Hudy XVI

Chapter XVI - Hudy's Mother Goes Hunting

It is very questionable whether a brilliant genius and great attainments are at all conducive to the happiness of their possessors. The most gifted are not always the most contented. Why is this? Because, like Poor Richard's audience, they have to pay tribute - obliged to humour the whims of and dance attendance on their admirers. Thus it was with Hudy McGuigan. Unfortunately for his personal ease, his fame had travelled farther than his feet; he was known both far and near. There wasn't a day's sport on mountain or moor within twenty miles of his domicile but he, of necessity, must be one of the party. A gathering of any description was considered dull and insipid if not graced and enlivened by the high priest of fun and frolic; and therefore was it that a fox was never unbagged in any neighbouring locality without his receiving due and timely intimation; and it must be admitted that, ride who would and fall who would, he was invariably in at the death - and that was no wonder; for his horse - no, his mare - was so well trained, so well winded, and so admirably ridden, that no ordinary sportsman had any chance with him. Whew! yer sowls, when the blood was up, at the first leap, off he would dart like an arrow, in his flesh-coloured tights - with his favorite head-dress, a military helmet, cutting the wind - leading the chase in the most gallant style, and quite the admiration of all the spectators.

On a certain occasion, a fox-hunt had been appointed by the gentlemen of his own darling mirth-loving district, and, as is natural to suppose, our hero was in high feather. For days previously he was to be seen, not on the tip-toe of expectation, but skipping about like an antelope, enjoying by anticipation the delights of the coming scene. But reader, we pray you not to mistake the cause - this glorious state of excitement arose not from indulging in draughts of "the Irish nectar" - by no means: Hudy had at all times been perfectly abstemious, in fact he was totally tee-total for half a century before tee-totalism had either "a local habitation or a name". Now bred as he had been

Amang stills, and gills, an whiskey stoups

we confess this was a singular partiality; poh! - want of partiality is the fitting expression; and further, we confess that to account for which puzzles our poor philosophy - but certain it is he never touched a drop, and equally certain it is he required no stimulant; for nature, to crown her rare gifts, had supplied him with a superabundance of spirits. Perhaps this solves the mystery. But - speculation to the winds.

The great, the important day, at length arrived, and a goodly collection of bipeds and quadrupeds was early at the appointed place; and as the weather was fine, all the respectability, both male and female, of the surrounding country were in attendance, either as spectators or as participators in the sport. It so happened that an ermined judge of the present day, then a young counsellor, was on the ground; his brother, afterwards a general in the British army, was by his side; and another brother, an Archdeacon in the Protestant Church, came there to give the sanction of his name and his hearty benediction to the joyous proceedings. This party did not lack ladies. The fairest in the land hung around the representatives of the Bar, the Army, and the Church, and appeared to take a warm interest in the scene - and a gallant spirit-stirring sight it was.

The gentlemen in their red coats and white breeches - the fine fiery steeds straining upon the bit, as deeply excited as their riders, pawing the earth with impatience, gracefully exhibiting their various gaits in obedience to the whim or vanity of their masters: caprioling, corvetting, croupading, balotading, to the infinite delight of the connoisseurs in horsemanship; - and then the huntsmen and whippers-in, with all the importance of officials, clearing the grounds, adjusting the order of starting, restraining the melody of the beagles, and performing various other important duties; while the vast crowds topping the surrounding hills and anxiously awaiting the approaching hour gave a varied and lively finish to the animating scene.

Yet strange to say, in the very acme of excitement, while expectation was on the rack, disappointment was legibly written on many a countenance, and many a neck was outstretched and many an eye anxiously strained in a certain direction. What could be the reason? Why, simply that, contrary to his usual custom, Hudy McGuigan was absent from his post! And where in the name of wonder was he? Well, not to detain you, he was rapidly making his way to the starting point.

That morning, while preparing for the hunt, and just in the act of rubbing down his docile and hardy little mare Shela, that, in his own parlance, "could do every thing at his biddin', except spake", his mother approached, and with sharpened curiosity inquired whither he was going.

