mode of
reasoning respecting RIGHTS the lower Irish are not singular, but they
are peculiarly quick and tenacious in claiming these rights. ‘Last year
your honour gave me some straw for the roof of my house and I EXPECT
your honour will be after doing the same this year.’ In this manner
gifts are frequently turned into tributes. The high and low are not
always dissimilar in their habits. It is said, that the Sublime Ottoman
Port is very apt to claim gifts as tributes: thus it is dangerous to
send the Grand Seignor a fine horse on his birthday one year, lest on
his next birthday he should expect a similar present, and should
proceed to demonstrate the reasonableness of his expectations.
[5] HE DEMEANED HIMSELF GREATLY--means, he lowered or disgraced himself
much.
[6] DUTY FOWLS, DUTY TURKEYS, AND DUTY GEESE.--In many leases in
Ireland, tenants were formerly bound to supply an inordinate quantity
of poultry to their landlords. The Editor knew of thirty turkeys being
reserved in one lease of a small farm.
[7] ENGLISH TENANTS.--An English tenant does not mean a tenant who is
an Englishman, but a tenant who pays his rent the day that it is due.
It is a common prejudice in Ireland, amongst the poorer classes of
people, to believe that all tenants in England pay their rents on the
very day when they become due. An Irishman, when he goes to take a
farm, if he wants to prove to his landlord that he is a substantial
man, offers to become an ENGLISH TENANT. If a tenant disobliges his
landlord by voting against him, or against his opinion, at an election,
the tenant is immediately informed by the agent that he must become an
ENGLISH TENANT. This threat does not imply that he is to change his
language or his country, but that he must pay all the arrear of rent
which he owes, and that he must thenceforward pay his rent on that day
when it becomes due.
[8] CANTING--Does not mean talking or writing hypocritical nonsense,
but selling substantially by auction.
[9] DUTY WORK.--It was formerly common in Ireland to insert clauses in leases, binding
tenants to furnish their landlords with labourers and horses for several
days in the year. Much petty tyranny and oppression have resulted from
this feudal custom. Whenever a poor man disobliged his landlord, the
agent sent to him for his duty work; and Thady does not exaggerate when
he says, that the tenants were often called from their own work to do
that of their landlord. Thus the very means of earning their rent were
taken from them: whilst they were getting home their landlord’s harvest,
their own was often ruined, and yet their rents were expected to be paid
as punctually as if their time had been at their own disposal. This
appears the height of absurd injustice.
In Esthonia, amongst the poor Sclavonian race of peasant slaves, they
pay tributes to their lords, not under the name of duty work, duty
geese, duty turkeys, etc., but under the name of RIGHTEOUSNESSES. The
following ballad is a curious specimen of Esthonian poetry:--
This is the cause that the country is ruined,
And the straw of the thatch is eaten away,
The gentry are come to live in the land--
Chimneys between the village,
And the proprietor upon the white floor!
The sheep brings forth a lamb with a white forehead,
This is paid to the lord for a RIGHTEOUSNESS SHEEP.
The sow farrows pigs,
They go to the spit of the lord.
The hen lays eggs,
They go into the lord’s frying-pan.
The cow drops a male calf,
That goes into the lord’s herd as a bull.
The mare foals a horse foal,
That must be for my lord’s nag.
The boor’s wife has sons,
They must go to look after my lord’s poultry.
[10] OUT OF FORTY-NINE SUITS WHICH HE HAD, HE NEVER LOST ONE BUT
SEVENTEEN.--Thady’s language in this instance is a specimen of a mode
of rhetoric common in Ireland. An astonishing assertion is made in the
beginning of a sentence, which ceases to be in the least surprising,
when you hear the qualifying explanation that follows. Thus a man who
is in the last stage of staggering drunkenness will, if he can
articulate, swear to you--‘Upon his conscience now, and may he never
stir from the spot alive if he is telling a lie, upon his conscience he
has not tasted a drop of anything, good or bad, since morning
at-all-at-all, but half a pint of whisky, please your honour.’
