FLOGGING THE WINE-COOPERS.
Account of the flagellation undergone by the two coopers—Their application to the author for redress—Tit for tat, or givingbackthe compliment—Major Connor, and his disinclination for attorneys—His brother, Arthur Connor.
An anecdote, amongst many of the same genus, which I witnessed myself, about the same period, is particularly illustrative of the state of things in the Irish metropolis at the celebrated epocha of 1798.
Two wine-coopers of a Mr. Thomas White, an eminent wine-merchant, in Clare Street, had been bottling wine at my house in Merrion Square. I had known them long to be honest, quiet, and industrious persons: going to their dinner, they returned, to my surprise, with their coats and waistcoats hanging loose on their arms, and their shirts quite bloody behind. They told their pitiful story with peculiar simplicity:—that as they were passingquietly by Major Connor’s barrack, at Shelburn House, Stephen’s Green, a fellow who owed one of them a grudge for beating him and his brother at Donnybrook, had told Major Connor that “he heard we were black rebels, and knew well where many a pike was hid in vaults and cellars in the city, if we chose to discover of them; on which the Major, please your honour, Counsellor, without stop or stay, or the least ceremony in life, ordered the soldiers to strip us to our buffs, and then tied us to the butt-end of a great cannon, and—what did he do then, Counsellor dear, to two honest poor coopers, but he ordered the soldiers to give us fifty cracks a-piece with the devil’s cat-o’-nine-tails, as he called it; though, by my sowl, I believe there were twenty tails to it—which the Major said he always kept saftening in brine, to wallop such villains as we were, Counsellor dear! Well, every whack went thorough my carcase, sure enough; and I gave tongue, because I couldn’t help it: so, when he had his will of us, he ordered us to put on our shirts, and swore us to come back in eight days more for the remaining fifty cracks, unless we brought fifty pikes in the place of them. Ah, the devil a pike ever we had, Counsellor dear, and what’ll we do, Counsellor, what’ll we do?”
“Take this to the Major,” said I, writing to him a note of no very gentle expostulation. “Give this, with my compliments; and if he doesnot redress you, I’ll find means of making him.”
The poor fellows were most thankful; and I immediately received a note from the Major, with many thanks for undeceiving him, and stating, that if the wine-coopers would catch the fellow that belied them, he’d oblige the chap with a cool hundred, from a new double cat, which he would order for the purpose.
The Major strictly kept his word. The wine-coopers soon found their accuser, and brought him to Major Connor, with my compliments; who sent him home in half-an-hour with as raw a back as any brave soldier in his Majesty’s service.
Learning also from the coopers that their enemy was an attorney’s clerk, (a profession the Major had a most inveterate and very just aversion to,) he desired them to bring him any disloyal attorneys they could find, and he’d teach them more justice in one hour at Shelburn Barracks, than they’d practise for seven years in the Four Courts.
The accuser, who got so good a practical lecture from Major Connor, was a clerk to Mr. H. Hudson, an eminent attorney, of Dublin.
The Major’s brother, Arthur, was under a state prosecution, and incarcerated as an unsuccessful patriot—but one to whom even Lord Clare could not deny the attributes of consistency, firmness, and fidelity. His politics were decidedlysincere. Banished from his own country, he received high promotion in the French army; and, if he had not been discontinued from the staff of his relative, Marshal Grouchy, the battle of Waterloo (from documents I have seen)musthave had a different termination. This, however, is an almost inexcusable digression.