CHAPTER III. SOME VISITORS AT GWYNNE ABBEY
It is a fact not only well worthy of mention, but pregnant with its owninstruction, that persons who have long enjoyed all the advantages ofan elevated social position better support the reverses which condemnedthem to humble and narrow fortunes, than do the vulgar-minded, when, byany sudden caprice of the goddess, they are raised to a conspicuous anddistinguished elevation.
There is in the gentleman, and still more in the gentlewoman,--as thevery word itself announces,--an element of placidity and quietude thatsuggests a spirit of accommodation to whatever may arise to ruffle thetemper or disturb the equanimity. Self-respect and consideration forothers are a combination not inconsistent or unfrequent, and thereare few who have not seen, some time or other, a reduced gentlemandispensing in a lowly station the mild graces and accomplishments of hisorder, and, while elevating others, sustaining himself.
The upstart, on the other hand, like a mariner in some unknown seawithout chart or compass, has nothing to guide him; impelled hither orthither as caprice or passion dictate, he is neither restrained by adue sense of decorum, nor admonished by a conscientious feeling of goodbreeding. With the power that rank and wealth bestow he becomes notdistinguished, but eccentric; unsustained by the companionship of hisequals, he tries to assimilate himself to them rather by their folliesthan their virtues, and thus presents to the world that mockery of rankand station which makes good men sad, and bad men triumphant.
To these observations we have been led by the altered fortunes of thosetwo families of whom our story treats. If the Darcys suddenly foundthemselves brought down to a close acquaintanceship with poverty and itsfellows, they bore the change with that noble resignation that springsfrom true regard for others at the sacrifice of ourselves. The littleshifts and straits of narrowed means were ever treated jestingly, thetrials that a gloomy spirit had converted into sorrows made matters ofmerriment and laughter; and as the traveller sees the Arab tent in thedesert spread beside the ruined temple of ancient grandeur, and happyfaces and kind looks beneath the shade of ever-vanished splendor, so didthis little group maintain in their fall the kindly affection and thehigh-souled courage that made of that humble cottage a home of happinessand enjoyment.
Let us now turn to the west, where another and very different picturepresented itself. Although certain weighty questions remained to betried at law between the Darcys and the Hickmans, Bicknell could notadvise the Knight to contest the mortgage under which the Hickmans hadnow taken possession of the abbey.
The reputation for patriotism and independence so fortunately acquiredby that family came at a most opportune moment. In no country of Europeare the associations connected with the proprietorship of land moreregarded than in Ireland; this feeling, like most others truly Irish,has the double property of being either a great blessing or a greatcurse, for while it can suggest a noble attachment to country, it canalso, as we see it in our own day, be the fertile source of the mostatrocious crime.
Had Hickman O'Reilly succeeded to the estate of the Darcys at any othermoment than when popular opinion called the one a "patriot" and theother a "traitor," the consequences would have been serious; allthe disposable force, civil and military, would scarcely have beensufficient to secure possession. The thought of the "ould ancientfamily" deposed and exiled by the men of yesterday, would have exciteda depth of feeling enough to stir the country far and near. Every traitthat adorned the one, for generations, would be remembered, while thehumble origin of the other would be offered as the bitterest reproach,by those who thought in embodying the picture of themselves and theirfortune they were actually summing up the largest amount of obloquy anddisgrace. Such is mob principle in everything! Aristocracy has nosuch admirers as the lowly born, just as the liberty of the press isinexpressibly dear to that part of the population who know not how toread.
When last we saw Gwynne Abbey, the scene was one of mourning, theparting hour of those whose affections clung to the old walls, and whowere to leave it forever. We must now return there for a brief spaceunder different auspices, and when Mr. Hickman O'Reilly, the highsheriff of the county, was entertaining a large and distinguishedcompany in his new and princely residence.
It was the assize week, and the judges, as well as the leading officersof the Crown, were his guests; many of the gentry were also there,--somefrom indifference to whom their host might be, others from curiosity tosee how the upstart, Bob Hickman, would do the honors; and there weremany who felt far more at their ease in the abbey now than when they hadthe fears of Lady Eleanor Darcy's quietude and coldness of manner beforethem.
