Hudy XV

Chapter XV - Hudy in Coventry

What a pity it is that great minds should have their weak points! Yet so it is. And in the end, perhaps the thing is fitting. Were it otherwise, we might be subjected to a thousand ills which in our present condition we neither feel nor dream of. Why, the world would be scorched by the prideful blaze of genius; so we are content to think with Pope, in his reasoning on the state of man as a component part of the natural world, that

In spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,
One truth is plain, whatever is, is right.

How could it be otherwise? - that which a Deity has ordained must be right; therefore it is clearly necessary, to the correction of our vanity, that we should bear about us some friendly monitor - some sure and palpable badge of our humanity. Uninterrupted success would turn the head of any mortal, and make him culpably forgetful of his high paternal descent, as well as the base origin which he claims, reluctantly, from his mother earth.

The career of Napoleon Buonaprte verifies our reflections. There were no bounds to his ambition. He forgot his mortality: onward he dashed, like a mad young colt just escaped from the mews; overreached himself on his Russian campaign; fell a victim to his own inordinate pride; and perished on a barren rock, less by the virulence of his reputed disease - a cancer in the stomach - than by the incessant gnawings of the "worm that never dieth", a seared and troubled conscience.

Such fate ambition waits.

But Napoleon is not the only example we can adduce: Hudy McGuigan, in his outrage on his own parish Priest, made a false step also, though fortunately not a fatal one; and if the elements, as in the case of his great competitor, did not war against him, another and a mightier power taught him a little humility. In the days we speak of, political economy, as a science, was but little cultivated; it was unknown in our schools and colleges; even old Trinity, as she now may, could not then boast of her Butt; it cannot therefore be expected that the Quarterclift had made it his peculiar study; nor can we aver that he ever bothered his brain about our admirably balanced constitution - that he knew aught of the duties, rights and prerogatives of the three estates, or the nice little check-strings that the one may pull to check the overbearings of the others. We will not affirm that he was at all aware of the vast influence exercised by the fourth estate, "the best possible instructors", our masters of "the broad sheet"; nor of a power infinitely superior to all, and of which "the press" is merely the organ. No, he never calculated the power of public opinion: it was his fate, however, to feel it,

Not in its gorgon terrors clad,
Nor circled with the vengeful band,

but so mildly as not to crush his energies, yet so effectually as to teach him modesty.

His abduction of the Priest had shocked the better feelings and roused the indignation of the entire rural community. Not a soul in the district that did not combine, as if by stipulated and universal convention, to punish the outrage. Hudy was consigned to coventry!

Had his evil genius been plotting for centuries, he could not have struck upon a plan more admirable for wounding him to the very quick. Born to grace and enliven society, he could not exist without social intercourse; nor indeed did he value life a farthing, deprived of its best blessing - a free and kindly communion with his species. His mind thus constituted, what must have been his astonishment to find himself shunned by his acquaintances, by his earliest and most intimate associates, as if he carried the plague spot on his forehead! The stricken deer is not more lonely, not more consciously dejected, than was Hudy McGuigan for weeks, yea months, after the accomplishment of an exploit which he rightly considered a master-stroke, well entitled to the applause of all who beheld it. He could not account for the cold neglect, the marked impoliteness, of his friends. He felt miserable. - His brilliant talents falling into decay, he found himself

cut off from glory's course,
Which never mortal was so fond to run.

"Whew! bad luck to me," said the Clift, bursting from a fit of gloomy melancholy abstraction one day in his father's cabin, "if I know well what to do wid myself."

His mother had witnessed with painful sensibility his altered bearing, yet refrained from questioning him on the subject: but now that an open was afforded, she embraced the opportunity, and with much solicitude inquired -

"Arrah, what has come over you, Hudy, acushla? Faix myself can't stand your bad spirits, aroon."

"Bad scran to me, mother darlin', if I can tell, except that divil a living sowl will spake to me, go where I will, an' that's it I think, do ye mind."

"Is that all avick, mavourneen?"

"Aye, is that all! by the powers, it's enough, and more."

"Bido hocht! thank God, that's aisy got over, ma bouchal!"

