Hudy XIVb

Chapter XIVb - The Abduction of a Priest

Away, away! my steed and I,
Upon the pinions of the wind,
We sped, like meteors through the sky,
All human dwellings left behind.
So fast we flew away, away!
That I could neither stop nor pray!
Byron

But happiness, that undefined and undefinable phantom

That something still, which prompts the eternal sigh,
For which we bear to live, or dare to die,

was as fleeting in the cottage of Jack Roe as it confessedly is in the palaces of Kings; and the newly-acquired possessions of our hero, so far from sating his appetite, served only to increase his love for further distinction. Such ever are the gifts of ambition!

A horse race for a new saddle and bridle, presented at this time by a dealer in the "mountain dew" (with purely disinterested views) had collected no trifling crowd of idlers; and to-be-sure Hudy was among the number. To do him justice, no man more eschewed haughtiness than he: he could not hear it in others, and he never assumed it himself. But the society with which he had lately associated, we admit, may have unknown to himself given an uppishness to his manner; perhaps others naturally deemed that such should be the case. Jealousy is the canker worm of our happiness. But be that as it may.

A young fellow, less prudent than forward, charged our hero with exhibiting rather more than his usual dignity: the result was a mighty dissent, and a very general bit of a row, through which the genuine volatile Irish spirit was displayed to great advantage. The consequences may be easily guessed - a pleasing variety of broken heads, black eyes, and splendidly lacerated countenances, was to be met on all hands for weeks after; but the affair did not end here - for though we cannot affirm that it furnished employment for "the gentlemen of the long robe", yet so ruinous had it been to the tranquility of the district that it ultimately had to be brought under the consideration of the general pacificator, the justly revered Parish Priest.

The Rev Mr McLaughlin was the minister of peace; and though a rigid disciplinarian and a fearless denouncer of crime, yet in his day Ireland could not have produced a man more esteemed for the inculcation and practice of the milder virtues. But as the affair and its consequences had become the theme of every tongue, the Rev Gentleman found it his duty to denounce it from the altar; he therefore on the earliest Sunday lectured his congregation at great length on the enormities of the crimes committed, the scandals given, the animosities stirred up; and clearly demonstrated how incompatible is strife with the mild and humanizing laws of the God of peace, concluding by urgently pressing the necessity of cultivating brotherly love and christian charity. His eloquence and zeal were generally successful.

But in the commencement of the discourse the Priest was indignant and severe in his rebukes; and Hudy, fancying that he had come in for more than his fair share of the reprehension, turned to one of his neighbours and said in an undertone -

"Low and clane, by my sowl! - Murdher but he's a close shaver!"

As the lecture proceeded, all eyes were occasionally directed towards the Clift as the prime mover of the row, and he was observed to writhe under the castigation; yet, with evident difficulty indeed, he refrained from any interruption. But when the Priest descended to particulars, and pointedly denounced such spirit-stirring amusements as cock-fighting, bull-baiting, and horse-racing, with the promoters and participators &c. &c., Hudy's gleaming eyes demonstrated that his patience was nearly exhausted; yet still his deep personal respect for the "Robed Priest" and his reverence for the House of God restrained his impetuous temper. At the close of the lecture, however, when every other heart had been softened into repentance and obedience, he turned to his friend and bitterly muttered in the hearing of many -

"Naboclish, sogarth, my jewel - you have the whip hand of me now; and faix it's yourself knows how to use the lash; but by my own sowl, there's a day of reckoning comin'; and God forbid that I should withhould the last mite of your dues!"

The half-uttered and mysterious threat was not one likely to keep. It was soon noised abroad, and all who heard of it, knowing that a bit of pleasant revenge was the darling passion of the Clift's heart, were satisfied that his reverence was fairly in for it.

But have you ever been at Magherafelt, or Ballyronan, or Desertmartin, or Tubbermore, or Maghera, or Moneymore, or the Cross of Ballinascreen? Because if you have, we may be forestalled; and if you ever chance to be in any of these localities, you will find thousands, for the trouble of inquiring, that from personal knowledge could swear to the truth of the coming relation. But let us proceed.

