Jack Hinton Part 22

'More's the pity,' said I, interrupting.

'You're right,' said he, with a slight pinch of my arm, 'whether you are joking or not.'

The dinner was not a very appetising one, nor indeed the company over seductive, so that I disappeared with the cloth, glad to find myself once more in the open air, with the deck to myself; for my fellow-travellers had, one and all, begun a very vigorous attack upon sundry jugs of hot water and crucibles full of whisky, the fumes of which, added to the heat, the smoke, and other disagreeables, made me right happy to escape.

As the evening wore late, the noise and uproar grew louder and more vociferous, and, had not frequent bursts of laughter proclaimed the spirit of the conviviality, I should have been tempted to believe the party were engaged in deadly strife. Sometimes a single narrator would seem to hold the company in attentive silence; then a general chorus of the whole would break in, with shouts of merriment, knocking of knuckles on the table, stamping of feet, and other signs of approbation and applause. As this had now continued for some time, and it was already verging towards midnight, I began to grow impatient; for as sleep stole over my eyelids, I was desirous of some little quiet, to indulge myself in a nap. Blessings on my innocent delusion! the gentlemen below-stairs had as much notion of swimming as sleeping. Of this a rapid glance through a little window, at the extremity of the cabin, soon satisfied me. As well as the steamed and heated gla.s.s would permit my seeing, the scene was a strange one.

About forty persons were seated around a narrow table, so closely packed that any att.i.tude but the bolt upright was impracticable. There they were, of every age and s.e.x; some asleep with Welsh wigs and red pocket-handkerchiefs screening their heads from cold, and their ears as well as might be from uproar; some were endeavouring to read by the light of mutton candles, with wicks like a light infantry feather, with a n.o.b at the head; others, with their heads bent down together, were confidentially exchanging the secrets of the last market; while here and there were scattered about little convivial knots of jolly souls, whose noisy fun and loud laughter indicated but slight respect for their drowsy neighbours.

The group, however, which attracted most of my attention was one near the fire at the end. This consisted of his reverence Father Tom, a stout, burly-looking old farmer opposite him, the austere lady from Loughrea, and a little dried-up, potted-herring of a man, who, with a light-brown coat and standing collar, sat up perpendicularly on his seat and looked about him with an eye as lively and an accent as sharp as though it were only noonday. This little personage, who came from that Irish Pennsylvania called Moate, was endeavouring to maintain a controversy with the worthy priest, who, in addition to his polemics, was deep in a game of spoiled five with the farmer, and carrying on besides another species of warfare with his fair neighbour. The diversity of all these occupations might possibly have been overmuch for him, were it not for the aid of a suspicious-looking little kettle that sat hissing and rocking on the hob, with a look of pert satisfaction that convinced me its contents were something stronger than water.

Perceiving a small s.p.a.ce yet unoccupied in the party, I made my way thither by the stair near it, and soon had the satisfaction to find myself safely installed, without attracting any other notice from the party than a proud stare from the lady, as she removed a little farther from beside the priest.

As to his reverence, far too deeply interested in his immediate pursuits to pay any attention to me, he had quite enough on his hands with his three antagonists, none of whom did he ever for a moment permit to edge in even a word. Conducting his varied warfare with the skill of a general, who made the artillery, the infantry, and the cavalry of mutual aid and a.s.sistance to one another, he continued to keep the church, the courts.h.i.+p, and the cards all moving together, in a manner perfectly miraculous--the vehemence with which he thumped down a trump upon the table serving as a point in his argument, while the energy of the action permitted a squeeze of the lady's hand with the other.

'There ye go, six of spades! Play a spade, av ye have one, Mr.

Larkins---- For a set of shrivelled-up craytures, with nothing but thee and thou for a creed to deny the real ould ancient faith, that Saint Peter and---- The ace of diamonds! _that_ tickled you under the short ribs----- Not you, Mrs. Carney; for a sore time you have of it, and an angel of a woman ye are; and the husband that could be cruel to you, and take---- The odd trick out of you, Mr. Larkins----

No, no, I deny it--_nego in omnibus, Domine_. What does Origen say? The rock, says he, is Peter; and if you translate the pa.s.sage without---- Another kettleful, if you please. I go for the ten, Misther Larkins.