[11]. FAIRY MOUNTS--Barrows. It is said that these high mounts were of great service to
the natives of Ireland when Ireland was invaded by the Danes. Watch was
always kept on them, and upon the approach of an enemy a fire was
lighted to give notice to the next watch, and thus the intelligence was
quickly communicated through the country. SOME YEARS AGO, the common
people believed that these barrows were inhabited by fairies, or, as
they called them, by the GOOD PEOPLE. ‘Oh, troth, to the best of my
belief, and to the best of my judgment and opinion,’ said an elderly man
to the Editor, ‘it was only the old people that had nothing to do, and
got together, and were telling stories about them fairies, but to the
best of my judgment there’s nothing in it. Only this I heard myself not
very many years back from a decent kind of a man, a grazier, that, as he
was coming just FAIR AND EASY (QUIETLY) from the fair, with some cattle
and sheep, that he had not sold, just at the church of ---at an angle of
the road like, he was met by a good-looking man, who asked him where he
was going? And he answered, “Oh, far enough, I must be going all night.”
“No, that you mustn’t nor won’t (says the man), you’ll sleep with me the
night, and you’ll want for nothing, nor your cattle nor sheep neither,
nor your BEAST (HORSE); so come along with me.” With that the grazier
LIT (ALIGHTED) from his horse, and it was dark night; but presently he
finds himself, he does not know in the wide world how, in a fine house,
and plenty of everything to eat and drink; nothing at all wanting that
he could wish for or think of. And he does not MIND (RECOLLECT or KNOW)
how at last he falls asleep; and in the morning he finds himself lying,
not in ever a bed or a house at all, but just in the angle of the road
where first he met the strange man: there he finds himself lying on his
back on the grass, and all his sheep feeding as quiet as ever all round
about him, and his horse the same way, and the bridle of the beast over
his wrist. And I asked him what he thought of it; and from first to last
he could think of nothing, but for certain sure it must have been the
fairies that entertained him so well. For there was no house to see
anywhere nigh hand, or any building, or barn, or place at all, but only
the church and the MOTE (BARROW). There’s another odd thing enough that
they tell about this same church, that if any person’s corpse, that had
not a right to be buried in that churchyard, went to be burying there in
it, no, not all the men, women, or childer in all Ireland could get the
corpse anyway into the churchyard; but as they would be trying to go
into the churchyard, their feet would seem to be going backwards instead
of forwards; ay, continually backwards the whole funeral would seem to
go; and they would never set foot with the corpse in the churchyard. Now
they say that it is the fairies do all this; but it is my opinion it is
all idle talk, and people are after being wiser now.
The country people in Ireland certainly HAD great admiration mixed with
reverence, if not dread, of fairies. They believed that beneath these
fairy mounts were spacious subterraneous palaces, inhabited by THE GOOD
PEOPLE, who must not on any account be disturbed. When the wind raises
a little eddy of dust upon the road, the poor people believe that it is
raised by the fairies, that it is a sign that they are journeying from
one of the fairies’ mounts to another, and they say to the fairies, or
to the dust as it passes, ‘God speed ye, gentlemen; God speed ye.’ This
averts any evil that THE GOOD PEOPLE might be inclined to do them. There
are innumerable stories told of the friendly and unfriendly feats of
these busy fairies; some of these tales are ludicrous, and some romantic
enough for poetry. It is a pity that poets should lose such convenient,
though diminutive machinery. By the bye, Parnell, who showed himself
so deeply ‘skilled in faerie lore,’ was an Irishman; and though he
has presented his fairies to the world in the ancient English dress
of ‘Britain’s isle, and Arthur’s days,’ it is probable that his first
acquaintance with them began in his native country.
