The whiteboy : a story of Ireland

Front matter

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J83." PICPAPUIY.. 1

CHAPMAN & HALL'S

Introduction To "the Whiteboy."

Those who read this Book are entreated to bear in mind that it was written several years ago, and that it has reference to the state of Ireland between thirty and forty years back.

Tilings have been very greatly changed since then : happily a large proportion of the evils dwelt upon are now only matters of History : the " Middlemen " — sources of incalculable miseries — have almost entirely disappeared : easy and frequent intercourse between the " sister countries " has dispelled many prejudices : England has learned to treat Ireland, not alone with justice, but with sympathy : various circumstances have combined to render " the bit of land" no longer an object of perpetual death-struggle : the landlord has growu more considerate, and the labourer better contented — because better encouraged, better treated, and better recompensed ; and it can no longer be deemed a vain hope — the hope which sees in Ireland, at no far off period, the right arm of England : all its vast natural resources developed under the fostering care, and aided by the fertilising capital of the English people — the people of the two countries becoming truly and emphatically one.

January, 1855,

THE WHITEBOY.

Chapter I. The Voyage

Eablt in the month of June, in the year 1822, one of the first steam-boats that voyaged between England and Ireland, was moving along the narrow Avon. The deck was thronged with passengers, watching and commenting upon the long pennon-like line of smoke, that indicated a headwind ; in spite of which they were told they might reach the Irish coast before the next day's sunset —intelligence that appeared incredible to some, who had been accustomed to many mischances between the ports of Bristol and Cork— " puttings in and puttings back "—while others found it difficult to believe that a voyage hitherto considered an intolerable evil could be converted into a brief party of pleasure ; its duration, a matter of certainty ; subjected to few annoyances, no peril, and, in reality, less fatigue than the journey would have caused if the two countries were joined by a bridge across St. George's Channel. The evenin0, was so mild and genial, that the ladies continued to linger on deck long after they had passed the entrance of the picturesque river, and the shores of Wales and Devon were growing dim in the approaching twilight. _ The passengers, as usual were divided into small knots ; turning their thoughts to anv subject in the hope of avoiding, or at least postponing, the •nivment of a tax extorted from all who are new to ocean dangers. As the ni°ht drew on, the less daring gradually disappeared, the d ok became thinner and thinner, and the few who remained, A determined to enjoy the invigorating sea-breeze, and the tie li°ht of the new moon, as far preferable to the close atmof 6b re and limited space of the over-crowded cabin.

A on0, them was a lady whose interest was apparently absorbed h the motion of the paddle-wheels, which she appeared to watch Py ,1 a3 she leaned over the side of the vessel. She was a mten y^idow— the Lady Mary O'Brien— the relief of a disyoung ^ 0ffrcer, whom she had accompanied to Madeira, hoping tingui c^a^e might arrest the progress of a disease, the seeds of which had been sown while in honourable service in the Peninsula. The effort was vain ; the attempt only hastened his dissolution ; his body was consigned to the waves before the shores of the health-giving island were reached, and the bereaved wife returned alone to England. England, however, was not her country; her sojourn there was brief; she was now proceeding homeward to shelter in her father's house. Lady Mary was accompanied by her brother, a fine youth verging on manhood ; a casual observer might have conjectured that she had another companion also— a gentleman, who, though not a relative, was probably a familiar friend, privileged to stand by her side, and, at times, monopolise her conversation.

"And you think I shall be disappointed in my expectation of Ireland ? " he said, in answer to some observation of the Lady Mary, as she looked suddenly up from the foaming waters.

"Yes," she replied, "you will be disappointed; I am sure of that."

" With the peasantry ? "

"No ; those who rate them very high, are not likely to overrate them."

" With the aspect of the country ? "

" Possibly ; but not with its scenic beauty."

"With society in general?" continued the gentleman, in the same tone of inquiry.

