Hudy XVIIc

Chapter XVIIc - The Ball: Hudy Stamps his Mark

Just then they were joined by an old gentleman, Mr Stevenson, of Fort William. He had been amusing himself at the card-table, and was rather uninformed with regard to the presence of our hero, who was intimately known to him, though by no means one of his favourites. Surprised as much at his dress as by his presence in the ballroom, he looked amazed, and with mixed surprise and indignation exclaimed: "In the name of wonder, Counsellor Torrens, why has this mischievous idiot been introduced here? I take the liberty of saying it is an outrage on delicacy and all gentlemanly feeling!"

The Counsellor was about to reply when the Clift, who had listened with delighted attention, took up the word: "Augh, yer sarvant, Mr Stevenson; faix it's a long time since you and me met at a ball before - maybe ye would join me an' Lady Hill in a three-reel; by my sowl, I'll be bound she'll trip it nate, and shure yerself's not too ould to shake yer foot in company wid a nice young crather!"

The old gentleman "looked unutterable things": he had known his customer merely as a wild untameable being, delighting in mischief, and practising his tricks, without much regard to rank or age - but here he stood in a new character, and the droll diablerie that flashed from his eyes told more on the old gentleman's temper than the perpetration of one of his most reckless freaks. The party was entranced. Lady Hill thought she saw the commencement of a rich scene, and in order to precipitate it slyly said: "If Mr Stevenson please to dance, I shall be delighted to be one of the party."

Mr Stevenson stared: he thought the lady demented; and with grave dignity replied: "Does Lady Hill forget her rank and station? Or does she wish deliberately to insult a man of my years?"

"Far be it from me, my dear Sir. I think I could not act so unworthily; and I am sure on reflection your own innate politeness, and high sense of gallantry, will absolve me from all such intention."

"A home-blow, by my sowl! Augh, by the powers, Mr Stevenson, ye should keep out of short-grips wid the ladies; they're like Billy McCay of Portglenone: 'worth bein' let alone', do ye mind."

"Silence, unmannered hound!" was the bitter reply.

"There's for ye now! Manners! Well, by the powers! Faix an' it's some people have quare thoughts about them same. By my sowl, my ould buck, I'm afeard the darlin' bit of a race we had wan day sticks in yer crawpin yet, do ye mind!"

"You abominable scoundrel, do you dare to laugh at me after the wanton outrage you committed. But I shall yet punish you as you deserve."

And, in a towering passion, he was about to retire when his son, Major Stevenson, attracted by his father's high tones, came forward. "Why father," said the young man, "surely you would not resent the little piece of drollery our friend the Chevalier played off against you?"

"Yes Sir I would; and did you feel as you ought upon the occasion, you would horsewhip the rascal!"

"Why, faith, that would be an act which might have rather an unpleasant termination; besides, you must recollect that you gave some provocation."

But the old gentleman whisked off in a rage, without deigning to listen to further expostulation.

"Augh, don't bother yer father, Major; he has ould-fashioned notions, do ye mind. By my sowl, he would have ye believe men was mice; but bad luck to me if ivir I could creep into a hole at the proud look or beddy word of any man; though, in thrath, I might have passed him anyhow, and would have only for yer own four bones, Major. Divil a man in the county could help the lame dog over the stile betther nor yerself, do ye mind."

A loud laugh at the Major's expense was the natural result of this ready hit; but, anxious to continue the colloquy, "Pray Chevalier explain," said Lady Hill, "what cause of offence rankles so bitterly in Mr Stevenson's breast."

"By the powers, then, 'tis aisy tould: he was ridin' up wan day to the Six Towns - that's his own estate, do ye mind - an' there was a parcel of young fellas of us jumpin' an the road; an', well becomes himself, he ordhers us out of his way, like as many dogs, ye parsave; an' my blood was up, an' says I, 'Do ye want a ride acrass the counthry, Mr Stevenson? Because if ye do, I'm yer man,' says I; but faix the ould chap took the hint, an' he claps spurs to the horse, an' aff he goes like blazes, wid meself hot foot afther him, an' divil a single totther an my body, no more nor the hour I was born, savin' yer presence!"

Lady Hill's fan, as well as those of other ladies now congregated around the party, was brought into immediate use; while the gentlemen, witty to the very verge of propriety, showed some little inclination to amplify, or rather fill up a picture, the outlines of which had been so rapidly sketched by the Clift.