"To the hunt, mother darlin'," was the ready reply, "an' shure it's fine fun we'll have, if the day houlds."

"Arrah Hudy avick," said the old lady with evident interest, "many's the time ye promised yer ould mother a ride, and ne'er a wan ivir ye give her yet, an' shure ye might jist take me up behint ye this fine mornin', an' maybe ye would let me see the hunt into the bargain."

The bright eye of the Quarterclift flashed with delight. His brain, ever open to mischief, saw a field unexpectedly offer for a new freak: his brilliant imagination, with the lighting power of genius, grouped a thousand bright scenes; and at the expense even of his mother, he resolved to make the most of the golden opportunity; so, rapidly taking up the word, he exclaimed:

"Nivir say't again, mother darlin'; by dad and by deed ye're a thousand times welcome, and Shela's the craythur'll carry us both in style! The divil a pair at the hunt'll be betther mounted, do ye mind; so jist throw yer shawl about ye, an' Shela'll be ready before ye could say thrap-sticks."

With the utmost glee, off ran Mrs McGuigan for the shawl. Her unusual hurry attracted the attention of her grave partner; and Jack Roe, lifting his eye with much dignity, rather sternly asked -

"What hurry are ye in now, Jenny?"

"Faix Jack aroon, I'm goin' to see the hunt. Hudy's goin' to take me behint him."

"In thrath then it would be little matther ye would both bre'k yer necks. It's an ould sayin', 'they run hard that the divil dhrives'. By my sowl ye'll be sarry for that race, take my word for it."

"Divil a fear's, Jack avourneen."

And off she darted to her hopeful son, whom she found ready mounted, with helmet on head, spurs on the bare heels, and quite unencumbered by any other article of dress (save his "buckskin tights"), politely waiting for his "darlin' mother".

"Down! Shela, ma vourneen, an' let my mother mount."

Pop went the mare upon her hams and knees, and patiently waited till the old lady had firmly seated herself behind her son.

"Spring to yer bathers! my pet," said Hudy to the mare, and up she started with her accustomed docile sagacity.

"An' now mother darlin', throw yer shawl round both yerself an' me, for fear of accidents."

"I will, ma bouchal bawn," - and it was done.

He then fixed the shawl securely under his mother's arms, tied her tightly to his own body, and speaking to the mare he said -

"Throw fram ye, Shela my beauty - aisy now - aisy, an' bring yerself gently into wind; for by my own sowl, there's a day's work in airnest before ye."

The mare made a spring - the old woman, under the influence of surprise and delight, gave a roar of a laugh indicative of both feelings - and away they went for the scene of action at the rate of a gentle sling. Hudy, with the gaiety of the lark, singing one of his favorite sporting ditties, and dropping in occasionally some explanatory notes for the edification of his heroic mother, - which song and notes we cannot resist the temptation of transcribing:

Augh the riders bein' mounted in scarlet an' blue,
Like two claps of thunder together they flew,
An' all the spectathors, that were gazing around,
Would swear in their hearts that they scarce touched the ground;
But jist as they were about the middle of the coorse,
Skewball, to his rider, begun this discoorse -

("It was the divil in the shape of a horse, do ye mind, an' the rider had sould himself to him for the sake of winnin' the race. - But I'll begin the varse again-")

But jist as they were about the middle of the coorse,
Skewball, to his rider, begun this discoorse -
'I say, noble rider, look backwards and see
How far is Miss Portly this moment from me.'
The rider looked backwards, and said, wid a smile,
'Miss Portly's behint ye a large English mile.'

"But by the powers if I had been her rider it wouldn't have been the case; for I'd have stuck a four-laved shamrock in her head-stall; an' then - whew! - I could defy the divil an' the witch o' Endhor; - by my sowl they'd play none of their jukery pawkery on me, do ye mind!"