"I really do not so well know what you expect from 'Irish society in general,' as to be able to answer that question. You may ' expect ' to be vastly amused by the brogue and the blunders. rou may ' expect ' every young lady to be a diverting hoyden, and every gentleman a good shot. You may ' expect ' wit and starvation to greet your arrival. You may ' expect ' to find Spencer Court reduced to a heap of ruins by the Whiteboys, who have lately furnished so many ' daring outrages' to greedy newspapers. You may ' expect ' to be called out by a brother because you danced with his sister twice on one evening — without proposing. In your simplicity you may ' expect ' to find a humane middleman; a grand jury incapable of jobbing; land let at a reasonable rent ; but — " and while she paused to laugh, the expression of her face changed from that of the most provoking espieglerie to one serious and full of intelligence, "but you are of course aware that two religious and political parties divide the island ; two, born on the same land, yet agreeing in one thing only — the hatred they bear each other."

"I do hope you are not rightly informed," said the young Englishman.

"Alas! I am," she answered. "We are two nations on one soil ; Celt and Saxon, Roman and Protestant, Irish Irish and English Irish ; in England you do not understand this ; but we do ; perhaps you may — after a time. There may be individual exceptions — I thank God there are, and many ; but the part es hate each other ; and be+wpen them, which to cleave to, and which to shun, you will be speedily called to make election ; be sure of that. I have smiled over what you said a few minutes ago — that you intend to live in Ireland, and belong to no party."

Mr. Spencer drew a seat close to that of the Lady Mary, and assumed the look of a man determined to record his resolve and assign his reasons for it.

But the lady was in no mood to listen. "'No," she said, "I have already heard enough ; you are one of the ' inconvinceables,' and I anticipate much amusement from the delightful perplexities you will have to encounter. The idea of Mr. Spencer, of Spencer Court (some Castle Dangerous of the south), and of many hard cold, Scottish acres in Donegall, being permitted by our mercuria\ people to do as he pleases ; to dream of being allowed to steer a middle course, undulating between orange and green, with a leaf of our southern shamrock in one button-hole, and a petal of the northern lily in the other, dancing down the middle with an Orangeman on his right hand and a "Whiteboy on his left, then up again with the Whiteboy on his right and the Orangeman on his left ! — it is really too ridiculous. I repeat, you do not seem to consider — perhaps you do not know — that we are two people — the Anglo- Irish, and — " her lip curled a little as she spoke it — " the mere Irish ; two religions ; yet your wise lawgivers will legislate for us as if we were one people and one religion. And you think to progress among us just as calmly as you have done among your well-fed, well-clothed tenants in sunny Berkshire, where peace and plenty, and a score of other comforts, have made the rich contented, and the poor prosperous — each being the helpmate of the other."

" But, my dear Lady Mary," he interrupted, " I am convinced it is only a calm and moderate, yet a fixed and steady, middle course that can be beneficial to Ireland."

" Granted," replied the lady, " but at the moment I was thinking of you, and not of the country. Nay, you need not bow ; I was only thinking how absurd a moderate man would appear among our immoderate people ; thinking, moreover, who the magician is, or what the miracle will be, that can make a middle course popular."

" I do not think," replied Mr. Spencer, looking more than usually serious, " I do not think a resolve to persevere in what I honestly consider the only system that can be attended with desirable results to the country, however it may inflict pain and injury on myself, deserves to be noted as absurd. I am visiting Ireland with a determination to do my best for the people without reference to person or to party."

Lady Mary shook her head, and a deep and earnest expression again overshadowed her features.