It is natural to believe that the unwelcome intelligence was soon to be borne to the ears of the priest, who, clearly understanding the "devil-may-care" character of his customer, did not feel quite at ease upon the subject. Time however rolled on - a month had elapsed - the parties had frequently met, and neither word nor look from the Clift gave evidence of a feeling of resentment. The priest entertained strong hopes that all was forgotten. - But the Clift was a man of principle - his word once passed - his resolution taken. The laws of the Medes and Persians might be altered, but who could wind Hudy McGuigan from his settled purpose? Hudy! - who in all his splores and stramashes depended solely on his own genius and resources - who never condescended to take counsel of mortal man, and who kept his own secrets with a tenacity that would do honor to any lady in the land! Many however agreed with Mr McLaughlin in believing that the squall had blown by; but to those who best knew the constitution of our hero's mind, his cautious silence was the warrant of his unflinching determination.

Solomon was an old-fashioned gentleman. - To do him scanty justice, he certainly knew a trick or two; though we have sometimes been half inclined (reverently) to dispute his positions. He says "there is nothing new under the sun": and hard though this assertion may seem to the carnal eye of the philosophic sceptic in this go-ahead age of steam-ships, steam-coaches, rail-roads &c., we make little doubt that, were we favored with his own elucidations, Solomon might turn out to be right. Even in our humble capacity, and with our limited means of knowledge, we modestly believe that we can throw some light on the subject - "There is nothing new under the sun": for instance, there's that half-Dutch half-Yankee fellow "wot tames lions, tigers, &c. &c." may fancy that he has discovered something new; but he is out for once, as an Irishman took the lead in that, as well in many other valuable discoveries for which the world gives us mighty little credit. Long before Van Amburgh had existence, it is a well-known fact that our hero, without the aid of either crow-bar or iron rod, could tame the most ferocious animal he ever cast an eye on - it is not more surprising than true that his voice seemed to have a magic effect on all the brute creation - and the fiercest dog that ever exhibited a tusk, or the most wicked and untractable horse that ever flung a shoe at you, would tremble and cower and become perfectly docile under the wizard management of Hudy McGuigan. Of this fact the Rev Mr McLaughlin was a standing and unimpeachable evidence, his knowledge being drawn from a source even more convincing than ocular demonstration.

But things were "in statu quo" when one fine Sunday morning, after having officiated in a distant part of the country, the priest was seen leisurely proceeding on a good stout horse for the purpose of celebrating twelve o'clock mass in his own parish chapel. The people were all waiting his arrival, and full in view; the fields and the roads were alive, covered with moving masses, as the Protestant and Presbyterian congregations were also proceeding to worship. The priest, gravely intent upon the discharge of his sacred duties, held steadily on his way till - turning a sharp angle in the road - who should he light upon but Hudy, wrapped up in a great-coat, with the awfully ominous spurs buckled to his bare heels. The unexpected crash of a thunderbolt had not struck him with more dread. Instinctively, or by an unintentional check of the bridle, the horse stopped: the Clergyman gazed as on a basilisk - his heart told him that the hour of revenge and retribution had arrived. But summoning his energies and endeavouring to avert the evil - gathering comfort at the same time from the contiguity of his flock - he moved forward, and saluted the lad in his blandest and most conciliating manner:

"Good morning to you, master Hugh."

"Good morrow-mornin' kindly, an' God save yer reverence; an' where are ye bound for, sagarth aroon?"

"Why, you perceive I am going to the chapel, as usual, to say mass," and the Priest cast a troubled and wistful glance at his warm-hearted and much-attached people.

"To say mass! why, by the powers, if ye don't make haste ye'll be too late! my mother's there an hour ago. But in thrath it's no wonder - that's a lazy brute ye ride, bad scran to him! Might I take the liberty of helpin' yer reverence an wid him a bit?"

And, just upon the word, off flew the cotamore. He laid his hand on the horse's rump - the animal trembled from head to tail; with the agility of a wild cat he sprung up behind the paralyzed Priest; and with the wrap-rascal before him, there he exhibited in all the dignity of naked truth!