Some remote origin for the most superstitious or romantic popular
illusions or vulgar errors may often be discovered. In Ireland, the old
churches and churchyards have been usually fixed upon as the scenes of
wonders. Now antiquaries tell us, that near the ancient churches in
that kingdom caves of various constructions have from time to time been
discovered, which were formerly used as granaries or magazines by the
ancient inhabitants, and as places to which they retreated in time
of danger. There is (p.84 of the R. I. A. TRANSACTIONS for 1789) a
particular account of a number of these artificial caves at the west
end of the church of Killossy, in the county of Kildare. Under a rising
ground, in a dry sandy soil, these subterraneous dwellings were found:
they have pediment roofs, and they communicate with each other by small
apertures. In the Brehon laws these are mentioned, and there are fines
inflicted by those laws upon persons who steal from the subterraneous
granaries. All these things show that there was a real foundation for
the stories which were told of the appearance of lights, and of the
sounds of voices, near these places. The persons who had property
concealed there, very willingly countenanced every wonderful relation
that tended to make these places objects of sacred awe or superstitious
terror.
[12] WEED ASHES.--By ancient usage in Ireland, all the weeds on a farm
belonged to the farmer’s wife, or to the wife of the squire who holds
the ground in his own hands. The great demand for alkaline salts in
bleaching rendered these ashes no inconsiderable perquisite.
[13] SEALING MONEY.--Formerly it was the custom in Ireland for tenants
to give the squire’s lady from two to fifty guineas as a perquisite
upon the sealing of their leases. The Editor not very long since knew
of a baronet’s lady accepting fifty guineas as sealing money, upon
closing a bargain for a considerable farm.
[14] SIR MURTAGH GREW MAD--Sir Murtagh grew angry.
[15] THE WHOLE KITCHEN WAS OUT ON THE STAIRS--means that all the
inhabitants of the kitchen came out of the kitchen, and stood upon the
stairs. These, and similar expressions, show how much the Irish are
disposed to metaphor and amplification.
[16] FINING DOWN THE YEAR’S RENT.--When an Irish gentleman, like Sir
Kit Rackrent, has lived beyond his income, and finds himself distressed
for ready money, tenants obligingly offer to take his land at a rent
far below the value, and to pay him a small sum of money in hand, which
they call fining down the yearly rent. The temptation of this ready
cash often blinds the landlord to his future interest.
[17] DRIVER.--A man who is employed to drive tenants for rent; that is,
to drive the cattle belonging to tenants to pound. The office of driver
is by no means a sinecure.
[18] I THOUGHT TO MAKE HIM A PRIEST.--It was customary amongst those of Thady’s
rank in Ireland, whenever they could get a little money, to send their sons
abroad to St. Omer’s, or to Spain, to be educated as priests. Now they are
educated at Maynooth. The Editor has lately known a young lad, who began by
being a post-boy, afterwards turn into a carpenter, then quit his plane and
work-bench to study his HUMANITIES, as he said, at the college of Maynooth; but
after he had gone through his course of Humanities, he determined to be a
soldier instead of a priest.
[19] FLAM.--Short for flambeau.
[20] BARRACK-ROOM.--Formerly it was customary, in gentlemen’s houses in
Ireland, to fit up one large bedchamber with a number of beds for the
reception of occasional visitors. These rooms were called
Barrack-rooms.
[21] AN INNOCENT--in Ireland, means a simpleton, an idiot.
[22] THE CURRAGH--is the Newmarket of Ireland.
[23] THE CANT--The auction.
[24]AND SO SHOULD CUT HIM OFF FOR EVER BY LEVYING A FINE, AND SUFFERING
A RECOVERY TO DOCK THE ENTAIL.--The English reader may perhaps be
surprised at the extent of Thady’s legal knowledge, and at the fluency
with which he pours forth law-terms; but almost every poor man in
Ireland, be he farmer, weaver, shopkeeper, ox steward, is, besides his
other occupations, occasionally a lawyer. The nature of processes,
ejectments, custodiams, injunctions, replevins, etc., is perfectly
known to them, and the terms as familiar to them as to any attorney.