"How far did you follow Mr Stevenson?" asked the gay actuating genius of the night.

"Seven mile, by the powers! Divil a yard less! An' manys a time it was 'head an' girth' wid us; but faix the black horse cut a prime bottom, an' fairly bate me out for it, an' so I had pains for my throuble, do ye mind."

"But why did you follow him so far - I should think the chase was hopeless?"

"Whew! By my sowl, that's all ye know about it. Divil a horse in twenty I couldn't run down - but, in thrath, it was the Major egged me up to it, ye parsave."

"I wasn't aware that the Major was in company with his father," said Lady Hill.

"No more was he - but him an' young Mr Colthurst was coorsin' an the mountains an' met us; an' his father called out to him an' says he, "For the sake of marcy, William, take that madman aff me"; but, by the powers, the Major was jist as fand of the sport as I was, an' he winks at myself, an' he cocks his thum' over his shouldher afther the ould chap, as much as to say, stick it in to him, yer sowl; an' an I went - but, by the powers, he bate me out for it, an' cleverly too, do ye mind."

"Well I must confess he was a dutiful son, Chevalier," said the lady, with a peculiar glance at the Major.

"Augh, let him alone for that, though by the powers he knowed right well that divil have all the harm I would do him - I only wanted to give him a ride acrass the counthry, an' shure ye'll allow that two or three darlin' lapes over hedges and ditches gives a body a keen stomach for a good dinner - it's capityal for ould an' young, do ye mind. Bad luck to me but my mother's as fresh as a lark afther her darlin' hunt yesterday."

"But are we not to be favored with the hornpipe, Chevalier?" said Lady Hill, in fascinating accents.

"Augh, by the powers, I'm at yer sarvice. Fiddlers, play up 'Maggy Pickins'."

"I'm not accustomed to play it," said the leader.

"Baugh! bad luck to ye for an omadhon, don't I know betther - haven't I h'ard ye play it fifty times. Augh, Jack McNail, maybe I don't know ye; ye want to show aff before the ladies and gentlemen but, by the powers, I'll soon end the dispute - I'll sing it to ye - it runs this way, do ye mind,"

"Norah Murphy up the glen
Hates - naboclish - all the men;
She cocks a saucy cap, but then
Whistle oe'r the lave o't."

"There now! go an afther that, if ye plaise, an' no more of yer capers, do ye mind."

"Oh! Chevalier, I am delighted!" said Lady Hill. "You have a splendid voice; do favor us with the remainder of the song."

"Well upon my conscience it's hardly worth a listenin' to. I hate the old dhrizzenin' words that's to it; I prefar, ye parsave, a good bould sportin' song, about horses an' dogs, but since it plaises ye, by the powers ye shall have it."

"Oh! certainly, Chevalier, I wouldn't lose a line of it for worlds."

"Pardon me, Lady Hill," said an officious namby-pamby young gentleman, with rich golden curls floating about his ears, and dressed in the extreme of fashion, "you may not be aware of the nature of the request you have made - I have heard songs to that tune which contain very objectionable matter, being interspersed not only with double-entendres, but coarse, vulgar, undisguised obscenity."

The Clift listened with deep attention, and as he gathered the meaning of the speaker's words, his face became flushed, and his eyes shot forth that wild fire which invariably illumined them when in a state of excitement. With a look of ineffable contempt, he measured the young dandy from head to foot. The party perceived the turbulent workings of his spirit, and much dreaded an outburst; but ere any of them could interpose a word, the Clift, in a calm, deep, sarcastic tone, saluted the volunteer monitor with -

"What's your name, my purty boy? Whose son are you, acushla? What school are ye at, aroon? Faix I see ye have got some useful larnin', and dacent too! Augh it's yerself's the apt scholar; yer masther has raison to be proud of ye! Bad luck to ye, for an uncultivated abomination! who tould ye I was goin' to affront ladies?"

"Let me entreat you, Chevalier," said Lady Hill, in the most soothing manner, "to overlook the observations of the young gentleman."

"Gentleman! - baugh! The unsignified spit-in-my-pocket! Gentleman! by my sowl, medem, if that be the larnin' an' manners gentlemen gets, the poor can well afford to do widout them."

"Well, Chevalier, I beg you will pass the circumstance without further notice. He is inexperienced, and cannot possess that perception of character which mature years alone can bestow. Had he known you as well as I do, he never would have hazarded a doubt of your correct feeling; so I pray you will forgive him, for my sake."

