PATRICIANS AND PLEBEIANS.

The three classes of gentlemen in Ireland described—Irish poets—Mr. Thomas Flinter and D. Henesey—The bard—Peculiarities of the peasants—Their ludicrous misinformation as to distances accounted for—Civility of a waiter—Equivocation of the peasants, and their misdirection of travellers to different places.

I will now proceed to lay before the reader a brief but more general sketch of the state of Irish society at the period of my youth, reminding him of the principle which I have before assumed; namely, that of considering anecdotes, bon-mots, and the like, valuable only as they tend to exemplify interesting facts relative to history or manners: many such I have inserted in these fragments; and as I have been careful throughout to avoid mere inventions, my reader need not, by any means, reserve their perusal for the study of his travelling carriage.

Miss Edgeworth, in her admirable sketch ofCastle Rackrent, gives a tolerably faithful picture of the Irish character under the combination of circumstances which she has selected; and theaccount that I am about to give may serve as an elucidation of the habits and manners of Irish country society about the period Miss Edgeworth alludes to, and somewhat later—with which she could not be so well acquainted.

In those days, the common people ideally separated the gentry of the country into three classes, and treated each class according to the relative degree of respect to which they considered it entitled.

They generally divided them thus:

1.Half-mountedgentlemen.

2. Gentlemenevery inch of them.

3. Gentlemento the back-bone.

The first-named class formed the only species of independent yeomanry then existing in Ireland. They were the descendants of the small grantees of Queen Elizabeth, Cromwell, and King William III. by their confiscations; possessed about 200 or 300 acres of land each, in fee, from the Crown;[32]and were occasionally admitted into the society of better gentlemen—particularly hunters—living at other times amongst each other, with an intermixture of their own servants, with whom theywere always on terms of intimacy. They generally had good clever horses, which could leap over any thing, but seldom felt the trimming-scissors or currycomb, unless they belonged tojockeygentlemen. The riders commonly wore buck-skin breeches, and boots well greased, (blacking was never used in the country,) and carried large thong whips heavily loaded with lead at the butt-end, so that they were always prepared either to horsewhip a man or knock his brains out, as circumstances might dictate. These half-mounted gentlemen exercised hereditarily the authority of keeping the ground clear at horse-races, hurlings, and all public meetings (as soldiers keep the lines at a review). Their business was to ride round the inside of the ground, which they generally did with becoming spirit, trampling over some, knocking down others, and slashing every body who encroached on the proper limits. Bones being but veryseldombroken, and skulls still seldomer fractured, every body approved of their exertions, because all the by-standers gained thereby a full view of the sport which was going forward. A shout of merriment was always set up when a half-mounted gentleman knocked down an interloper; and some of thepoetspresent, if they had an opportunity, roared out their verses[33]by way of a song to encourage the gentlemen.

32.Their ancestors had mostly been troopers in the English armies, and were mingled amongst the Irish tomend the breed. They however soon imbibed the peculiarities of the Irish character with an increased ability to procure all its gratifications. In country sports they were quite pre-eminent, except a few who took exclusively to farming and drinking.

33.I recollect an example of those good-humoured madrigals. A poet, called Daniel Bran, sang a stanza aloud, as he himself lay sprawling on the grass, after having been knocked down with a loaded whip, and ridden over, by old Squire Flood, who showed no mercy in the “execution of hisduty.”“There was Despard so brave, (a soldier)And that son of the wave, (a sailor)And Tom Conway, the pride of the bower; (a farmer)But noble Squire FloodSwore, G—d d—n his blood!But he’d drown them all in the Delower.”

“There was Despard so brave, (a soldier)And that son of the wave, (a sailor)And Tom Conway, the pride of the bower; (a farmer)But noble Squire FloodSwore, G—d d—n his blood!But he’d drown them all in the Delower.”

“There was Despard so brave, (a soldier)

And that son of the wave, (a sailor)

And Tom Conway, the pride of the bower; (a farmer)

But noble Squire Flood

Swore, G—d d—n his blood!

But he’d drown them all in the Delower.”

The second class, or gentlemenevery inch of them, were of excellent old families;—whose finances were not in so good order as they might have been, but who were not the less popular amongst all ranks. They were far above the first degree, somewhat inferior to the third; but had great influence; were much beloved, and carried more sway at popular elections and general county meetings than the other two classes put together.