"Maybe aye, and maybe yes; but by the powers, it bothers me any how. Divil ride over the omadhons, wid inch cawkers on his hooves; what makes them turn up their snouts at me? Faix it's althered days: they used to be coorting my company; but by my sowl when I meet wan of them now, he'll send as if he was taking the windy side of a seven-year-old brock, do ye mind."

"And bad luck to ye for a senseless omadhon," said his grave and dignified father, "sure the raison's plain, and well ye desarve the thraitment: ye had no business to meddle wid the ould kindly sogarth - ye couldn't have luck after it, do ye mind. But you and your mother's a pair of Clifts any how, and was all yer days, and many's the time I tould ye so."

"Whew! by the powers, father acushla, you have jist hit it! Bad scran to my stupid skull! Blood-an-oundhers! Well in thrath father, that jab would have been as well undone after all, do ye mind! - But divil-may-care; I have the sacret now, and maybe I won't play the first I meet."

It was not long till he met with many an old friend; but all his ingenuity to provoke conversation, and recover his lost influence, was unavailing. The people sternly maintained their resolution. Go where he would, to fair or market, wake or funeral, not a soul would accost or deign to reply to a salute from Hudy McGuigan. He was fairly at his wits' end. Hope was extinct in his bosom, and he relinquished all further attempts to dispel the dense cloud that with saddening influence hung over his devoted head.

Yet, deprived as he was of all the joys and blessings of society, he had his resources. No man ever could boast of more. In the loneliness of his spirit, cut off from human intercourse, he turned his attention to the gifts so munificently bestowed by Colonel Heyland, and began to exercise his skill in training his mare and foal. Of the former, however, he could make but little, "becase why," as he rightly observed, "it wasn't aisy to taich an ould dog new thricks"; but the latter he found so docile and so tractable that he was greatly compensated for the indignities heaped upon him by his stubborn neighbours. In a short time Shela (the name bestowed on his young mare) would have followed him like a dog wherever he went, would have answered his whistle and obeyed his every command with a ready intelligence; which might have afforded a fresh argument to the materialist, in his wild speculation as to the amount of knowledge bestowed by the Creator on the irrational tribes. Before she was old enough to carry weight, it was his practice to lead her out to the fields for exercise along with his dogs; and off would the party start over hedges and ditches, the little mare following in her tutor's footsteps and taking, and cleverly making good, every leap, no matter how difficult, when he set the example.

It was rather a singular though very frequent sight to behold Shela frolicking and sporting with the dogs, like one of their own species; or when the fox or the hare would start, pursuing in hot chase, as if the instinct of the hound had in her instance been added to the natural gifts of the horse. Was it any wonder that the Clift loved his "wee beauty" more than any living thing? No, it was quite natural; and never did Arab treat his favorite charger with greater kindness and humanity, and never did one of that far-famed breed of horses more markedly reciprocate his master's feeling, or exhibit an instinct more nearly allied to reason. In a word, Hudy and Shela had no fellows.

Out of evil good may sometimes be extracted. Now that is a maxim the truth of which has been proved and felt by thousands. It requires no proof; but had not the Clift been consigned to coventry, it is more than likely he never would have found time to cultivate Shela's powers; and consequently, as the sequel of our story will show, some of his own proudest deeds had been lost to fame. But he was still in disgrace when one morning he chanced to meet an old steady and much-respected farmer on his way to the forge. Forgetting the interdict, Hudy, in the natural gaiety of his temper, accosted him with -

"Augh good morrow, Shamus! Faix a sight of ye's good for sore eyes! By the powers it's an age since I saw ye."

The old man stopped, hesitated, coloured. The Clift saw his confusion, and immediately his mind was thrown back upon his own unpleasant condition. He stood in the presence of the Priest's most sincere friend; yet with something like a kindling passion he addressed him -

"I say, Shamus O'Higgins, why don't ye spake to me? Ye know I have a respect for ye. Bad luck to me, but I would fear yer crass look more nor the full of five fairs of the gomerils that passes me by iviry day as if they hadn't a tongue in their cheek."