They all love law. It is a kind of lottery, in which every man, staking
his own wit or cunning against his neighbour’s property, feels that he
has little to lose, and much to gain.
‘I’ll have the law of you, so I will!’ is the saying of an Englishman
who expects justice. ‘I’ll have you before his honour,’ is the threat of
an Irishman who hopes for partiality. Miserable is the life of a justice
of the peace in Ireland the day after a fair, especially if he resides
near a small town. The multitude of the KILT (KILT does not mean KILLED,
but hurt) and wounded who come before his honour with black eyes or
bloody heads is astonishing: but more astonishing is the number of those
who, though they are scarcely able by daily labour to procure daily
food, will nevertheless, without the least reluctance, waste six or
seven hours of the day lounging in the yard or court of a justice of the
peace, waiting to make some complaint about--nothing. It is impossible
to convince them that TIME IS MONEY. They do not set any value upon
their own time, and they think that others estimate theirs at less than
nothing. Hence they make no scruple of telling a justice of the peace
a story of an hour long about a tester (sixpence); and if he grows
impatient, they attribute it to some secret prejudice which he
entertains against them.
Their method is to get a story completely by heart, and to tell it, as
they call it, OUT OF THE FACE, that is, from the beginning to the end,
without interruption.
‘Well, my good friend, I have seen you lounging about these three hours
in the yard; what is your business?’
‘Please your honour, it is what I want to speak one word to your
honour.’
‘Speak then, but be quick. What is the matter?’
‘The matter, please your honour, is nothing at-all-at-all, only just
about the grazing of a horse, please your honour, that this man here
sold me at the fair of Gurtishannon last Shrove fair, which lay down
three times with myself, please your honour, and KILT me; not to be
telling your honour of how, no later back than yesterday night, he lay
down in the house there within, and all the childer standing round, and
it was God’s mercy he did not fall a-top of them, or into the fire to
burn himself. So please your honour, to-day I took him back to this man,
which owned him, and after a great deal to do, I got the mare again I
SWOPPED (EXCHANGED) him for; but he won’t pay the grazing of the horse
for the time I had him, though he promised to pay the grazing in case
the horse didn’t answer; and he never did a day’s work, good or bad,
please your honour, all the time he was with me, and I had the doctor to
him five times anyhow. And so, please your honour, it is what I expect
your honour will stand my friend, for I’d sooner come to your honour
for justice than to any other in all Ireland. And so I brought him here
before your honour, and expect your honour will make him pay me the
grazing, or tell me, can I process him for it at the next assizes,
please your honour?’
The defendant now turning a quid of tobacco with his tongue into some
secret cavern in his mouth, begins his defence with--
‘Please your honour, under favour, and saving your honour’s presence,
there’s not a word of truth in all this man has been saying from
beginning to end, upon my conscience, and I wouldn’t for the value of
the horse itself, grazing and all, be after telling your honour a lie.
For, please your honour, I have a dependence upon your honour that
you’ll do me justice, and not be listening to him or the like of him.