Trumps! another--another--hurroo! By the tower of Clonmacnoise, I'll beggar the bank to-night. _Malhereux au jeux, heureux en amour_, as we used to say formerly. G.o.d forgive us!'

Whether it was the French, or the look that accompanied it, I cannot aver, but certainly the lady blushed and looked down. In vain did the poor Quaker essay a word of explanation. In vain did Mrs. Carney herself try to escape from the awkward inferences some of his allusions seemed to lead to. Even the old farmer saw his tricks confiscated, and his games estreated, without a chance of recovery; for, like Coeur de Lion with his iron mace, the good priest laid about him, smas.h.i.+ng, slaying, and upsetting all before him, and never giving his adversaries a moment to recover from one blow, ere he dealt another at their heads.

'To be sure, Mrs. Carney, and why not? It's as mild as mother's milk.

Come, ould square-toes, take a thimbleful of it, and maybe it'll lead you to a better understanding. I play the five fingers, Mr. Larkins.

There goes Jack, my jewel! Play to that--the trick is mine. Don't be laughing; I've a bit of fat in the heel of my fist for you yet. There now, what are you looking at? Don't you see the cards? Troth, you 're as bad as the Quaker; you won't believe your own eyes---- And ye see, ma'am'--here he whispered something in the lady's ear for a few seconds, adding as he concluded--'and thim, Mrs. Carney, thim's the rights of the Church. Friends, indeed! ye call yourselves friends! Faix, ye're the least social friends I ever forgathered with, even if the bare look of you wasn't an antidote to all kinds of amus.e.m.e.nts---- Cut, Mr.

Larkins---- And it's purgatory ye don't like? Ye know what Father O'Leary said, "Some of ye may go farther and fare worse," not to speak of what a place heaven would be, with the likes of you in it---- Av it was Mrs. Carney, indeed. Yes, Mary, your own beautiful self, that's fit to be an angel any day, and discoorse with angels---- Howld, av you please, I've a club for that---- Don't you see what nonsense you're talking--the little kettle is laughing at you---- What's that you 're mumbling about my time of life? Show me the man that'll carry twelve tumblers with me; show me the man that'll cross a country; show me the man that 'll---- Never mind, Mrs. Carney---- Time of life, indeed! Faix, I'll give you a song.'

With these words, the priest pushed the cards aside, replenished the gla.s.ses, and began the following melody to an air much resembling 'Sir Roger de Coverley':--

'To-morrow I 'll just be three-score; May never worse fortune betide me Than to have a hot tumbler before, And a beautiful crayture beside me!

If this world 's a stage, as they say, And that men are the actors, I 'm certain, In the after-piece I 'd like to play, And be there at the fall of the curtain.

Whack! fol lol.

'No, no, Mrs. Carney, I'll take the vestment on it, nothing of the kind--the allusion is most discreet; but there is more.

'For the pleasures of youth are a flam; To try them again, pray excuse me; I 'd rather be priest that I am, With the rights of the Church to amuse me.

Sure, there's naught like a jolly old age, And the patriarchs knew this, it said is; For though they looked sober and sage, 'Faith, they had their own fun with the ladies!

Whack! fol lol.

'Come now, Captain, you are a man that knows his humanities; 'I be judged by you.'

'I protest,' said I laughingly, 'I'd rather p.r.o.nounce on your punch than your polemics.'

'No, would you though?' said the priest, with a joyous twinkle in his eye, that showed which controversy had more attraction for him. 'Faix, then, you shall have a fair trial. Beach me that gla.s.s, Mr. Larkins; and if it isn't sweet enough, maybe Mrs. Carney would stir it for you with her finger. There, now, we'll be comfortable and social, and have no more bother about creeds, nor councils; for although it is only child's play for me to demolish a hundred like you, I'd rather be merciful, and leave you, like Alexander the coppersmith, to get the reward of your works.'

Whether it was the polite attention bestowed upon me by his reverence, or that the magical word 'Captain,' so generic for all things military in Ireland, had its effect, or that any purely personal reasons were the cause, I cannot aver; but, certainly, Mrs. Carney's manner became wonderfully softened. She smiled at me slyly when the priest wasn't looking, and vouchsafed an inquiry as to whether I had ever served in the Roscommon yeomanry.

