EMILY 
 LAWLESS
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 DIEGO
 
 *
 
 TRAITS 
 AND CONFIDENCES
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 HURRISH 
 
 CRANIA 
 
 WITH ESSEX IN IRELAND 
 
 MAJOR LAWRENCE, F.L.S. 
 
 PLAIN FRANCES MOWBRAY 
 
 MAELCHO
 
 TRAITS 
 AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 BY THE HON. 
 
 EMILY LAWLESS 
 
 METHUEN & CO. 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 1898
 
 TO
 
 Five of the following stories have appeared in various reviews 
 and magazines, the editors of which have kindly allowed them to 
 be republished. The rest of the volume is new,
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A SONG OF HOBBIES ... ... ... 2 
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE ... ... 3 
 
 ON THE PURSUIT OF MARINE ZOOLOGY AS AN 
 
 INCENTIVE TO GOSSIP ... ... ... 36 
 
 A SONG OF "VEILED REBELLION" ... ... 42 
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT ... ... ... 43 
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL ... ... ... 70 
 
 OF THE INFLUENCE OF ASSASSINATION UPON A 
 
 LANDSCAPE ... ... ... ... 103 
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED ... ... ... 113 
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND FAMINE MEMORIES ... 142 
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE ... ... ... 163 
 
 IRISH HISTORY CONSIDERED AS A PASTIME ... 2l8 
 
 THE SONG OF ART KAVANAGH ... ... 242 
 
 HOW ART KAVANAGH OF WEXFORD FOUGHT 
 
 RICHARD THE KING ... ... ... 243
 
 The littel teller tells hys littel minde 
 
 In littel tales to readers colde or kinde, 
 
 Some in plaine wordes, and some in wordes more blinde, 
 
 So nmche is tolde, yet muche remaynes behinde. 
 
 The Cunninge Craftsmanne.
 
 A SONG OF HOBBIES 
 
 TELL me truly, gentles fair, 
 What begat our hobbies ? Where 
 First they grew ? What unseen care 
 Gave each little mind its share ? 
 Tell me further, tell me true, 
 How they came to me and you ? 
 From the earth, or from the air, 
 Or the mystic everywhere ? 
 
 Nay, nay. JVho shall say? 
 Fortune s blindest gifts are they. 
 
 Were they bought, or were they found 
 In the air, or in the ground ? 
 Were they lent us from on high, 
 Merry playthings of the sky ? 
 Are they of immortal birth ? 
 Or mere mortal things of earth ? 
 For my weal, or for my woe, 
 Tell me, how do hobbies grow ? 
 Nay, nay. Who shall say? 
 Fortune s blindest gifts are they.
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 
 
 IRISH properties are reported to have their 
 drawbacks, and it is very possible that they 
 may have for their owners. For those who 
 are not their owners, nor ever likely to become 
 their owners, an Irish property I can answer 
 for it personally is the most delectable of 
 delectable play-grounds, or was so at a period 
 a good deal nearer to the hale-and-hearty 
 middle of the century than it is always pleasant 
 in these days of its flagging dotage to re- 
 member. Boy or girl, it mattered not which 
 you were, provided that you kept within cer- 
 tain prescribed boundaries boundaries probably 
 marked in your own mind with the natural 
 and charming pomposity of youth as " our 
 grounds," " our land " within those limits you 
 were free to roam, as you would, on foot or 
 upon pony-back, unchecked and unfollowed even 
 from afar by protesting maid or scandalized 
 
 3
 
 4 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 governess. Such, at least, was our own never- 
 sufficiently-to-be-blessed experience. 
 
 Probably the highest heights of joy, the 
 most transcendent depths of rapture, were only 
 to be found upon properties whose inner cir- 
 cumvallation boasted of a bog ; a moderately 
 uncut bog ; one rich in feathery tussocks and 
 in bog holes of immeasurable depth, and unsur- 
 passed capability in the way of fishing forth all 
 sorts of slimy, crawling, black, and many-legged 
 personages out of their oozy depths. Above 
 all, a bog rich in an " esker," or heath-covered 
 ridge, trending away, far as the eye could reach, 
 into blue, immeasurable distances, never yet 
 trodden by the feet of the explorer, but re- 
 maining always a region full of bewitching 
 suggestions, of haunting mystery, of dim, un- 
 travelled possibilities. A region from which 
 no amount of after-familiarity ever entirely 
 succeeded in stripping away the glamour. 
 
