Hudy XI

Chapter XI - A Singular Colloquy

The crowd was astonished at the clever and unexpected transformation, and gave utterance to their feelings as crowds generally do. The late exulting noblemen and gentlemen looked rather queer upon it, believing that the Colonel had concocted the trick; but the Clift felt (what the world should know) that the whole merit and glory of the affair belonged exclusively to himself, and he was now anxious to prove that his corporeal powers were quite in keeping with his mental qualifications; he therefore measured, with correct eye, the leaps of his opponents, and taking his stand, all smeared as he was, he poised himself gracefully on the trig, and exclaimed,

"Whew your sowls! Here goes for the Colonel!"

Then bounding forward, with the firm muscle of a roebuck on the stretch, he flung himself three yards beyond the mark of his most successful antagonist. Astonishment settled down on the countenances of all present: the shouts were tremendous. The Clift felt the value of his victory, as it allowed him to retort upon those whose late conduct was at variance with all kindly feelings, or correct notions of fair play: he therefore wheeled upon the gaping assembly, and with an eye of flame, and a tongue of gall, he roared at them,

"Whew! bad luck to you, for a set of senseless gomerils! What do you think of the old beggarman now? eh! - Well Colonel, acushla, will Lord Caledon send his lick-plate to horse-whip me after that? By my sowl, I wish he would, becase I'm just in blood, do you mind, and I would be proud to taich him the time o' day! Curse o' Cromwell on you, for a pack of unfeeling hounds! (no, by my sowl, there's some dacency in the dog) but a pack of Christian brutes, that was ready to mock, and ill thrait wan of your own kind, the helpless old boccagh. Would any of you dare to wag a cudgel at him now? eh!"

And snatching Black Bess from the hand of his friend Tom Gabha (the blacksmith), who had accompanied him on his journey, twirl went "the Ould Lady" round his finger, in firm and graceful defiance of the whole multitude. But, as every body's business is nobody's business, and as every man modestly appealed to his neighbour for the example, much time was lost in the strict observance of etiquette, till at last it was evident that the entire crowd had declined the polite invitation: in the meantime, the Noblemen and gentlemen, whose premature triumph over the Colonel had been more marked than delicate, found it in perfect keeping with their idea of good breeding (now that the tables were turned) to treat him in quite a different style, and settle scores with as good a grace as possible; but the Clift, on the close of his energetic speech, had, hop-step-and-jump, made off to the Crooked Burn, there by the aid of his judicious friend to undergo some necessary ablutions, and to "purge off the baser stuff" that had marred his manly beauty, and concealed those fine lineaments and proportions, that extraordinary muscular power, so conspicuous in him, and so deeply gratifying to the eye of every beholder.

His movements had been so rapid that his patron, whose gratitude knew no bounds, missed the desired opportunity of congratulating him on his triumph. He went to seek him, but, informed whither and for what purpose he had retired, he patiently awaited his return, and entered into conversation with his noble friends, who engaged him in a warm discussion on the wonderful powers of our hero, and expressed themselves anxious to become better acquainted with him.

But a few moments, and a wild terrific shout attracted their attention. A thousand "murdher"s rung on all sides from the excited multitude, and our party, simultaneously raising their eyes in the same direction, to their utter consternation perceived a naked man, brandishing a crutch, flying over Lord O'Neill's pavilion, as if sustained in middle air by the fabled influence of the Petasus and Talaria of the celebrated Mercurius. Mute with sheer astonishment, the noblemen stared at each other, as if seeking a solution of the miracle. But at the first glance, Colonel Heyland knew his man, and in a word explained the mystery to his bewildered friends.

"Hudy McGuigan, by all that's lovely!"