Just however about this time the fox was brought out. The excitement amongst the sportsmen was at its height, when a wild triumphant shout of joy broke from the crowd on the surrounding heights; and "Hudy McGuigan!" "Hudy McGuigan!" burst from a thousand throats as our hero, with his extraordinary appendage, was seen sweeping rapidly round the base of an adjoining hill. A few minutes, and off went Reynard "as fresh as a daisy" - another wild simultaneous shout from the motley multitude; and then the baying of the beagles - the sounding of the horns - the neighing and prancing of the impatient horses - the hallooing and tallyhoing of the rushing crowd might have argued to the uninitiated the immediate wreck of this our little world. But away, and away, went the fox and his ardent pursuers, and away, and away, went Hudy McGuigan and his "darlin' mother" slap-dash among the foremost.

Any person who has ever witnessed a fox-hunt, even under ordinary circumstances, will admit that "barrin' a reglar built scrimmage" few scenes are more spirit-stirring; but to describe the one in question! - Poh! - the very fancy that threw off such brilliant creations as a Falstaff or a Caliban would fail in doing justice to the reality of the scene before us. Hudy however, amidst the usual din so uproariously increased by peals of laughter, kept driving forward, at the same time cheering, encouraging, and talking alternately to his mother and the little mare.

"Throw fram ye Shela - throw fram ye clivirly an' head them!" "Augh mother, isn't it a darlin' hunt?" "Straitch to it like an eel, my wee jewel!" "Blood-an-oundhers, mother, but she runs smooth! - by my sowl ye're as comfortable on her back as in an arm-chair." "That's the way my wee pet! - Snake an for five minutes an' we're foremost!"

But Mrs McGuigan (once beautiful, now rather a large raw-boned smoke-dried old lady), though generally concurring in opinion with her son, did not entirely entertain his views on the score of comfort. Bewildered by the scene, and fatigued with the unusual exercise, she felt rather out of conceit with her ride; so in reply to one of his exclamations of delight she said -

"Well upon my conscience, Hudy, I'm beginning to think yer father wasn't far wrong - he tould me I would rue my ride. By my sowl I wish I was at home."

"Bido hocht, mother darlin' - home was nivir like this, do ye mind."

And a chuckling laugh, more expressive of pleasure than sympathy in his mother's feelings, escaped the Clift. Irritated by his irreverent manner, she sung out at the top of her voice,

"Let me down Hudy, I say!"

But Hudy took it into his head to be deaf. She changed her tack:

"Let me down Hudy acushla - for the love of marcy let me down."

Touched, perhaps, by her plaintive tone, he recovered his hearing and replied -

"Och mother darlin', by my sowl and that same would pass my thumb jist now; but hould fast I say - whew! by the powers, here's a hedge!"

The mare was heading gallantly - Mrs McGuigan screaming with terror - Hudy, considerately, threw his arm around his mother - "Now for it, Shela ma vourneen!" Dash went the spurs - "whew yer sowls! the first lape, an' first cleared! Capityal! my wee beauty. By my sowl some of them'll be bothered at that jump. Augh it's yerself can show the gentlemen yer four shoes." And onward they went; but not a few of those who followed were indeed bothered at the hedge. Some came heavily rasping through it; some shyed; others half leaped half clambered over it, giving their riders the honor of passing rather rapidly on before them; - but forward went Hudy, more proud than ever of the sustaining energy of his little mare. The ground over which they were now passing was something on the rough side; and what with the fatigue, and what with the terror of falling, Mrs McGuigan fairly lost patience, and roared out in a towering passion,

"Augh mile murdher, Hudy, you villain, let me down, or ye'll brake iviry bone in my ould carcage!"

"Bad luck to the fears, mother darlin'. Hould fast an' tight an' ye'll get a ride to yer heart's content; an' what's more nor all that, by my sowl I'll be boun' ye'll be first in at the death."

It is not to be supposed that Mrs McGuigan was at all acquainted with the technicalities of the sportsman; nor is it to be wondered at that under her deep nervous alarm she should mistake her son's meaning. She did misunderstand him; and in her extreme terror roared aloud -

"Help! help! gentlemen dear - Murdher! murdher! Arrah Hudy, ye unnathrel baste, could ye have the heart to put yer poor ould mother to death?"