How different were the feelings of the parties at this moment! Hudy sat, grinning with delight - savagely exulting, like an Indian warrior on the capture of a hostile chief. But the Priest! - there was no speculation in his eye! Unable to think or act, there he was - stupefied - bewildered. The Clift perceived his condition; and in order to increase his bewilderment and render him still more passive, dash went the spurs into the horse's flanks! A bound, a wild furious bound, was the result. The Priest screamed outright.

But the congregation saw and heard the whole; and, fired with indignation, a loud simultaneous shout that rent the heavens and attracted the ardent attention of the other church-goers, burst from a thousand throats; and man, woman, and child, all, all, eagerly darted forward to the rescue. The rapid rush of so many individuals towards one point, and on the sacred day, was not a circumstance likely to pass unnoticed. Curiosity is a passion, or a feeling, or - what you will; but assuredly it is "the wheel within the wheel", the most powerful spring within the human breast and, to our shame be it spoken, exercises an influence that even religion fails to exert. On this occasion, religion was forgotten; domestic affairs were neglected. In ten minutes the whole country was in rapid and excited movement, all pouring to one point

When properly determined on any exploit, no man could weigh probabilities with more correct precision than the Clift. In choosing the time and place for his present splore, his calculations proved him an able tactician. Keeping in view the main body of the enemy, he cared little for the straggling parties. He was prepared, however, for every emergency. He calmly gazed around him on all sides: like a skilful general, he reconnoitred the coming foe; then, composedly mastering the reins with one hand, he leisurely bent his body and unbuckled the girths with the other.

"Throw yer feet out of the sthurrups, sogarth mavourneen," said Hudy in the kindest manner. "Aisy now aisy, an' don't be afeard, for the divil a dhrap nor dhrap I'll do you."

In a moment, the saddle was under the horse's belly; and, to his further consternation, the struggling Priest was comfortably seated on his bare back. By this time the converging crowds were rapidly on the advance, and burning for revenge. The Priest was beginning to entertain strong hopes of a rescue - a few minutes and he was safe. But the Clift saw the time for action had arrived - a tug at the reins, and the horse headed to the ditch: again he gazed around him, and waited till the foremost party was within ear-shot; then addressing them in his own style -

"Augh, upon my sowl, boys darlin's, ye're jist in time to be too late, do ye mind, so beannacht leat!"

A heavy dash of the spurs: "Throw from ye, ma bouchal!" roared Hudy to the horse, and over went the trio in the twinkling of a horsewhip.

The disappointment and indignation of the people were extreme, and their yells of rage echoed far and wide; but, his journey fairly commenced, the Clift never puddled his head on that score. Melancholy however was the contrast between him and his victim. The grief, surprise and terror of the aged Clergyman on finding his hopes baffled may be more easily conceived than portrayed. His personal sufferings were of minor consideration; but his sensitive mind depicted, even with exaggerated colouring, all the bearings of his painfully ludicrous position. There he was - a man of kindly and delicate feelings - a Priest of spotless fame - made the subject of ten thousand tongues - whisked away by a reckless idiot on the Lord's day, and forcibly prevented from performing the duties of his sacred office. There he sat, rather corpulent in person, perspiring under the influence of conflicting passions, scampering off with his naked tormentor behind him - the object of ridicule, pity, or malice, as the prejudices of the spectators might determine. But worse to be borne than all, was "the cowld comfort" which Hudy, with an arch simplicity and voluble tongue, was ever pouring in his ear.

"Howld fast by the widthers, yer reverence, here's a lape. Whew! Capityal, by my sowl! Faix, sogarth aroon, it's yerself rides well! Divil a boy in the county, barrin' myself, could do it nater. Augh then, sure ye'll have no dislikings to a dacent bit of a horse-race afther this day's darlin' exercise! Bad scran to me, but I think wid a little thrainin' ye would be a capityal han' at a steeple chase."