But the feat was not, in reality, so surprising as at first sight it appeared. The tent in question had been raised against the shelter of a hill, which in that particular spot formed one of the banks of the Crooked Burn, and which was within a few feet of being as high as the ridge of the temporary dwelling. The effort necessary to overtop the marquee was therefore within the powers even of an ordinary leaper; but this fact was unknown to the beholders, and the delusion was perfect; yet the only hazard or difficulty lay in the depth of the descent - some sixteen or eighteen feet. But this was only a trifling consideration to one who was in the almost daily habit of pursuing the hawk and the eagle - bounding over scaur and chasm - leaping from cliff to crag, with the sure foot and the fearless head of the wild chamois - harrying the nests, and expelling from their eyries the fierce and savage monarchs of the feathered tribes.

Our hero alighted within a few yards of his noble spectators; and in the exercise of that bland courtesy inherent in his nature, and ever at his command, he saluted them with -

"Yer sarvint, genteels! How do ye like the jumping? eh!"

A person accustomed to his manner might have perceived a slight sarcastic curl lurking about the angles of the mouth, that betokened something like a readiness (if occasion offered) to indulge in bitterness of speech.

"Why," said Lord Caledon, (with the condescending dignity of a patron) "you are a most surprising fellow. I have never witnessed anything like your powers. We must allow you something handsome for your very superior and in fact astonishing agility."

The Clift was the child of nature: he could not hear, in any man, even the slightest approach to affectation or display; therefore, eyeing the Lord with the deepest scorn, he replied,

"Allow me something! Augh, wid all your goodness, sure ye might wait till I ax it. Allow me something! 'I beg yer honor's pardon,' as the wheelbarrow said to the coach, 'but just, if ye plaise, let me take my own coorse.' Allow me something! by my sowl, I'm no charity; but if I was, bad luck to all I would get from you! and that's clear - becase why, ye wudn't give the old beggarman a thraneen, do ye mind; but ye wud give a soople young fellow money, becase he made some sport! The divil run away wid such charity, and a merry amen, say I! When I am in need, I can go to a poor man like myself, and he'll share his bit and his sup wid a heart-and-a-half."

"Come, come, Hudy, my good friend," said the Colonel, anxious to soothe the rising temper of the Clift, "you must not be too severe: you know that in playing off your wild tricks this morning you tired his Lordship's patience, and put my own good nature to the test also."

"Augh, Colonel, by the powers, that's all pure gosther! He could have stapped my tongue wid a taisther, instead of 'charmin' me wid a horsewhip,' do ye mind. Bad luck to it, man, sure a boccagh has feelin's as well as a lord! They're both flesh and blood! aren't they? But that's still the way wid some of the great folks: they care as little for the poor as for brute bastes! By my sowl, I think they wud do little for God's sake if the divil was dead!"

During the rapid delivery of the Clift's piquant strictures, Lord Caledon was literally swelling with rage; while Lord O'Neill, tickled to the heart with a scene so novel and so droll, was bursting his sides with suppressed laughter. Giving vent to his indignation, the former Nobleman haughtily replied,

"Well, you are a most insulting and impertinent scoundrel! How dare you take such liberties with me?"

"Daar! Was it daar ye said? Whew! faix it's myself daar do more nor that! Words is but wind; but bad luck to me if I daarn't wallop a saucy fellow any day: and unfortunately I'm so stupid that I nivir could parsave the laste difference between a Lord and another man, except in the clothing, and after all the paycock's not an aigle, do ye mind."

"Well now Hudy," said the Colonel, again interposing, "I thought you had more respect for me than to wantonly insult my friends!"

"Respect for you! Aye, by my sowl, and that I have. Because why: divil a man in the county, barring myself, could sit a horse wid you; and when you plaise to raich your hand to a poor fellow, he can take your offering widout a grudge. There's no blaflums about it - it's sonsy, ye parsave, becase it comes from a good heart, do ye mind."

Lord O'Neill, then a young man, continued to enjoy the rich scene. He admired the proud sentiments, the easy natural independent bearing of the Clift; and, willing to leave him a mark of his approbation and respect, he drew forth a guinea and, advancing, said,

"Well, Hudy, would you have any objections to shake hands with me?"