No expense was spared to rival the style and retinue of the abbey underits former owners. O'Reilly well knew the value of first impressionsin such matters, and how the report that would soon gain currencywould decide the matter for or against him. So profusely, and with suchdisregard to money, was everything done, that, as a mere question ofcost, there was no doubt that never in the Knight's palmiest days hadanything been seen more magnificent than the preparations. Luxuries,brought at an immense cost, and by contraband, from abroad; wines, ofthe rarest excellence, abounded at every entertainment; equipages, moresplendid than any ever seen there before, appeared each morning; andtroops of servants without number moved hither and thither, displayingthe gorgeous liveries of the O'Reillys.
The guests were for the most part the neighboring gentry, the military,and the members of the bar; but there were others also, selected withpeculiar care, and whose presence was secured at no inconsiderablepains. These were the leading "diners-out" of Dublin, and recognized"men about town," whose names were seen on club committees, and whoseword was law on all questions of society. Among them, the chief was ConHeffernan; and he now saw himself for the first time a guest at GwynneAbbey. The invitation was made and accepted with a certain coquettingthat gave it the character of a reconciliation; there were politicaldifferences to be got over, mutual recriminations to be forgotten; butas each felt, for his own reasons, not indisposed to renew friendlyrelations, the matter presented little difficulty, and when Mr. O'Reillyreceived his guest, on his arrival, with a shake of both hands,the action was meant and taken as a receipt in full for all pastmisunderstanding, and both had too much tact ever to go back on"bygones."
There had been a little correspondence between the parties, the earlyportions of which were marked "Confidential," and the latter "Strictlyconfidential and private." This related to a request made by O'Reillyto Heffernan to entreat his influence in behalf of Lionel Darcy. Nothingcould exceed the delicacy of the negotiation; for after professing thatthe friendship which had subsisted between his own son and young Darcywas the active motive for the request, he went on to say that in thecourse of certain necessary legal investigations it was discovered thatyoung Lionel, in the unguarded carelessness of a young and extravagantman, had put his name to bills of a large amount, and even hinted thathe had not stopped there, but had actually gone the length of signinghis father's name to documents for the sale of property. To obtain anappointment for him in some regiment serving in India would at oncewithdraw him from the likelihood of any exposure in these matters.To interest Heffernan in the affair was the object of O'Reilly'scorrespondence; and Heffernan was only too glad, at so ready anopportunity, to renew their raptured relations.
Lions were not as fashionable in those days as at present; but still theparty had its share in the person of Counsellor O'Halloran, the greatorator of the bar, and the great speaker at public meetings, the risingpatriot, who, not being deemed of importance enough to be bought, waslooked on as incorruptible. He had come down special to defend O'Reillyin a record of Darcy _versus_ Hickman,--the first case submittedfor trial by Bicknell, and one which, small in itself, would yet,if determined in the Knight's favor, form a rule of great importancerespecting those that were to follow.
It was in the first burst of Hickman O'Reilly's indignation againstGovernment that he had secured O'Halloran as his counsel, neveranticipating that
any conjuncture would bring him once more intorelations with the Ministry. His appointment of high sheriff, however,and his subsequent correspondence with Heffernan, ending with theinvitation to the abbey, had greatly altered his sentiments, and hemore than once regretted the precipitancy with which he had selected hisadvocate.
Whether "the Counsellor" did or did not perceive that his reception wasone of less cordiality and more embarrassment than might be expected,it is not easy to say, for he was one of those persons who live too muchout of themselves to betray their own feelings to the world. He was alarge and well-looking man, but whose features would have been coarse intheir expression were it not for the animated intelligence of his eye,and the quaint humor that played about the angles of his mouth, andadded to the peculiar drollery of an accent to which Kerry had lent allits native archness. His gestures were bold, striking, and original; hismanner of speaking, even in private, impressive,--from the deliberateslowness of his utterance, and the air of truthfulness sustained byevery agency of look, voice, and expression. The least observant couldnot fail to remark in him a conscious power, a sense of his own greatgifts either in argument or invective; for he was no less skilfulin unravelling the tangled tissue of a knotted statement than inoverwhelming his adversary with a torrent of abusive eloquence.The habits of his profession, but in particular the practice ofcross-examination, had given him an immense insight into the darkerrecesses of the human heart, and made him master of all the subtletiesand evasions of inferior capacities. This knowledge he brought with himinto society, where his powers of conversation had already establishedfor him a high repute. He abounded in anecdote, which he introduced soeasily and naturally that the _a propos_ had as much merit as the storyitself. Yet with all these qualities, and in a time when the members ofhis profession were more than ever esteemed and courted, he himselfwas not received, save on sufferance, into the better society of thecapital. The stamp of a "low tone," and the assertion of democraticopinions, were two insurmountable obstacles to his social acceptance;and he was rarely, if ever, seen in those circles which arrogated tothemselves the title of best. Whether it was a conscious sense of whatwas "in him" powerful enough to break down such barriers as these,and that, like Nelson, he felt the day would come when he would have a"_Gazette of his own_," but his manner at times displayed a spirit ofhaughty daring and effrontery that formed a singular contrast with theslippery and insinuating softness of his _nisi prius_ tone and gesture.