And away, and away they went! over hedges and ditches - through bog and mire - over hill and dale - through river and stream: the Priest, with nervous excitement, occasionally struggling and screaming: the horse, with more than instinctive docility, obeying every wish of the Clift, who with Herculean strength and great adroitness kept the amiable though unfortunate Clergyman as it were waxed to his seat. And away, and away they went, at a bit of a hand gallop, with three congregations and half the remaining population of the district in full mouth after them.

The exertions of the people to rescue the Priest and punish his evil genius were strenuous and untiring, though perfectly vain and hopeless. Hudy knew every inch of the country; and cared mighty little for the wrath, while he sneered at the persevering zeal, of the pursuers. Perfectly aware that to a person of sedentary habits air and exercise are the best possible medicines, he was resolutely determined, by means of a sanative ride, not only on agitating the grosser humours of the sogarth's chorpis, but also on appetizing him to his heart's content; nor was he at all backward in laying open his kindly and philosophic views.

"Isn't it a darlin' mornin', sogarth aroon? - a capityal garron? Faix it's himself cuts a good bottom. Bad scran to me, but the ride'll be worth goold to ye. The divil a docthor in the univarse is like "docthor horse" afther all, do ye mind."

And away, and away on his scientific experiment; but he was too philanthropic to confine his good wishes to the Priest: he was equally anxious to indulge the people something after the same fashion; and therefore was it that he frequently took a circuit in his course, affording to his pursuers the very great advantage of a near cut, by which the more advanced were occasionally favored with a cooling plunge to the knees in a quagmire. But away, and away they went, and kept turning and winding, apparently with the view of eluding pursuit. The Priest, as was natural, screaming and perspiring - the crowd, like a rolling snowball swelling in its course, vowing vengeance, and straining every nerve in the chase; while Hudy, glancing round like "Tam O'Shanter on the look-out for the bogles", carefully eyed his pursuers, and kept them at such a tempting distance as served merely to allure them still farther. Enjoying with keen zest the perfect success of his plans - literally convulsed at the simplicity of his dupes - he was ever and anon, with a laughing devil in his eye, dropping a word of comfort or indigant remonstrance into the Priest's ear.

"Arrah, bad scran to them omadhons, what can they mane, yer reverence? By the powers they're as noisy as a pack of uncoupled baigles! Musha bad luck attend them, haven't they kicked up a purty hubbub in the counthry, this blissed Sunday mornin'! Curse o' Cromwell an them, what makes them follow us? Sure we're nayther thieves nor murdherers! - sure there's nayther hooves nor horns upon us! - sure we're no merry-andrews! Bad scran to them, did they nivir see a horse carry double before! Short legs to them, I pray cruite! But keep yer sate firm, yer reverence, an' divil run day about wid them, but we'll bate them hollow."

And hollow they did beat them; for when the maggot began to cool in Hudy's brain, he managed his courser with great skill till he placed himself directly between his flagging pursuers and the priest's house, and, slackening his speed to favor the approach of the more advanced, he exclaimed with his customary nonchalance -

"Augh boys darlin's, isn't it high time to be going home now? Faix I'm sarry I can't accommodate yez any longer - becase, you see, it's near the sogarth's dinner hour, and the garron, long life to him, will be expecting a bait - so beannacht leat."

Then, speaking to the horse - "Whew! throw from you in airnest now, ma bouchal."

A dash of the spurs, a wild encouraging cheer, put the animal upon his mettle, and a short time saw Mr McLaughlin standing at his own door, sound of wind and limb, but sorely vexed in spirit, deeply galled both in body and mind; while Hudy, having resumed his wrap-rascal, unbuckled his spurs, put them into his pocket, and blandly wishing the Priest a good appetite, a good dinner, and a good night's sleep after "the darlin' morning's ride he had", bounded off with such speed as no other man, and but few horses, could exhibit.

We will not venture upon the Priest's reflections - but the people went leisurely home, rejoicing that their pastor had escaped uninjured, yet deeply indignant at the equally gross and wanton outrage - their wrath by no means lessened by reflecting that they had been deprived of hearing mass, and were led such a wild-goose chase, by the reckless devilry of - a Quarterclift!

This page was last updated 7 Nov 2018