The kettle once more sent forth its fragrant steam, the gla.s.ses were filled, the vanquished Quaker had extinguished both himself and his argument beneath his broad beaver; and Father Tom, with a glance of pleasure at the party, p.r.o.nounced our arrangements perfect, and suggested a round game, by way of pa.s.sing the time.

'We are now,' said he, 'on the long level for eighteen miles; there's neither a lock nor a town to disturb us. Give Mrs. Carney the cards.'

The proposition was met with hearty approval; and thus did I, Lieutenant Hinton, of the Grenadier Guards, extra aide-de-camp to the viceroy, discover myself at four in the morning engaged at a game of loo, whose pecuniary limits were fourpence, but whose boundaries as to joke and broad humour were wide as the great Atlantic. Day broke, and I found myself richer by some tumblers of the very strongest whisky punch, a confounded headache, and two-and-eightpence in bad copper jingling in my pocket.

CHAPTER XX. SHANNON HARBOUR

Little does he know who voyages in a ca.n.a.l-boat, dragged along some three miles and a half per hour, ignominiously at the tails of two ambling hackneys, what pride, pomp, and circ.u.mstance await him at the first town he enters. Seated on the deck, watching with a Dutchman's apathy the sedgy banks, whose tall naggers bow their heads beneath the ripple that eddies from the bow--now lifting his eyes from earth to sky, with nothing to interest, nothing to attract him, turning from the gaze of the long dreary tract of bog and moorland, to look upon his fellow-travellers, whose features are perhaps neither more striking nor more pleasing--the monotonous jog of the postillion before, the impa.s.sive placidity of the helmsman behind; the lazy smoke that seems to lack energy to issue from the little chimney; the brown and leaden look of all around--have something dreamy and sleep-compelling, almost impossible to resist. And, already, as the voyager droops his head, and lets fall his eyelids, a confused and misty sense of some everlasting journey, toilsome, tedious, and slow, creeps over his besotted faculties; when suddenly the loud bray of the horn breaks upon his ears--the sound is re-echoed from a distance--the far-off tinkle of a bell is borne along the water, and he sees before him, as if conjured up by some magician's wand, the roofs and chimneys of a little village.

Meanwhile the excitement about him increases: the deck is lumbered with hampers and boxes, and parcels--the note of departure to many a cloaked and frieze-coated pa.s.senger has rung; for, strange as it may seem, in that little a.s.semblage of mud hovels, with their dunghills and duck-pools around them, with its one-slated house and its square chapel, there are people who live there; and, stranger still, some of those who have left it, and seen other places, are going back there again, to drag on life as before. But the plot is thickening: the large bra.s.s bell at the stern of the boat is thundering away with its clanging sound; the banks are crowded with people; and as if to favour the melodramatic magic of the scene, the track-rope is cast off, the weary posters trot away towards their stable, and the stately barge floats on to its destined haven without the aid of any visible influence. He who watches the look of proud, important bearing that beams upon 'the captain's'

face at a moment like this, may philosophise upon the charms of that power which man wields above his fellow-men. Such, at least, were some of my reflections; and I could not help muttering to myself, if a man like this feel pride of station, what a glorious service must be the navy!

Watching with interest _the_ nautical skill with which, having fastened a rope to the stern, the boat was swung round, with her head in the direction from whence she came, intimating thereby the monotonous character of her avocations, I did not perceive that one by one the pa.s.sengers were taking their departure.

'Good-bye, Captain,' cried Father Tom, as he extended his ample hand to me; 'we'll meet again in Loughrea. I'm going on Mrs. Carney's car, or I'd be delighted to join you in a conveyance; but you'll easily get one at the hotel.'

I had barely time to thank the good father for his kind advice, when I perceived him adjusting various duodecimo Carneys in the well of the car, and then having carefully included himself in the frieze coat that wrapped Mrs. Carney, he gave the word to drive on.

As the day following was the time appointed for naming the horses and the riders, I had no reason for haste. Loughrea, from what I had heard, was a commonplace country town, in which, as in all similar places every new-comer was canva.s.sed with a prying and searching curiosity. I resolved, therefore, to stop where I was; not, indeed, that the scenery possessed any attractions. A prospect more bleak, more desolate, and more barren, it would be impossible to' conceive--a wide river with low and reedy banks, moving sluggishly on its yellow current, between broad tracts of bog or callow meadow-land; no trace of cultivation, not even a tree was to be seen.