"Augh, by my sowl, ye have stapped my mouth, an' it's yerself knows how. Divil another crooked word'll crass my lips the night; but, by the powers, it's good for him you an' the other ladies was here - becase why, if I had took it into my head to send him whistlin' through the window, bad luck to me if all the men in the room could save him, do ye mind."

"I feel much complimented, and shall not soon forget your ready courtesy, Chevalier," said Lady Hill. "I hope I shall yet have the pleasure of thanking you at Brook Hall."

"Augh, say nothin' about it, medem. By the powers I don't know the man would refuse to do yer biddin'; an' upon my conscience I'm proud of yer hospitality; an' in thrath I'll call upon ye when I go to see Dr. E── of Buncranna, an ould friend of mine, do ye mind."

The gentlemen stood at a little distance, delighted spectators of the interesting scene just described. At one time they very much questioned the prudence of introducing such a character to such society: they had known nothing of his habits, temper, or general disposition; and when the uncalled-for advice of the young man blew up the Clift, they actually trembled for the consequence. But when they perceived Lady Hill with admirable tact softening down his savage passions, and moulding him to her will, they could not help admiring the magic power of the one, and the polite submission of the other - 'twas the conflict of a cultivated understanding with a generous, though rude and untutored, will; - the triumph was signal.

"But are we to be disappointed in the song, Chevalier?" said Lady Hill, playfully. "I am all impatience to hear it; and I am satisfied the rest of the ladies are equally anxious."

"Augh, by the powers I won't twin ye, medem; so widout more ado, here goes, do ye mind."

"Norah Murphy up the glen
Hates - naboclish - all the men;
She cocks a saucy cap, but then
Whistle oe'r the lave o't.

Nora had a sweetheart thrue,
Sthrappin' Rory Oge McHeugh;
But Nora's tongue was glib, and - whew! -
Whistle ye the lave o't.

Next came Micky Charley Roe
A daffy-dilly full in blow;
But Nora tould him he might go
An' whistle oe'r the lave o't.

Donald Dalt from Derrymore
Stapped his horse at Nora's door;
Donald cut - we'll say no more,
But whistle oe'r the lave o't.

Nora has got goold in store,
Cows an' calves an' pigs galore;
A garron-bawn, and something more
That whistles oe'r the lave o't.

Nora has a dacent farm,
A cosy cottage, snug an' warm,
A rosy cheek, a comely form,
But whistle ye the lave o't.

Nora wants that modest grace,
The sweetest charm in woman's face
That lovers are so fand to trace,
An' whistle for the lave o't.

Nora's thoughts are rayther high,
Nora has a prideful eye;
So Nora's left alone to sigh
An' whistle oe'r the lave o't."

"An' so forth. There now, medem, that's it all, an' upon my conscience it's hardly worth scrapin's, but there's nothin' unproper in it, do ye mind."

"Really, Chevalier, I am delighted with your song, as well as your style of singing; - the composition is good, the sentiments pure, and on the whole it reads a useful lecture to those haughty maidens who foolishly reject offers that would be in every way suitable - but their pride carries its own punishment."

"It does, by the powers, an' divil relieve them say I. Bad scran to the wan ivir desarved to be let alone more nor Nora. Augh, but she blinked the milk purtily when she refused Rory Oge; - bad luck to the nicer fellow in fifty fairs."

"And are Nora and her lovers real characters, Chevalier?" enquired Lady Hill.

"Well in thrath they are; an', more betoken, ye have their rale names an' surnames into the bargain, except Donald Dalt's, an' his name was Doherty, do ye parsave."

"And who, may I ask, composed the song?"

"By the powers, then, it was Henry John O'Hagan; as clivir a fellow, an' as fine a scholar, as between this an' the watherside of Derry, an' that's no lie."

"I have trespassed much upon your good nature tonight, Chevalier; but I am so partial to your song that I must admit your furnishing me with a copy would confer an additional compliment."

"Augh, murdher in Irish! - give ye a cappy! - blood-an-oundhers! Bad luck to the scrape ivir I writ, or word ivir I read, in my life-time, or school kind ivir covered me, - except when I used to go in to kick up a splore an' work divilment when the masther would be out, do ye mind, - but shure I can get it done for ye: - Brian Boccagh O'Higgins, the schoolmaster of the Six Towns, would write it out in a jiffy, if I could catch him in the humour: but he's a crass ather-cap of a craythur betimes. He's cracked wid larnin' ye parsave, an' not always in his right senses; but by hook or by crook I'll have it for ye, do ye mind."