"Would I shake hands wid you! Wid an O'Neill! Faix the king on the throne might be proud of the liberty! And, by my sowl, there's many liars if both Kings and Queens didn't think that same a compliment before now! Shake hands wid you! Blood-an-oundhers, wouldn't I lay the hair of my head anondher the feet of your father's son, if it would sarve him!"

"And can you generously forgive me, after having unfeelingly threatened to horsewhip the old beggarman?"

"To-be-sure I can! becase why: you're no upsthart - you're the Ould Stock: the proud heart, and the high hand; and divil a dhrap of Black Hugh's blood runs in your veins, if you would be afeard to keep your promise wid any man, lame or no lame."

Equally surprised and gratified with the respectful enthusiasm of our hero, his Lordship advanced and, forgetting the pride of his order, kindly said,

"Well, my brave fellow, we must shake hands, and happy were it for all classes in society were your noble sentiments duly esteemed and more generally cherished."

Then grasping the hand of the naked philosopher, with the grace and delicacy of gentle blood and good breeding, he deposited the guinea. The Clift, with some emotion, looked long and steadily at the coin - he raised his eye, and showed a flushed countenance, whose workings proved that thought was keenly combating thought in his excited brain. He paused - he hesitated - and then, with the instinctive pride of true nobility, he shewed, to the admiration of all, that he too understood how to confer a favor. With something of solemn dignity, he said,

"Well, upon my sowl, I'll not refuse you - I'll take the money, though divil a call I have for it; and bad luck to the pocket kind's about me to put it in, you parsave."

And with an arch smile he cast a glance over his own naked person.

"But," he continued in his subdued tone, "in thrath, your honor, I'm more plaised wid your warm squeeze nor fifty times your money, becase it shows you have the right feeling, and it minds me of ould times too; for faix it's not the first shake hands we have had, though upon my sowl I nivir did intend to mention it."

"Indeed, Hudy! why, you astonish me; but where, pray, had I that pleasure? I assure you the circumstance has quite escaped my memory."

"And no wonder, yer honor; but I'll nivir forget it till the day of judgment. It was when your father and Mr. Rowley bate the county, you parsave, at the election, and that was in '83. In thrath, it was the proudest sight that ever my eye lit on, when they were chairing the members from Carrickfergus to Belfast, and when you and your brother sat one on aich side of your father - ye were weeny chaps then, though, by the powers, you're a pair of whappers now - and he made you shake hands wid all about you, and myself was one of the number, and the blissin's of the people's hearts were upon you, and iviry one praised you, and was mad wid joy, and they said you would fill your father's cap, becase, you see, 'as the ould cock crows, the young wan larns.' Whew! bad luck to my sowl," and his eye kindled with enthusiastic feeling, "but ten thousand hearts would have bled that day, before wan hair of an O'Neill's head would have fallen! Becase, you see, your father was a jewel, and the people adored him, and well they might, for he was the poor man's friend; and it was himself that loved liberty, and ould Ireland!"

His Lordship was deeply affected by the simple relation, and by the feeling manner of the unsophisticated Clift. Emotions strong, though unintelligible, agitated his countenance; and, whatever may have been their nature, whatever reminiscences may have summoned them into play, it was evident he felt it difficult to repress them. Colonel Heyland was astonished and delighted at the fresh view thus afforded of the Clift's character. He had set him down as a mere reckless dare-devil, capable of performing extraordinary feats; but the deep feelings and proper sentiments evinced by him this day raised him much in his patron's estimation. Not so with Lord Caledon: the piquant sample he had had of Hudy's spirit was quite sufficient for him; and, not courting further acquaintance, he retired in deep dudgeon.

The crowd had imperceptibly collected, and were breathless and admiring auditors of the singular colloquy; but when the Clift, gratefully exhibiting the guinea, announced the bounty of the descendant of the Kings of Ulster, a loud burst of genuine applause convinced the young nobleman (and all who judged correctly) that the people never misconstrue nor undervalue a kind or magnanimous deed; but are anxious to manifest a lively gratitude whenever the conduct of their superiors at all warrants the expression of such generous feelings.

This page was last updated 10 Nov 2018