Please your honour, it’s what he has brought me before your honour,
because he had a spite against me about some oats I sold your honour,
which he was jealous of, and a shawl his wife got at my shister’s shop
there without, and never paid for; so I offered to set the shawl against
the grazing, and give him a receipt in full of all demands, but he
wouldn’t out of spite, please your honour; so he brought me before your
honour, expecting your honour was mad with me for cutting down the
tree in the horse park, which was none of my doing, please your
honour--ill-luck to them that went and belied me to your honour behind
my back! So if your honour is pleasing, I’ll tell you the whole truth
about the horse that he swopped against my mare out of the face. Last
Shrove fair I met this man, Jemmy Duffy, please your honour, just at the
corner of the road, where the bridge is broken down, that your honour is
to have the presentment for this year--long life to you for it! And he
was at that time coming from the fair of Gurtishannon, and I the same
way. “How are you, Jemmy?” says I. “Very well, I thank ye kindly,
Bryan,” says he; “shall we turn back to Paddy Salmon’s and take a naggin
of whisky to our better acquaintance?” “I don’t care if I did, Jemmy,”
says I; “only it is what I can’t take the whisky, because I’m under an
oath against it for a month.” Ever since, please your honour, the day
your honour met me on the road, and observed to me I could hardly stand,
I had taken so much; though upon my conscience your honour wronged me
greatly that same time--ill-luck to them that belied me behind my back
to your honour! Well, please your honour, as I was telling you, as he
was taking the whisky, and we talking of one thing or t’other, he
makes me an offer to swop his mare that he couldn’t sell at the fair of
Gurtishannon, because nobody would be troubled with the beast, please
your honour, against my horse, and to oblige him I took the mare--sorrow
take her! and him along with her! She kicked me a new car, that was
worth three pounds ten, to tatters the first time I ever put her into
it, and I expect your honour will make him pay me the price of the
car, anyhow, before I pay the grazing, which I’ve no right to pay
at-all-at-all, only to oblige him. But I leave it all to your honour;
and the whole grazing he ought to be charging for the beast is but two
and eightpence halfpenny, anyhow, please your honour. So I’ll abide by
what your honour says, good or bad. I’ll leave it all to your honour.
I’ll leave IT all to your honour--literally means, I’ll leave all the
trouble to your honour.
The Editor knew a justice of the peace in Ireland who had such a
dread of HAVING IT ALL LEFT TO HIS HONOUR, that he frequently gave the
complainants the sum about which they were disputing, to make peace
between them, and to get rid of the trouble of hearing their stories
OUT OF THE FACE. But he was soon cured of this method of buying off
disputes, by the increasing multitude of those who, out of pure regard
to his honour, came ‘to get justice from him, because they would sooner
come before him than before any man in all Ireland.’
[25] A RAKING POT OF TEA.--We should observe, this custom has long
since been banished from the higher orders of Irish gentry. The
mysteries of a raking pot of tea, like those of the Bona Dea, are
supposed to be sacred to females; but now and then it has happened that
some of the male species, who were either more audacious, or more
highly favoured than the rest of their sex, have been admitted by
stealth to these orgies. The time when the festive ceremony begins
varies according to circumstances, but it is never earlier than twelve
o’clock at night; the joys of a raking pot of tea depending on its
being made in secret, and at an unseasonable hour. After a ball, when
the more discreet part of the company has departed to rest, a few
chosen female spirits, who have footed it till they can foot it no
longer, and till the sleepy notes expire under the slurring hand of the
musician, retire to a bedchamber, call the favourite maid, who alone is
admitted, bid her PUT DOWN THE KETTLE, lock the door, and amidst as
much giggling and scrambling as possible, they get round a tea-table,
on which all manner of things are huddled together. Then begin mutual
railleries and mutual confidences amongst the young ladies, and the
faint scream and the loud laugh is heard, and the romping for letters
and pocket-books begins, and gentlemen are called by their surnames, or
by the general name of fellows! pleasant fellows! charming fellows!
odious fellows! abominable fellows! and then all prudish decorums are
forgotten, and then we might be convinced how much the satirical poet
was mistaken when he said--
There is no woman where there’s no reserve.
The merit of the original idea of a raking pot of tea evidently belongs
to the washerwoman and the laundry-maid. But why should not we have LOW
LIFE ABOVE STAIRS as well as HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS?
[26] WE GAINED THE DAY BY THIS PIECE OF HONESTY.--In a dispute which
occurred some years ago in Ireland, between Mr. E. and Mr. M., about
the boundaries of a farm, an old tenant of Mr. M.’s cut a SOD from Mr.
M.’s land, and inserted it in a spot prepared for its reception in Mr.
