Charles Lever - Arthur O'Leary - His Wanderings And Ponderings In Many Lands

“‘See what?’

“‘The salmon, to be sure. A twelve-pounder, as sure as my name’s O’Kelly. He “set” it.’

“‘Set a salmon!’ shouted twenty voices in a breath. ‘The thing’s impossible.’

“‘Would you like a bet on it?’ asked I drily.

“‘No, no – damn it; no more bets; but surely – ’

“‘Too provoking, after all,’ muttered I, ‘to have lost so fine a fish, and get such a ducking’; and with that I mounted my barb, and, waving my hand, wished them a good-bye, and galloped into Killaloe.

“This story I have only related, because, insignificant as it was, it became in a manner the pivot of my then fate in life. The jockey at once made me an offer of partnership in his traffic, displaying before me the numerous advantages of such a proposal. I was a disengaged man – my prospects not peculiarly brilliant – the state of my exchequer by no means encouraging the favourite nostrum of a return to cash payments, and so I acceded, and entered at once upon my new profession with all the enthusiasm I was always able to command, no matter what line of life solicited my adoption.

“But it’s near one o’clock, and so now, Mr. O’Leary, if you’ve no objection, we’ll have a grill and a glass of Madeira, and then, if you can keep awake an hour or so longer, I’ll try and finish my adventures.”

“I left off at that flattering portion of my history where I became a horse-dealer; in this capacity I travelled over a considerable portion of Ireland, now larking it in the West – jollifying in the South – and occasionally suffering a penance for both enjoyments, by a stray trip to Ulster. In these rambles I contrived to make acquaintance with most of the resident gentry, who, by the special freemasonry that attends my calling, scrupled not to treat me on terms of half equality, and even invite me to their houses – a piece of condescension on their part, which they well knew was paid for, in more solid advantages.

“In a word, Mr. O’Leary, I became a kind of moral amphibia, with powers to sustain life in two distinct and opposite elements – now brushing my way among frieze-coated farmers, trainers, dealers, sharpers, and stablemen; now floating on the surface of a politer world, where the topics of conversation took a different range, and were couched in a very different vocabulary.

“My knowledge of French, and my acquaintance with Parisian life, at least as seen in that class in which I used to mix, added to a kind of natural tact, made me, as far as manners and ‘usage’ were concerned, fully the equal of those with whom I associated; and I managed matters so well, that the circumstance of my being seen in the morning with cords and tops of jockey cut, showing off a ‘screw,’ or extolling the symmetry of a spavined hackney, never interfered with the pretensions I put forward at night, when, arranged in suit of accurate black, I turned over the last new opera, or delivered a very scientific criticism on the new ‘ballet’ in London, or the latest fashion imported from the Continent.

“Were I to trace back this part of my career, I might perhaps amuse you more by the incidents it contained, than by any other portion of my life; nothing indeed is so suggestive of adventure, as that anomaly which the French denominate so significantly – ‘a false position,’ The man who – come, come, don’t be afraid, though that sounds very like Joseph Surface, I’m not going to moralize – the man, I say, who endeavours to sustain two distinct lines in life, is very likely to fail in both, and so I felt it, for while my advantages all inclined to one side, my taste and predilections leaned to the other; I could never adopt knavery as a profession – as an amateur I gloried in it: roguery, without risk, was a poor pettifogging policy that I spurned; but a practical joke that involved life or limb, a hearty laugh, or a heavy reckoning, was a temptation I never could resist. The more I mixed in society, the greater my intimacy with persons of education and refinement, the stronger became my repugnance to my actual condition, and the line of life I had adopted. While my position in society was apparently more fixed, I became in reality more nervously anxious for its stability. The fascinations which in the better walks of life are thrown around the man of humble condition, but high aspirings, are strong and sore temptations, while he measures and finds himself not inferior to others, to whom the race is open, and the course is free, and yet feels in his own heart, that there is a bar upon his escutcheon which excludes him from the lists. I began now to experience this in all its poignancy. Among the acquaintances I had formed, one of my most intimate was a young baronet, who had just succeeded to a large estate in the county Kilkenny. Sir Harvey Blundell was an Anglo-Irishman in more than one sense: from his English father he had inherited certain staid and quiet notions of propriety, certain conventional ideas regarding the observance of etiquette, which are less valued in Ireland; while, from his mother, he succeeded to an appreciation of native fun and drollery, of all the whims and oddities of Irish life, which, strange enough, are as well understood by the Anglo-Irishman, as by one ‘to the manner born.’

“I met Sir Harvey at a supper party in College. Some song I had sung of my own composing, or some story of my inventing, I forget which, tickled his fancy: he begged to be introduced to me, drew his chair over to my side of the table, and ended by giving an invitation to his house for the partridge-shooting, which was to begin in a few days; I readily assented – it was a season in which I had nothing to do, my friend Dan had gone over to the Highlands to make a purchase of some ponies; I was rather flush of cash, and consequently in good spirits. It was arranged, then, that I should drive him down in my drag, a turn-out with four spanking greys, of whose match and colour, shape and action, I was not a little vain.

“We posted to Carlow, to which place I had sent on my horses, and arrived the same evening at Sir Harvey’s house, in time for dinner. This was the first acquaintance I had made, independent of my profession. Sir Harvey knew me, as Mr. O’Kelly whom he met at an old friend’s chambers in College; and he introduced me thus to his company, adding to his intimates in a whisper I could overhear – ‘devilish fast fellow, up to every thing – knows life at home, and abroad, and has such a team!’ Here were requisites enough, in all conscience, to win favour among any set of young country-gentlemen, and I soon found myself surrounded by a circle, who listened to my opinions on every subject, and recorded my judgments, with the most implicit faith in their wisdom, no matter on what I talked, women, wine, the drama, play, sporting, debts, duns, or duels, my word was law.

“Two circumstances considerably aided me in my present supremacy: first, Sir Harvey’s friends were all young men from Oxford, who knew little of the world, and less of that part of it called Ireland; and secondly, they were all strangers to me, and consequently my liberty of speech was untrammelled by any unpleasant reminiscences of dealing, in fairs or auctions.

“The establishment was presided over by Sir Harvey’s sister, at least, nominally so – her presence being a reason for having ladies at his parties; and although she was only nineteen, she gave a tone and character to the habits of the house, which, without her, it never could have possessed. Miss Blundell was a very charming person, combining in herself two qualities which, added to beauty, made a very irresistible ensemble : she had the greatest flow of spirits, with a retiring and almost timidly bashful disposition: courage for any thing, and a delicacy that shrunk abashed from all that bordered on display, or bore the slightest semblance of effrontery. I shall say no more, than that before I was a week in the house, I was over head and ears in love with her; my whole thoughts centred in her; my whole endeavour, to show myself in such a light as might win her favour.