"I shouldn't spake to ye, Hudy! but I will, and may be it'll do no harm afther all. Ye traited the sogarth badly, that was a father to us all; and iviry wan that loves or respects him - an' that's iviry wan that knows him - is more offended wid ye nor if ye had played yer wild thricks off on himself; and we're all determined nivir to spake to ye friendly till ye ax the sogarth's pardon, and till he's plaised to forgive ye."

"Augh Shamus, an' is that the way the land lies? An' they'll not spake to me! bad luck to th'ir sowls an' bodies for a pack of heepocreets - there's not a man among them as sorry for the thrick as myself is. Augh but they're mighty fand of the sogarth! The divil a wan of them would sarve him wid as good a heart as I would. But upon my sowl I'll ax his pardon in downright airnest: not to curry favor wid them, do ye mind; but becase it's right, and becase I think it would plaise ye. Ban scran to it man, why didn't ye tell me sooner? Blood-an-oundhers! how will I face him! but divil mend me, I desarve all I'll get and more. Will ye go along wid me Shamus?"

"In thrath I will Hudy, and I'm proud of the journey, becase I'm heartily plaised wid yer good intentions; so just let us be aff this blissid moment."

And away they went on their reconciliation tour. The Clergyman's kindly feelings rendered him accessible to all his parishioners; but in an especial manner to Shamus O'Higgins, whose well-regulated life had been one of pure edification to his neighbours, and who was esteemed by all who knew him, with a degree of reverence second only to that which they entertained for their good pastor. The Clift's offence had been so deep and so outrageous that Shamus scarcely knew how to enter upon his business. He felt more constraint than he ever experienced before, though his missions of peace to the Priest had certainly not been unfrequent. He resolved however upon a private interview, and was received with great urbanity.

"Well my good friend," said the Priest, "you seldom do me the favor of a visit save upon business; and I dare say such is the case at present."

"In thrath, yer rivirence is right - an' I hardly know how to begin; but I was thinking that one of the eight Beatitudes is 'Blissid are the peacemakers'."

"Yes, Shamus, it is one of them, and one that should bring deep consolation to your breast."

"Augh faix I don't know, sogarth - I fear I have little to boast of there - I nivir was a lover of strife, to be sure; but any trifle of good I did in that way was more to gratify my own feelings, I doubt, nor for the pure love of God."

"Well Shamus, I won't press that point. One thing is certain, your father who is in heaven will not fail in his reward. But what is your business?"

"In thrath then, yer reverence, it's just to see if I could saften ye a bit about Hudy McGuigan."

A cloud passed across the usually serene brow of the amiable Clergyman as he replied -

"Well Shamus, after knowing me for such a length of time, I am surprised and grieved that you should mistake my character so much. What am I, that I should retain anger against one of God's creatures, particularly one who is not really accountable? I have no need to be softened with regard to Hudy - I have forgiven him long since."

"Well sogarth, ye'll forgive me too. Faix I thought human nature might still have a hould on ye. Dear knows it wasn't aisy to forget what ye suffered; but Hudy's standing widout; maybe ye would let the cratur come in an' ax yer pardon; for in thrath he's vexed for what he did."

"To be sure, Shamus! call him in."

And the Clift was received by the Priest with an outstretched hand, and a look that anticipated the tongue in announcing a perfect forgiveness. But Hudy shrunk back abashed, and in his humbled accents said -

"Aisy a bit, sogarth aroon - I'm not ready yet, do ye mind. I'll shake no hands till I do what I should have done long ago. I'm come to ax yer pardon; an' the more I don't go an my knees, upon my sowl, I do ax yer pardon, an' God's pardon, from the bottom of my heart, do ye mind."

"And I forgive you freely, Hudy, as I hope to be forgiven myself; and God will pardon you that, as well as every other folly, if you only ask in humility and singleness of heart. So now we will shake hands, and be as good friends as ever."

"Well upon my sowl I will, becase why, ye have taken a load off my heart that might have lay there till the day of judgment, if it hadn't been for honest Shamus O'Higgins there, God bliss him. Ne'er a wan in the parish had the kindliness to tell me what was right but himself; though, bad scran to my own stupid skull, I might have had the gumption enough to think of it for myself; but by the powers the divil was too busy wid me, do ye mind!"

"Well Hudy, go home now, and endeavour in future to avoid all places where your hot temper may lead you into any thing like strife or dissension."