"You are right," she said, " quite right, and, believe me, I did but jest ; we mere Irish are accustomed to laugh even at our miseries ■ — -the only way we have of getting rid of them ; but those who come among us with a real desire to see and hear for themselves, and

3 2 then do us service, if they can, deserve our gratitude, and may God bless their good work ! "

At this moment a venerable-looking gentleman passed close to Lady Mary O'Brien ; she rose and extended her hand to him ; the greeting was cordial, but it awoke some painful thoughts and feelings, for immediately afterwards she turned away to hide tears that fell into the foaming and rushing waves, as she again bent over the side of the steamer. Mr. Spencer immediately opened a book, and seemed to read, but he was too deeply interested by the people about him to pay much attention to the volume he held in his hand ; a knot of " Parliament Men " stood close together, discussing some popular or unpopular measure of the session, and not looking particularly worn or overworked. One little, animated, restless man, had the ear of his companions, and uttered his opinions in a shrill voice, expressing as much by his pantomime as by his words, while a bright-eyed, burly gentleman, who seemed full of the good things of this life, and especially of rich, abounding, overflowing humour, " cut in " every now and then upon the small orator's eloquence : and his interruptions were invariably followed by the abundant harmony of Irish laughter, up-rolling from Irish hearts. At the opposite side of the ship, reclining upon a pile of cushions, and coats and cloaks, was a young girl, evidently in the last stage of consumption ; her mother, who sat by her side, was pressing the thin, fleshless fingers in her large hand, and holding them as tightly as if her grasp could retain the life that seemed rapidly ebbing. In return for kind suggestions from many who had never seen them before, and would probably never see them again, she said, " her darling " couldn't bear the close air below ; she could hardly breathe where they were ; she had taken her to a great London doctor, who had done her no good, and now her whole cry was to be carried home ; and the young woman echoed the words with her feeble lips, and still feebler breath, and murmured, "Home, mother, home!" A nursery girl, or, as she desired to be considered, " a lady's maid," was fruitlessly endeavouring to do several things at once, " hushowing " in her arms a particularly cross baby, who would cry, and endeavouring to prevent a breach of the peace between an ugly cur named Jessie, and a "bould boy," who insisted upon pulling Jessie by the tail, when nurse wanted her to come forward, by the string, which was twisted round what (figuratively) would be called her little finger. As this inconvenient group staggered along the deck, Jessie every now and then snapping at the gentlemen's toes, while young master stumbled over them, Mr. Spencer was much amused by a sort of monologue the " lady's maid " was getting through, sotto voce, the wide borders of her cap flapping sail- fashion in the wind, while the "floating" of her "light English cotton " exhibited a pair of remarkably stout limbs, safely cased in blaek worsted stockings.

" Masther Tim, Masther Tim, avick, let the baste's tale alone, dear; she's English, my da^i^t »i^ »?«+■ n«orl +n Hn anvtViino- si1Q doesn't plase, jewel ; not like yer own little Pincher at home, that never offered to bite any thing-, barring the tax-man ; " then a great squall from the baby called her attention to the plunging parcel she found it hard enough to manage.

" Whisht, whisht, darlint, you'll disturb your mamma that's in the cabin. Oh, then, I wish from my very sowl they'd as fine cabins on shore as they have tossing on the say, just for sport. Whisht ! Oh ! murder, what'll I do with you in the night, at all at all, and the sixpen'orth of barley-sugar gone already ! "

There were many other children, and one or two other servants ; but the latter, from their quiet manner, Mr. Spencer supposed were not " natives," and the children were returning from English schools. " Och, my sorrow ! " muttered the guardian of the child and dog, as the party promenaded by : " I beg your pardon, sir, but will ye tell me what o'clock it is 'i "

Mr. Spencer, not being aware of the propensity of the Irish peasant to know how time goes, was amused, but answered; and the woman resumed, "We shall have twinty hours of it still, through wind and waather ; all for what ? — going to a wateringplace ; and I give ye my word, sir, for all it was done out like a paradise, where they drank it — the water I mane — the river Shannon would be ashamed of the shadow of an Irish face, if it was like that dirty ircn trash they went so far to drink. Are we in the Irish sea yet, yer honour ? "

The young Englishman was somewhat astonished at the easy, yet respectful manner of the woman, and would Jiave replied ; but, apparently to avoid a gentleman who was walking up and down the deck, she muttered, ' ' The Lord preserve us, and send the ship safe home," and crossing herself, turned abruptly away.