"Augh blood-an-oundhers woman, will ye hould yer wheesht; - was ivir the likes h'ard! By my sowl ye have lost yer raison! Shure it's only the death of the fox I'm talkin' about. But sit fast for here's a ditch - whew! - Shela my beauty!"

A touch of the spurs, an encouraging cheer, and over they went.

"Capityal again my wee jewel; let me see if the switch-tails 'll follow that."

At this peculiar time our trio had gallantly headed the whole troop, and were rapidly brushing past a stand occupied by the party of ladies and gentlemen already mentioned. With much pleasure they had marked the progress of the sport, and admired the noble efforts of the spirited chargers, as well as the skill and daring of their fearless riders - but their interest in the scene was increased when they beheld

A horseman darting from the crowd,
Like lightning from a summer cloud,
Spurring his mettled courser proud,
Before the bright array.

Their interest, however, swelled into sheer amazement when Shela and her riders hove fairly in view - when they saw the fine little animal boldly taking, and making good, the leaps! One of the gentlemen, totally bewildered, exclaimed -

"In the name of all that is lovely and ludicrous, who is that naked savage with the Egyptian mummy strapped to his body?"

A countryman standing by archly replied,

"Och yer honor, shure that's Hudy McGuigan and his mother."

"Hudy McGuigan! - Hudy McGuigan! - what an admirably fitting name for the man. But who is Hudy McGuigan?"

"Och faix then yer honor, he's - he's - he's - jist Hudy McGuigan!"

"A rich and racy reply! Thank you for your information, my friend. But is the man mad?"

"The divil a mad nor mad an him - though faix the people thinks that sometimes he wants three squares of bein' round!"

"Good again," exclaimed the counsellor, in a fit of laughter that brought the tears to his eyes, while the rest of the party, perfectly convulsed, clung to each other for support - the (afterwards) general roaring out in ecstasy -

"Hurra for old Ireland! ever foremost in fun, frolic, and gallantry! I challenge any nation in the world to fellow me that one sight!"

We do not presume to speculate upon the feelings of the ladies, though some of their male friends declared, maliciously no doubt, that during the momentary continuance of the exciting spectacle, curiosity was evidently the predominant passion.

But away, and away, went the whole party ging bang, Shela still gallantly maintaining the lead - our hero hurraing - his mother screaming in her son's ears:

"Let me down! Hudy avick - let me down, ye vagabone!"

The gentlemen loudly cheering, and faithfully following in the wake of their leaders - the huntsmen heartily cursing "the idiots" for spoiling the sport - the hounds giving most melodious tongue, and reynard practising all his subtleties to elude pursuit; but it was "no go" with him, for Hudy was on the trail, and all the fox's wiles and tricks were successfully counteracted by the sportsman-like skill and sagacity of our hero. Another leap, however, and another - another, and another - and Shela still nobly led the party, while Mrs McGuigan tenaciously held her seat by the powerful instrumentality of her son's arm; and after a ten miles run over a fine sporting country, reynard was seized, saved, and rebagged, through the dexterity of our hero, who came up at the critical moment, untied the knots of the shawl, sprung from before the old lady, and rescued the fox - at the expense of his mother who, giddy and bewildered, fell heavily to the ground. She was bothered a good deal by the shock; but soon recovering, and looking wildly around her, she exclaimed, as well as a deep and somewhat exhausted kind of breathing would permit,

"Augh mile murdher boys darlin's, an' am I alive afther all?"

"'Alive, an' live like' by my sowl, mother avourneen, as the man said of the cockles - an' didn't I dacently keep my promise to ye now - didn't I give ye a ride to yer heart's contint? - an' I'm sure ye'll allow that ye saw the hunt into the bargain!" said the Clift with a humorous chuckle.

"Augh the curse o' Cromwell upon ye for a born idiot, is it laughin' at yer poor ould mother ye are, and iviry bone in her body achin' wid your mad frakes? Bad luck attend ye by night and by day, ye graceless Quarterclift."

This page was last updated 9 Nov 2018