"I am extremely obliged to you, Chevalier, - but are we not to have the hornpipe?"

"Augh, by the powers I forgot! Bad luck to that young pucken! - that bit of a tift ye parsave dhruv it clane out of my head. Counsellor, could ye get us a pewther plate?"

"I fear not, Chevalier; but would not a delf one answer your purpose."

"A delf plate? - dance an a delf plate! - whew! - blood-an-oundhers, man, don't ye see that the first hap would knock it to smidhereens!"

"I was not aware you purposed dancing on it, Chevalier; but you could easily obviate the difficulty by marking the size of a delf plate upon the floor."

"Thrue for ye, by the powers! - can ye give us a bit of chalk?"

The Counsellor, with a bland smile, took means to procure it; and, the circle being chalked out, the Chevalier, in high spirits, prepared for his feat.

"Stan' all of yez roun' an' make a pit now; or if yez take sates roun' the walls it'll do as well, an', by the powers, I'll dance yez six-an'-thirty steps widout ivir crassin' the lines, do ye mind. Strike up Jack! - 'Maggy Pickins', yer sowl! - bouldly now, an' maybe I won't show yez play."

The company, in compliance with his wishes, did arrange themselves round the walls. The music struck up, and with an agility and precision that delighted the beholders, the Clift commenced the exhibition. Confining himself strictly to the limits prescribed, he performed his promise to the letter, and the thirty-six steps were danced within a circle of twelve inches in diameter. The applause of the whole assembly rewarded his exertions, but the compliments paid him by Lady Hill and the Counsellor were most grateful to his feelings.

"I am delighted and surprised, Chevalier," said Lady Hill. "I have seen the most active dancers on the London and Dublin stages, and I must confess their best efforts are eclipsed by your performance tonight."

"By the powers then, ye have seen but little of what I can do in that line, becase why, I was too confined; but stand back a bit if ye plaise, an' I'll thry to show ye some han'-waftin'; - come Jack, give us 'The Barroway Jockey', an' don't be noddin', my ould cock, by my sowl ye'll need to sthir yer feathers, do ye mind."

Again the fiddlers obeyed, and the Clift, now not confined to so limited a space, for half an hour gave such proofs of agility and sustaining muscle as none present would have attributed to any human being: but his strength and pliancy of limb surprised less than the grace of motion and correct ear for music displayed throughout the ever-varying and spirit-stirring tune. When the hornpipe was concluded, the plaudits were so vehement, unfeigned and long-continued that, had Oscar Birnie, the first professional danseur in the world (an Irishman, by-the-bye, who had the honor of exhibiting his powers before all the crowned heads of Europe on the Paris boards in 1815) been present, he might have envied the well-earned and honest praise bestowed upon our hero. All flocked around him, anxious to express their high sense of his performance; Lady Hill was marked in her encomiums - the Counsellor shook him by the hand and said,

"Well, Chevalier, I was much gratified by your horsemanship, but I must say your powers as a dancer exceed even your equestrian exploits. I really cannot conceive how you have found time and opportunity to attain such excellence in your various accomplishments."

"Bido hocht, Counsellor, lave the soap to the ladies! but faix I have wan wee thrick to shew ye yet, an' afther that I'm done for this night, ye parsave; an', by my sowl, I'll be boun' ye'll say it'll be a cappy for iviry man that'll set a foot in this room till the day of judgment, do ye mind."

"And what may that be?" said the Counsellor.

"Augh, naboclish, ye'll see yer way this minute, as the gomeril said to the blind man, when he gave him a candle to light him to bed - but have ye any lam'-black in the house, do ye think?"

"I am really not aware, but should rather suppose not."

"Divil a matther - make wan of the sarvants scrape some coom aff the bottom of the pot, an' it'll do jist as well, do ye mind."

The necessary orders were given, the article procured, and a servant presented it to our hero on a plate.

"Now fetch me some wather, an' stan' there." The order was obeyed.

"Now all of yez sit down, an' watch like foxes." The company took their seats. The Clift poured some water on the plate containing the soot, and laid it on the floor.

"Mix that well, ma bouchal." The servant stared disobedience.