Mr. Spencer's quick eye had noted this person from the moment he came on board, as having dismissed the lad who carried his valise, with half the usual gratuit}', two tracts, and a brief expostulation on the sin of extortion. He was a remarkably tall, stout, powerful man, his frame well knit together, his chest broad and muscular, and his large head supported by a thick, red neck, round which was folded a full-sized well stiffened, well-arranged, neck-cloth. An ordinary physiognomist would not have found it necessary to look more than once into his face before determining his character. The nose was blunt and coarse, the mouth — that truth- telling volume without words — close shut, and firm ; but habit had drawn down its comers, so as to give it, particularly at times, an expression of woe and wailing, as if that single feature mourned for the sins of all its brethren, who were still sensual and stubborn. The eyes were keen and wandering, and the full chin, and thick, heavy "jowl" was irreclaimably evil. Only that his coat was blue, instead of black, those who followed his footsteps might have supposed him a dignitary of the church, for his bearing was gentlemanly; but those who met him, and who knew Ireland — so completely did' his face destroy the effect of his figure —would have called him an n.t.tornev or a middleman, and put up a prayer for those of whom he clair.ed his dues. As he in his turn passed Mr. Spencer, he said, in a strong Minister accent, softened to a whine: "A most blessed evening, Sir; a crowning mercy to hare such an evening."

Mr. Spencer bowed — he felt so much repugnance to the person that he could not answer him civilly. Perhaps this coldness disturbed the seemingly placid humour of the man; for immediately after, " Masther .Tim," who had contrived to cut the dog's string, came running and tumbling over everything in his way, and consequently over the disdained gentleman's feet and ancles ; the boy ran on — the dog doubled to get to her protector, and again inconvenienced the same person, who turned hastily round, his face red with abrupt passion, and dealing the animal a kick that sent it spinning along the deck, exclaimed, with a sort of oath abridged, " Get out of my way, ye're as bad as the Papists."

" It's a grate compliment ye've paid her," said the servant, with a look of contempt that kindled into one of fierceness before the sentence was finished, and while the cross baby was crying on one arm, she " tucked " the dog under the other. " It's a grate compliment ye've paid her, Mr. Richards, Sir ; but ye're wrong, Sir ; she comes of a Protestant family ; one of your own sort — barring she's not a turn-coat." The taunt goaded as bitterly as the woman intended it should, for Mr. Richards had once held a different, and far less popular faith than he at that time professed.

For a moment he regarded the speaker with so fiendish a glare, that Mr. Spencer thought he would have struck her — while she, with hardly less of the demon in her face, awaited the issue. But the fire and wrath faded from the man's countenance ; and then, in a soft, oily voice, he said, " Oh, Betty, my good girl, is that you — and how's the mistress ? I am sure I didn't know who the dog belonged to, or I would not have shoved it out of the way."

"Ah, ah!" answered Betty, "the ould story — hit him hard, he's no friends ; but poor Jessie has a back still if it's not broke, Sir. There, keep yer hand out of her way, for she bites to the bone."

" Poor fellow, poor fellow ! " said Mr. Richards.

"Don't fal-lal yer fingers any more at her, or I'll not be able to keep her quiet," growled Betty, who was strongly inclined to let the angry animal go.

" Thank you, Betty, I shall see the mistress by an'by ; " then he added, in a sort of whisper, "have you any time for reading, my poor girl 'i " and he put his hand into his capacious pocket to take out a tract.

"Will 1 have a shilling?" answered Betty, affecting not to understand him, " I'd be sorry to refuse, Sir — the first time of asking," she said, a sly expression of humour chasing away the venom that had a moment before tainted every feature of her round ruddy face.

Mr. Richards looked perplexed — or, as the woman would have expressed it, " bothered," and muttering something about " no small change," repocketed. his D-rtTn>1iV> nT\? *—~~;i «—

A. STOST OF IRELAND. 7

The steamer went boldly on her voyage with her mingled cargo of different creeds, and totally different views, sweeping forwards, foaming and groaning as if discontented with her freight.