If we seem to dwell longer on this picture than the place the originaloccupies in our story would warrant, it is because the character is notfictitious, and there is always an interest to those who have seen thebroad current of a mighty river rolling onward in its mighty strength,to stand beside the little streamlet which, first rising from themountain, gave it origin,--to mark the first obstacles that opposed itscourse,--and to watch the strong impulses that moulded its destiny toovercome them.
Whatever fears Hickman O'Reilly might have felt as to how his counsel,learned in the law, would be received by the Government agent, Mr.Heffernan, were speedily allayed. The gentlemen had never met before,and yet, ere the first day went over, they were as intimate as oldacquaintances, each, apparently, well pleased with the strong good senseand natural humor of the other. And so, indeed, it may be remarked inthe world, that when two shrewd, far-reaching individuals are broughttogether, the attraction of quick intelligence and craft is sufficientto draw them into intimate relations at once. There is somethingwonderfully fraternal in roguery.
This was the only social difficulty O'Reilly dreaded, and happily itwas soon dispelled, and the general enjoyment was unclouded by eventhe slightest accident. The judges were _bon vivants_, who enjoyed goodliving and good wine; he of the Common Pleas, too, was an excellentshot, and always exchanged his robes for a shooting-jacket on enteringthe park, and despatched hares and woodcocks as he walked along, withas much unconcern as he had done Whiteboys half an hour before. TheSolicitor-General was passionately fond of hunting, and would rather anyday have drawn a cover than an indictment; and so with the rest,--theyseemed all of them sporting-gentlemen of wit and pleasure, who did alittle business at law by way of "distraction." Nor did O'Halloran forman exception; he was as ready as the others to snatch an intervalof pleasure amid the fatigues of his laborious day. But, somehow, hecontrived that no amount of business should be too much for him; andwhile his ruddy cheek and bright eye bespoke perfect health and renewedenjoyment, it was remarked that the lamp burned the whole night longunextinguished in his chamber, and that no morning found him everunprepared to defend the interest of his client.
There was, as we have said, nothing to throw a damper on the generaljoy. Fortune was bent on dealing kindly with Mr. O'Reilly; for while hewas surrounded with distinguished and delighted guests, his father, thedoctor, the only one whose presence could have brought a blush to hischeek, was confined to his room by a severe cold, and unable to join theparty.
The assize calendar was a long one, and the town the last in thecircuit, so that the judges were in no hurry to move on; besides, GwynneAbbey was a quarter which it was very unlikely would soon be equalledin style of living and resources. For all these several reasons thebusiness of the law went on with an easy and measured pace, the Courtopening each day at ten, and closing about three or four, when amagnificent procession of carriages and saddle-horses drew up in themain street to convey the guests back to the abbey.
While the other trials formed the daily subject of table-talk,suggesting those stories of fun, anecdote, and incident with which noother profession can enter into rivalry, the case of Darcy _versus_Hickman was never alluded to, and, being adroitly left last on the listfor trial, could not possibly interfere with the freedom so essential topleasant intercourse.