Such is Shannon Harbour. No matter, thought I, the hotel at least looks well. This consolatory reflection of mine was elicited by the prospect of a large stone building of some storeys high, whose granite portico and wide steps stood in strange contrast to the miserable mud hovels that flanked it on either side. It was a strange thought to have placed such a building in such a situation. I dismissed the ungrateful notion, as I remembered my own position, and how happy I felt to accept its hospitality.

A solitary jaunting-car stood on the ca.n.a.l side--the poorest specimen of its cla.s.s I had ever seen. The car--a few boards cobbled up by some country carpenter--seemed to threaten disunion even with the coughing of the wretched beast that wheezed between its shafts; while the driver, an emaciated creature of any age from sixteen to sixty, sat s.h.i.+vering upon the seat, striking from time to time with his whip at the flies that played about the animal's ears, as though antic.i.p.ating their prey.

'Banagher, yer honour? Loughrea, sir? Bowl ye over in an hour and a half. Is it Portumna, sir?'

'No, my good friend,' replied I, 'I stop at the hotel.'

Had I proposed to take a sail down the Shannon on my portmanteau, I don't think the astonishment could have been greater. The bystanders, and they were numerous enough by this time, looked from one to the other with expressions of mingled surprise and dread; and indeed had I, like some st.u.r.dy knight-errant of old, announced my determination to pa.s.s the night in a haunted chamber, more unequivocal evidences of their admiration and fear could not have been evoked.

'In the hotel!' said one.

'He is going to stop at the hotel!' cried another.

'Blessed hour!' said a third, 'wonders will never cease!'

Short as had been my residence in Ireland, it had at least taught me one lesson--never to be surprised at anything I met with. So many views of life peculiar to the land met me at every turn, so many strange prejudices, so many singular notions, that were I to apply my previous knowledge of the world, such as it was, to my guidance here, I should be like a man endeavouring to sound the depths of the sea with an instrument intended to ascertain the distance of a star. Leaving, therefore, to time the explanation of the mysterious astonishment around me, I gathered together my baggage, and left the boat.

The first impressions of a traveller are not uncommonly his best. The finer and more distinctive features of a land require deep study and long acquaintance, but the broader traits of nationality are caught in an instant, or not caught at all Familiarity destroys them, and it is only at first blush that we learn to appreciate them with force. Who that has landed at Calais, at Rotterdam, or at Leghorn, has not felt this? The Flemish peasant, with her long-eared cap and heavy sabots--the dark Italian, basking his swarthy features in the sun, are striking objects when we first look on them; but days and weeks roll on, the wider characteristics of human nature swallow up the smaller and more narrow features of nationality, and in a short time we forget that the things which have surprised us at first are not what we have been used to from our infancy.

Gifted with but slender powers of observation, such as they were, this was to me always a moment of their exercise. How often in the rural districts of my own country had the air of cheery comfort and healthy contentment spoken to my heart; how frequently, in the manufacturing ones, had the din of hammers, the black smoke, or the lurid flame of furnaces, turned my thoughts to those great sources of our national wealth, and made me look on every dark and swarthy face that pa.s.sed as on one who ministered to his country's weal! But now I was to view a new and very different scene. Scarcely had I put foot on sh.o.r.e when the whole population of the village thronged around me. What are these, thought I? What art do they practise? what trade do they profess? Alas!

their wan looks, their tattered garments, their outstretched hands, and imploring voices, gave the answer--they were all beggars! It was not as if the old, the decrepit, the sickly, or the feeble, had fallen on the charity of their fellow-men in their hour of need; but here were all--all--the old man and the infant, the husband and the wife, the aged grandfather and the tottering grandchild, the white locks of youth, the whiter hairs of age--pale, pallid, and sickly--trembling between starvation and suspense, watching with the hectic eye of fever every gesture of him on whom their momentary hope was fixed; canva.s.sing, in muttered tones, every step of his proceeding, and hazarding a doubt upon its bearing oh their own fate.

'Oh, the heavens be your bed, n.o.ble gentleman! look at me! The Lord reward you for the little sixpence that you have in your fingers there!

I 'm the mother of ten of them.'

'Billy Cronin, yer honour; I'm dark since I was nine years old.'