Mr. Spencer's attention was next drawn towards two singularly beautiful and graceful girls, who were earnestly expressing to their father, (the old gentleman with whom Lady. Mary O'Brien had so warmly shaken hands,) the delight they felt at returning home after a few weeks of absence.

They were young Irish gentlewomen ; frank and warm in manner, yet protected by a dignity and delicacy of deportment which prevented the possibility of that warmth and frankness being misunderstood ; they conversed with the poor woman whose daughter lay on the deck, and while one poured some eau-de- Cologne on her hands, and steeped her coarse cotton handkerchief in perfume, the other placed a cushion beneath her head. This was all done without parade ; it was the natural discharge of a duty which the healthful owe to the suffering.

But if Mr. Spencer fancied he was the only observer on board the steam-packet, he was much mistaken. He was, although profoundly ignorant of the fact, far more the observed than the observant. He had been speculated, and commented upon, and his every movement had been noted, by two women — whom it would be as unjust to present as examples of the ladies of Ireland, as it would be to point out the Monday mob at Gravesend as the gentlewomen of England ; good, worthy creatures they were, in their way, only ridiculous when they sought to elbow themselves into what they would have called " carriage company." In Ireland there is a habit, which, some years ago, was stronger and more general than it is at present — by which a lady was distinguished according to her husband's profession — that is to say, provided it was a "liberal" one; no woman ever thought of being called Mrs. Grocer Finnerty — -or Mrs. Housepainter Grady — ■ or Mrs. Bookseller O'Haggerty : but there was no end to the Mrs. Counsellor Kinealeys — the Mrs. Captain Doyles — and the Mrs. Colonel O'Neils ; while even a Mrs. Attorney Higgins was unwilling that her " rank " should be overlooked. It was a little bit of show, and distinction, which, in the simple vanity of their hearts, they enjoyed ; no harm in it ; yet it was one of the things that struck Mr. Spencer — as it does every stranger — as odd and absurd, when lie heard a lady tell her servant to go down to the cabin, and ask the steward for Mrs. Counsellor Brown's Cashmere shawl.

The two who took such interest in Mr. Spencer, were a Mrs. Counsellor Hackett, who talked loud in a rich, full, Cork voice and accent, to Mrs. Attorney Murphy — "I've a great mind, my dear, to go up and make myself known to that illigant crature, Lady Mary O'Brien," said Mrs. Hackett ; " if she wasn't so shortsighted she'd know me a mile off. I've known her since she was the hoight of a green rush, and I'd like to do it, just to take the shine

(ait of Mrs. Brown ; ever since they set up a carriage, she boasts she'll keep none but carriage, and the first county, company ; yet she never had a lady of title enter her doors — I reely think I will ; f>r I should like to know who he is, above all earthly things, and maybe she'd introduce me ; he seems mighty sweet upon her, and she so short a time a widow."

" I'll tell the counsellor, so I will, Mrs. Hackett, dear," lisped pretty little Mrs. Attorney.

"Oh, bother, nonsense!" exclaimed the jovial-looking lady; " God be praised, I've no daughters of my own to get off now, but there's the counsellor's two sisters, and my own three nieces — charming, illigant cratures ! at any rate, I'd like to know who he is ; I'm certain that he's the right thing; he's one of us, I'm sure."

" I don't agree with you, and I hope you'll excuse me for it, ma'am," said Mrs. Murphy ; " I heerd his own man say, that his master was going to Derry."

"To Derry!" exclaimed Mrs. Hackett, in a tone of deep indignation, "to Derry! — to the heart of the black North! Himself in a bottle-green cloak of beautiful Spanish cloth, and his servants in grass-green liveries ! Mrs. Murphy, it's impossible, it's not mad he'd be to go to the North — himself in a bottle-green cloak, and his two fine servant-men in grass -green liveries! He'd be murdered ; he can't know the ways of the country ; it would be only Christian charity to tell him, for maybe he's a stranger from France or iSpain — I'm sure he is, ma'am ! he's so dark, with Italian eyes, such as they have in Home, and sucli a noble air. May the saints protect the dear young gentleman ! but it's almost a point of conscience to put him on his guard. Oh ! that I should ever hear a bottle-green cloak and gnss-green liveries talk of going to the bitter black North ! "

" I wonder your friend Lady Mary O'Brien does not tell him," suggested Mrs. Murphy.