The day fixed on for this record was a Saturday. It was positively thelast day the judges could remain, and having accepted an engagement toa distant part of the country for that very day at dinner, the Court wasto sit early, and there being no other cause for trial, it was supposedthe cause would be concluded in time to permit their departure. Up tothis morning the high sheriff had never omitted, as in duty bound, toaccompany the judges to the court-house, displaying in the number andsplendor of his equipages a costliness and magnificence that excited thewonder of the assembled gentry. On this day, however, he deemed it wouldbe more delicate on his part to be absent, as the matter in litigationso nearly concerned himself. And half seriously and half in jest he madehis apologies to the learned baron who was to try the cause, and beggedfor permission to remain at the abbey. The request was most natural, andat once acceded to; and although Heffer-nan had expressed the greatestdesire to hear the Counsellor, he determined to pass the morning, atleast, with O'Reilly, and endeavor afterwards to be in time for theaddress to the jury.
At last the procession moved off; several country gentlemen, who hadcome over to breakfast, joining the party, and making the cavalcade, asit entered the town, a very imposing body. It was the market-day, too;and thus the square in front of the court-house was crowded with afrieze-coated and red-cloaked population, earnestly gesticulatingand discussing the approaching trial, for to the Irish peasant theexcitement of a law process has the most intense and fascinatinginterest. All the ordinary traffic of the day was either neglected orcarelessly performed, in the anxiety to see those who dispensed thedread forms of justice, but more particularly to obtain a sight of theyoung "Counsellor," who for the first time had appeared on this circuit,but whose name as a patriot and an orator was widely renowned.
"Here he comes! Here he comes! Make way there!" went from mouth tomouth, as O'Halloran, who had entered the inn for a moment, now issuedforth in wig and gown, and carrying a heavily laden bag in his hand. Thecrowd opened for him respectfully and in dead silence, and then a heartycheer burst forth, that echoed through the wide square, and was taken upby hundreds of voices in the neighboring streets.
It needed not the reverend companionship of Father John M'Enerty, theparish priest o
f Curraghglass, who walked at his side, to secure himthis hearty burst of welcome, although of a truth the circumstance hadits merit also, and many favorable comments were passed upon O'Halloranfor the familiar way he leaned on the priest's arm, and the kindlyintelligence that subsisted between them.
If anything could have added to the pleasure of the assembled crowd atthe instant, it was an announcement by Father John, who, turning roundon the steps of the courthouse, informed them in a kind of confidentialwhisper that was heard over the square, that "if they were good boys,and did n't make any disturbance in the town," the Counsellor would givethem a speech when the trial was over.
The most deafening shout of applause followed this declaration, andwhatever interest the questions of law had possessed for them before wasnow merged in the higher anxiety to hear the great Counsellor himselfdiscuss the "veto," that long-agitated question each had taught himselfto believe of nearest importance to himself.
"When last I visited this town," said Bicknell to the senior counselemployed in the Knight's behalf, "I witnessed a very different scene.Then we had triumphal arches, and bonfire illuminations, and addresses.It was young Darcy's birthday, and a more enthusiastic reception it isimpossible to conceive than he met in these very streets from these verypeople."
"There is only one species of interest felt for dethroned monarchs,"said the other, caustically,--"how they bear their misfortunes."
"The man you see yonder waving his hat to young O'Reilly was one ofa deputation to congratulate the heir of Gwynne Abbey! I remember himwell,--his name is Mitchell."
"I hope not the same I see upon our jury-list here," said theCounsellor, as he unfolded a written paper, and perused it attentively.
"The same man; he holds his house under the Darcys, and has receivedmany and deep favors at their hands."
"So much the worse, if we should find him in the jury-box. But have weany chance of young Darcy yet? Do you give up all hope of his arrival?"
"The last tidings I received from my clerk were, that he was to followhim down to Plymouth by that night's mail, and still hoped to be in timeto catch him ere the transport sailed."
"What a rash and reckless fellow he must be, that would leave a countrywhere he has such interests at stake!"
"If he felt that a point of honor or duty was involved, I don't believehe 'd sacrifice a jot of either to gain this cause, and I 'm certainthat some such plea has been made use of on the present occasion."
"How they cheer! What's the source of their enthusiasm at this moment?There it goes, that carriage with the green liveries and the Irish mottoround the crest. Look at O'Halloran, too! how he shakes hands with thetownsfolk; canvassing for a verdict already! Now, Bicknell, let usmove on; but, for my part, I feel our cause is decided outside thecourt-house. If I 'm not very much mistaken, we are about to have an eraof 'popular justice' in Ireland, and our enemies could not wish us worseluck."