"Bad luck to ye for a painted buttherfly, have ye no fingers? Mix it this minute, or by my sowl I'll put some more spots on yer wings an' tail! Can't ye wash yer hands downstairs, ye omadhon!"

The servant sought no second hint - he obeyed, and retired.

"Strike up Jack, yer sowl - a merry jig, do ye mind!"

The music recommenced - the Clift darted off in the dance once more. The assembly was all attention. A few splendid steps, and he approached the plate: "Whew, yer sowls! here goes." - without halting in the dance, he lightly touched the mixture with the toe of his shoe - a wild cheer, an upward spring - and a ceiling ten feet from the floor for ever after bore the dusky mark of the Quarterclift!

"There now Counsellor, how does that plaise ye?"

"I really want words to express my admiration, your last feat has so far exceeded everything I could fancy in relation to human agility that I am lost in amazement - but take a seat, you must be greatly fatigued."

"Divil a bit indeed. By the powers ye know little about it; - I could work at that sport for twenty-four hours. My flesh is as hard as hiccory - feel the guard of my arm."

The Counsellor did so - the Clift shut his fist, sprung his sinews, and exclaimed - "What do ye think of that now?"

"I'm astonished; your arm's as hard as the brawn of a boar!"

"By my sowl an' that's no lie; - but I must be aff - the ould couple'll be an the look-out for me."

"Why, it is quite early; you cannot think of deserting us so soon, after so mainly contributing to the enjoyments of the evening."

"Bido hocht, Counsellor. Faix I know I give ye some sport, but by the powers I kept some of the ladies from dancin' too, do ye mind, an' upon my conscience I'm sarry for it; but bad luck to my stupid head, when I'm rightly raised I nivir know when to quit; and Lady Hill played me like a throut this night - augh murdher! isn't she a right bit of blood - by my sowl I wish you had sich a wife, Counsellor."

"She would certainly secure any man's felicity, if good sense, good breeding, a cultivated understanding, and a gay, happy, innocent disposition could accomplish so desirable an end."

"Augh by my sowl she's a peery an' that's no lie! but has she a sister, Counsellor?"

"Not one."

"Blood-an-oundhers, what a pity! by the powers I'm sorry for it, an your account, do ye mind - but I must bid her good night, anyhow."

"Why really, you cannot go so soon. Here is Lady Hill, and I will leave the matter to her decision."

"Agreed, by the powers! an' I'll be bound she gives it against ye."

"The Chevalier is about to take leave of us, Lady Hill; he agrees, however, to refer the matter to you. What says your Ladyship?"

"I should like to hear his reasons before I decide," said Lady Hill, in her usual bland style.

"Well, by the powers, medem, it's becase the ould woman would sit up till day-break if I wouldn't go home. Augh, by my sowl it would be betther for a fellow to be possessed of seven divils nor be unkindly to the mother. A hard heart's the greatest curse, do ye mind."

"Your reasons are unanswerable, Chevalier," said the lady; "and beyond all I have seen of you, I admire your filial love: it tells honorably for your heart, and, let me add, it will ensure the protection of heaven."

"Right, upon my conscience! an' many's the time I said that my mother's prayers an' blissin's saved me in all the splores an' stramashes I have come through; - so, Counsellor, as ye're fairly bate, I'll wish the ladies and gentlemen all a good night. Beannacht leat. But where'll I lave the dhress?"

"You will wear it for my sake, Chevalier."

"Well, by the powers, I will, an' be proud of yer kindness. Whew! - Augh, Counsellor - but I'll tell ye another time. Maybe I won't have sport wid it: bad scran to me but I'll make a sartin lady bite her nails, for want of somethin' better to do, ye parsave. Good night, medem."

"Good night, Chevalier. Remember your engagement to visit Brook Hall."

"Augh, by the powers ye may thrust me till the cuckoo forgets her song, an' that won't be till the day of judgment. Good night, Counsellor."

"A moment, Chevalier; - the gentlemen present beg your acceptance of this purse as a proof of their good wishes."

The Clift stared. "Divil a toss, Counsellor! I couldn't take a single thraneen of it, - becase why, I have no call for it. God be wid yez all."

And, deeply affected, he bowed himself out before a tongue could be raised to press his acceptance of the money, leaving his respectable friends to dilate upon a character and scenes which had furnished them much entertainment, and the like of which they had never met, nor ever again expected to see.

This page was last updated 7 Nov 2018