" Thath ! my dear! Lady Mary, though she ought to be what all her seed, breed, and generation were, as good, and better than ourselves, has been wandering in England ; her husband was a Protestant, and she was always mighty liberal — and more than that "

The steamer had now got fully into the open sea, and in addition to its usual shaking, commenced rolling as ships will do, despite all that is said to the contrary. Mrs. Hackett bore up against these sea miseries with the air of a heroine; but at last, as Mrs. Murphy assisted her in descending the cabin stairs, she looked into her friend's face with an air of intense suffering, and exclaimed, " Oh dear ! dear ! darling ! It isn't the shake, but the rov;! of it that's killing me ! "

A STOKT OP IEEIAND.

Chapter II. The Key-note

The night was passing without any occurrence to disturb the monotony of a "Night at Sea;" there was the dim, uncertain light of the full-orbed, but often clouded moon — the twinkling of the mysterious stars — the rush and roll of the waters — the spray falling on the deck — the heavy tramp of the few watchers — the motion and shaking of the engine increasing the Tib ration "natural" to a legitimate ship — tiie heavy smell of the oil — and in the cabins the half-sleepy complaints and querulous grumblings of the passengers — the coming forth of all the little, mean selfishness of human nature, redeemed, however, by the self-sacrifices of some who give up the pillow or vinaigrette to those who need it more than themselves. Mr. Spencer folded himself in his cloak, — "the bottie-green," which had excited "Mrs. Counsellor's" sympathy — and continued on deck lon<r after his fair friend, and the greater number of passengers, had disappeared. Edward Spencer's nature was that of a deep-minded, thoughtful, refined Englishman ; slow to receive impressions, but clinging to them with a tenacity which hardly admitted of change. He could not entertain a single paltry feeiing — his manners were as calm and as classic as his mind. The romance of Irish history, and the romance of the Irish people, had entered his heart ; though he never quoted poetry, and could as easily have turned the world on its axis as a tune, the patriotic songs of Moore were treasured in his memory ; and Irish heroism, without distinction of party, was one of the idols of his mind-worship ; he took extensive views both of things and people, but could hardly be considered an observer of, or a carer for, small matters ; thus, he was peculiarly unfitted to comprehend the bickerings and bitternesses, the petty malignant nothings which form the superstructure of Irish discontent, frequently to the exclusion of thought for actual and positive grievances.

He was fully aware of the real miseries of the country, thoroughly indignant at the long past cruelty, and the continued neglect, which had characterised the conduct of England to a sister she never treated as an equal, nor even with the tenderness which the elder is expected to bestow upon the younger. Perhaps the strongest principle of his nature was a love of justice ; he was so accustomed to weigh and balance, that he never could attach himself to what is called a party; it was his habit — a habit inseparable from his moral constitution— to seek for the right path, and to follow it implicitly. During his purposed residence upon the estate to which Lady Mary had alluded, Edward Spencer had resolved to do more in one year than any practical man would have attempted to accomplish in ten, or twenty ; all his plans for the improvement of his English estates had succeeded so admirably, that he determined to apply to Irish grievances the systems and remedies he had applied to English ones ; summing up his thoughts on the subject with, "they cannot be so unreasonable as to reject that," — " they cannot upon mature consideration refuse this ; " forgetting, as strangers usually do, that he had to deal with a people who feel while others reason, and who act too rapidly upon that feeling to give " mature consideration " to any earthly thing ; still he was perfectly and entirely in earnest in his desire to deal justly with a long enduring country ; and so truthful was his nature, that he had no intention of reserving — no wish to hide — his sentiments ; though, like the generality of Englishmen, he was more reflective than experimental.