"Well in thrath sogarth, I'll take yer bidding, as far as I can; an' upon my sowl, an' that's an oath sworn, I'll try an' watch myself; an' faix it's not aisy, except I would stay at home althegither; an' bad scran to me if that would do ayther, for if I wouldn't go to the splores, upon my sowl I think they would come to me - an' that's the naked thruth, do ye mind."

The news of Hudy's reconciliation with his Clergyman was received with the utmost delight, and he was placed upon his former footing with the people; but, much to their disappointment, he chose to stand upon his dignity. Whether it was that he made it a point to fulfil his promise to the Priest, or that the indignities he received during the period of his disgrace had disgusted him with his former friends, we have no means of determining; but certain it is he did for a considerable length of time refrain from all public meetings, devoting his time and talents to the cultivation of the wonderful instinctive gifts (to mark them by no loftier epithet) that had been bestowed on Shela. By the time she was able to start at the hunt, or take her place on the race-course, she would have fondled with him, played tricks upon him, carried his helmet, or fought for him, with as much gaiety, spirit, and fidelity as ever did any of his human admirers. He had bestowed much pains and labour on her training, but he had his reward - for she elevated him in the scale of society - she raised him to the equestrian order; he was conscious of the ennobling fact, and was careful of her as the apple of his eye.

But old habits are not easily forgotten. Their influence, combined with a design to exhibit the surprising powers of his little mare, facilitated his re-entrance into the busy world; and Hudy and Shela, once fairly on the stage, soon became equally famous. In short, their exploits were as familiar throughout the barony as household words; and their presence became as indispensably necessary at every fox hunt as that of the master himself.

But was his fame confined to the narrow limits of the barony of Loughinsholin? Poh!

Ware you ivir at Ballinderry -
Ware you ivir at Magheralin -
Ware you ivir at Shane's Castle harbour,
Where the boats come rowling in?

Were you ever at Carntaugher, or Benbradden, or the Hen's Leap, or Collin Mountain, or the Black Hill? Did you ever enjoy the delights of the chase in any of these celebrated localities? Because if you did, you couldn't meet a lover of the ludicrous, or an old sportsman of any kidney, unacquainted with the wild pranks and extraordinary daring of Hudy McGuigan; besides, his surpassing skill and unparalleled success in pursuit of the game were equally matters of notoriety to all of his day that ever unleashed a hound or let a hawk down the wind in any of the above-mentioned places; - oh yes; and we take the liberty of adding that some of our Belfast veteran sportsmen could bear ample testimony to his astonishing activity, his unflagging energy, his keen eye, and the admirable training of his unequalled dogs.

Yes good reader, his dogs (a species of livestock which, by the way, we should have previously noticed he delighted much in collecting); for he seldom took a ramble through the country unattended by less than a score of canine pets, all of the best breed the province could produce, whether pointers, beagles, or greyhounds - a costly retinue, you will naturally say! By no means - you are perfectly out in such a supposition; for Hudy, like the Chancellor of the Exchequer, had his ways and means for providing for his dependants; and, to use his own expressive words in solving the mystery: "Their keep cost him yearly what Davy shot at the Lough - and that was divil sweep all, do ye mind!", for he was in the habit of billeting his "darlin's" on the best of the land, and as arbitrarily too as ever did British General during "the booty and beauty reign" quarter his hounds on the unfortunate Irish householder. The only difference was that Hudy's troops were welcome, were well received and well treated; and whenever their services were required, a whistle on his finger would bring them bounding about him with more joy and alacrity than ever came "the great bay dogs of the courtal Friar of Fountaindale" around their master.

Now who that has traced our hero thus far will venture to deny that he was a very important personage, or deem it strange that he should be perfectly aware of his own high standing. He was so - we admit the fact. Like Owen Glendower, the Welsh Chieftain, he felt, and with dignity maintained, that

He was not of the race of common men.

And if he occasionally assumed some lofty airs, it should not excite our surprise; for from the day on which frolicsome Madam Nature cast his nativity till the present, the devil a fellow for Hudy McGuigan did ever the same prolific old lady produce.

This page was last updated 7 Nov 2018