The third class, or gentlemento the back-bone, were of the oldest families and settlers, universally respected, and idolised by the peasantry, although they also were generally a little out at elbows. Their word was law; their nod would have immediately collected an army of cottagers, or colliers, or whatever the population was composed of. Men, women, and children, were always ready and willing to execute any thing “the squire” required, without the slightest consideration as toeither its danger or propriety. The grand juries were selected from the two last classes.[34]

34.These distinct classes have for some years been gradually losing their characteristic sharp points, and are now wearing fast away. The third class have mostly emigrated, and, like thewolf-dogs, will soon be extinct.

A curious circumstance perhaps rendered my family peculiarly popular. The common people had conceived the notion that the lord of Cullenaghmore had a right to save a man’s life every summer assizes at Maryborough; and it did frequently so happen, within my recollection, that my father’s intercession in favour of some poor deluded creatures (when the White Boy system was in activity) was kindly attended to by the government; and, certainly, besides this number, many others of his tenants owed their lives to similar interference. But it was wise in the government to accede to such representations; since their concession never failed to create such an influence in my father’s person over the tenantry, that he was enabled to preserve them in perfect tranquillity, whilst those surrounding were in a constant state of insubordination to all law whatever. Hanging the Irish will never either reform their morals, or thin their population.

I recollect a Mr. Tom Flinter, of Timahoe, one of the first-class gentlemen, who had speculated in cows and sheep, and every thing he could buy up, till his establishment was reduced to one bluntfaithful fellow, Dick Henesey, who stuck to him throughout all his vicissitudes. Flinter had once on a time got a trifle of money, which was burning in his greasy pocket, and he wanted to expend it at a neighbouring fair! where his whole history, as well as the history of every man of his half-mounted contemporaries, was told in a few verses,[35]by a fellow called Ned the dog-stealer, but who was also agreat poet, and resided in the neighbourhood:—he was remarkably expert at both his trades.

35.These lines were considered as a standing joke for many years in that part of the country, and ran as follows:Dialogue between Tom Flinter and his man.Tom Flinter.Dick!said he;Dick Henesey.What?said he;Tom Flinter.Fetch me my hat:says he;For I will go,says he;To Timahoe,says he;To buy the fair,says he;And all that’s there,says he.Dick Henesey.Arrah!pay what you owe!said he;Andthenyou may go,says he;To Timahoe,says he;To buy the fair,says he;And all that’s there,says he.Tom Flinter.Well! by this and by that!said he;Dick! Here,hang up my hat!said he.

35.These lines were considered as a standing joke for many years in that part of the country, and ran as follows:

Dialogue between Tom Flinter and his man.

In travelling through Ireland, a stranger is very frequently puzzled by the singular ways, and especially by the idiomatic equivocation, characteristicof every Irish peasant. Some years back, more particularly, these men were certainly originals—quite unlike any other people whatever. Many an hour of curious entertainment has been afforded me by their eccentricities; yet, though always fond of prying into the remote sources of these national peculiarities, I must frankly confess that, with all my pains, I never was able to develop half of them, except by one sweeping observation; namely, that the brains and tongues of the Irish are somehow differently formed or furnished from those of other people. Phrenology may be a very good science; but the heads of the Irish would puzzle the very best of its professors. Very few of those belonging to the peasantry, indeed, leave the world in the same shape they came into it. After twenty years of age, theshillelahquite alters the natural formation, and leaves so many hills and hollows upon their skulls, that theorganoffightingis the only one discoverable to any certainty.

One general hint which I beg to impress upon all travellers in Hibernia, is this: that if they show a disposition toward kindness, together with a moderate familiarity, andaffectto beinquisitive, whether so or not, the Irish peasant will outdo them tenfold in every one of these dispositions. But if a man is haughty and overbearing, he had better take care of himself.

I have often heard it remarked and complainedof by travellers and strangers, that they never could, when on a journey, get a true answer from any Irish peasant as todistances. For many years I myself thought it most unaccountable. If you meet a peasant on your road, and ask him how far, for instance, to Ballinrobe, he will probably say it is, “three shortmiles!” You travel on, and are informed by the next peasant you meet, “that it isfive longmiles!” On you go, and the next will tell “your honour” it is “a longmile, or about that same!” The fourth will swear “if your honour stops atthreemiles, you’ll never get there!” But, on pointing to a town just before you, and inquiring what place that is, he replies,

“Oh! plaze your honour, that’s Ballinrobe, sure enough!”