E.’s land; so nicely was it inserted, that no eye could detect the
junction of the grass. The old man, who was to give his evidence as to
the property, stood upon the inserted sod when the VIEWERS came, and
swore that the ground he THEN STOOD UPON belonged to his landlord, Mr.
M.
The Editor had flattered himself that the ingenious contrivance which
Thady records, and the similar subterfuge of this old Irishman, in the
dispute concerning boundaries, were instances of ’CUTENESS unparalleled
in all but Irish story: an English friend, however, has just mortified
the Editor’s national vanity by an account of the following custom,
which prevails in part of Shropshire. It is discreditable for women
to appear abroad after the birth of their children till they have been
CHURCHED. To avoid this reproach, and at the same time to enjoy the
pleasure of gadding, whenever a woman goes abroad before she has been
to church, she takes a tile from the roof of her house, and puts it upon
her head: wearing this panoply all the time she pays her visits, her
conscience is perfectly at ease; for she can afterwards safely declare
to the clergyman, that she ‘has never been from under her own roof till
she came to be churched.’
[27] CARTON AND HALF-CARTON,--Thady means cartron, and half-cartron.
According to the old record in the black book of Dublin, a CANTRED is
said to contain 30 VILLATAS TERRAS, which are also called QUARTERS of
land (quarterons, CARTRONS); every one of which quarters must contain
so much ground as will pasture 400 cows, and 17 plough-lands. A
knight’s fee was composed of 8 hydes, which amount to 160 acres, and
that is generally deemed about a PLOUGH- LAND.’
The Editor was favoured by a learned friend with the above extract, from
a MS. of Lord Totness’s in the Lambeth library.
[28] WAKE.--A wake in England means a festival held upon the
anniversary of the saint of the parish. At these wakes, rustic games,
rustic conviviality, and rustic courtship, are pursued with all the
ardour and all the appetite which accompany such pleasures as occur but
seldom. In Ireland a wake is a midnight meeting, held professedly for
the indulgence of holy sorrow, but usually it is converted into orgies
of unholy joy. When an Irish man or woman of the lower order dies, the
straw which composed the bed, whether it has been contained in a bag to
form a mattress, or simply spread upon the earthen floor, is
immediately taken out of the house, and burned before the cabin door,
the family at the same time setting up the death howl. The ears and
eyes of the neighbours being thus alarmed, they flock to the house of
the deceased, and by their vociferous sympathy excite and at the same
time soothe the sorrows of the family.
It is curious to observe how good and bad are mingled in human
institutions. In countries which were thinly inhabited, this custom
prevented private attempts against the lives of individuals, and formed
a kind of coroner’s inquest upon the body which had recently expired,
and burning the straw upon which the sick man lay became a simple
preservative against infection. At night the dead body is waked, that is
to say, all the friends and neighbours of the deceased collect in a barn
or stable, where the corpse is laid upon some boards, or an unhinged
door, supported upon stools, the face exposed, the rest of the
body covered with a white sheet. Round the body are stuck in brass
candlesticks, which have been borrowed perhaps at five miles’ distance,
as many candles as the poor person can beg or borrow, observing always
to have an odd number. Pipes and tobacco are first distributed, and
then, according to the ABILITY of the deceased, cakes and ale, and
sometimes whisky, are DEALT to the company--
Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,
Deal on your cakes and your wine,
For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day
Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine.
After a fit of universal sorrow, and the comfort of a universal dram,
the scandal of the neighbourhood, as in higher circles, occupies the
company. The young lads and lasses romp with one another, and when the
fathers and mothers are at last overcome with sleep and whisky (VINO
ET SOMNO), the youth become more enterprising, and are frequently
successful. It is said that more matches are made at wakes than at
weddings.
[29] KILT.--This word frequently occurs in the preceding pages, where
it means not KILLED, but much HURT. In Ireland, not only cowards, but
the brave ‘die many times before their death.’--There KILLING IS NO
MURDER.