“Why you said it was more thanthreemiles off!”

“Oh yes! to be sure and sartain, that’s from myown cabin, plaze your honour.—We’re no scholards in this country. Arrah! how can we tell any distance, plaze your honour, but from our ownlittle cabins? Nobody but the schoolmaster knows that, plaze your honour.”

Thus is the mystery unravelled. When you ask any peasant the distance of the place you require, he never computes it from where youthen are, but from hisown cabin; so that, if you asked twenty, in all probability you would have as many different answers, and not one of them correct.But it is to be observed, that frequently you can get no reply at all, unless you understandIrish.

In parts of Kerry and Mayo, however, I have met with peasants who speak Latin not badly. On the election of Sir John Brown for the county of Mayo, Counsellor Thomas Moore and I went down as his counsel. The weather was desperately severe. At a solitary inn, where we were obliged to stop for horses, we requested dinner; upon which, the waiter laid a cloth that certainly exhibited every species of dirt ever invented. We called, and remonstrating with him, ordered a clean cloth. He was a low fat fellow, with a countenance perfectly immoveable, and seeming to have scarcely a single muscle in it. He nodded, and on our return to the room, (which we had quitted during the interval,) we found, instead of a clean cloth, that he had only folded up the filthy one into the thickness of a cushion, and replaced it withgreat solemnity. We now scolded away in good earnest. He looked at us with the greatestsang-froid, said sententiously, “Nemo me impune lacessit!” and turned his back on us.

He kept his word; when we had proceeded about four miles in deep snow, through a desperate night, and on a bleak bog-road, one of the wheels came off the carriage, and down we went! We were at least three miles fromanyhouse. The driver cursed (in Irish) Michael the waiter, who, he said, “had put abran newwheel upon the carriage,which had turned out to be anoldone, and had broken to pieces. It must be the devil,” continued he, “that changed it. Bad luck to you, Michael the waiter, any how! He’s nothin else but a treacherous blackguard, plaze your honour!”

We had to march through the snow to a wretched cottage, and sit up all night in the chimney corner, covered with ashes and smoke, and in company with one of the travelling fools who are admitted and welcomed forgood luckin every cabin, whilst a genuinenew wheelwas got ready for the morning.

The Irish peasant, also, never, if he can avoid it, answers any questiondirectly: in some districts, if you ask where such a gentleman’s house is, he will point and reply, “Does your honour see that large house there, all amongst the trees, with a green field before it?”—You answer, “Yes.” “Well,” says he, “plaze your honour that’snot it. But do you see the big brick house, with the cow-houses by the side of that same, and a pond of water?—you can’t see the ducks, becaze they are always diving, plaze your honour.”

“Yes.”

“Well, your honour,that’snot it. But, if you plaze, look quite to the right of that same house, and you’ll see the top of a castle amongst the trees there, with a road going down to it betune the bushes,—and a damn’d bad road, too, for either a beast or his master!”

“Yes.”

“Well, plaze your honour,that’s not itneither—but if your honour will come down this bit of a road a couple of miles, I’ll show it yousure enough—and if your honour’s in a hurry, I can run onhot foot,[36]and tell the squire your honour’sgalloping afterme. Ah! who shall I tell the squire, plaze your honour, is coming to see him?—he’s my own landlord, God save his honour day and night!”

36.A figurative expression for “with all possiblespeed”—used by the Irish peasants: by taking short cuts, and fairly hopping along, a young peasant would beat any good traveller.

Their superstitions are very whimsical. On returning from the election of Mayo, I asked a fellow who was trotting away by the side of the carriage, and every now and then giving a long hop, to show us his agility—(twisting his shillelah over his head like a whirligig)—“if he was going far that night.”

“Ough! no, no, plaze your honour; it is me that would not go far in this country, these times, after sunset—oh, no, no!”

Fancying he alluded to robbers, I did not feel comfortable:—“And pray, friend,” said I, “why not?”

“I’ll tell your honour that:—becaze, plaze your honour, all the ould people say that the devil comes out of Castlebar after sun-down, to look for prey, from the day the Virgin was delivered till Candlemas eve, and all the priests can’t do nothingagainst him in this quarter. But he’s never seen no more the same year till the holly and ivy drive him out of all the chapels and towns again coming Christmas—and that’s the truth, and nothing else, plaze your honour’s honour!”

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