 This last quintessence of joy was not, as it 
 happened, in those days attainable by the young 
 person whose experiences I am about to relate. 
 For all that, she was content. Until larger 
 hopes and more spacious possibilities have arisen 
 to awaken discontent, the soul satisfies itself 
 reasonably enough upon the lesser ones, or 
 so philosophers, both in or out of short
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 5 
 
 frocks, have at various ages of the world dis- 
 covered. 
 
 By what good fortune for herself, by what 
 ill-fortune for those whose duty it was to 
 " tidy up " after her, the love of " creatures," 
 of " natural history," as in more dignified years 
 we term it, came to fall like a gift from the 
 gods upon that particular short-frocked philo- 
 sopher's path, I cannot now delay to inquire. 
 Legends survive of feloniously introduced lady- 
 birds, and treacherously concealed grasshoppers, 
 which hopped in the dead hours of midnight 
 upon nursery carpets, and even across the 
 persons of innocently sleeping bed-fellows, but 
 these, one must trust, are not true. One still 
 darker tale survives of a small, but, I am 
 assured, exceptionally clammy frog, which hav- 
 ing been carried in a hot little hand till it could 
 be carried no longer, was placed in the widely 
 open neck-frill of a younger brother, which 
 presented itself as a suitable receptacle, from 
 whence it rapidly travelled first to the victim's 
 neck, and next downhill over his entire re- 
 monstrating person, until it finally regained 
 daylight and liberty somewhere in the neigh- 
 bourhood of his shoes and socks. 
 
 Of these earlier misdoings all I can say is 
 that the culprit herself has no recollection of
 
 6 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 them. Nine years old remains fixed in her 
 mind as the period at which the propensity 
 burst literally and most unfiguratively burst 
 beyond farther hope of concealment, revealing 
 itself not alone in overflowing buckets, baskets, 
 tin pails, and similar receptacles, but, what was 
 regarded as a great deal more scandalous, in 
 bulging and discoloured pockets, out of which 
 came creeping, crawling, buzzing, croaking, 
 chirruping, and, no doubt, generally remon- 
 strating gentry, not usually counted as part 
 of " a good little girl's " natural properties or 
 reasonable " pets." 
 
 By way of for a moment interrupting these 
 biographical details, I may be allowed here to 
 remark that nine years old has always seemed 
 to me to be the really culminating moment, 
 the true pinnacle of human ambition. At that 
 favoured age babyhood, with its petty restric- 
 tions and humiliating sense of feebleness, is past 
 and done with. The first horrors of irrational 
 panic that chill, nipping dread of we know 
 not quite what, which lurks in the blood of 
 nearly every son and daughter of Eve is also 
 passed, or you pretend that it is, which comes 
 to much the same thing in the end. On the 
 other hand, the first premonitory chill of dis- 
 illusion, and what is of still more importance,
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 7 
 
 the first numbing sense of your own unaccount- 
 ably imposed limitations, are both alike far off. 
 Life spreads itself before you, large, and broad, 
 and long, and sunny. Birds sing, insects buzz, 
 the very stars overhead twinkle encouraging 
 remarks, addressed to you, and to you alone. 
 Such at least is the theory. It may be a true 
 or it may be a false one, but my own impression 
 is that the closer it is examined the more 
 reasonable will be found to be the grounds for 
 its adoption. 
 
 As a corroboration of that theory, as well 
 as by way of returning, as we all Jove to do, 
 from the general to the particular, I may 
 mention that the subject of the following 
 adventure still recalls a day, in the course of 
 that happy year of hope and blossom, when, 
 becoming temporarily possessed of a copybook, 
 destined for more practical, if also lowlier ends, 
 she inscribed, in a handwriting of quite in- 
 credible shakiness and illegibility, the names 
 of three snail-shells, two butterflies and four 
 moths copied out of Lardner's Cabinet En- 
 cyclopcedia, with spelling variations of her own 
 also of a limestone fossil, a piece of feldspar, 
 a fragment of mica, a stone celt, benevolently 
 bestowed by some one, and a piece of plum- 
 pudding stone set down as " Conglomerate."
 
 8 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 After which effort, pausing for a moment to 
 survey her achievement, and swelling with 
 natural pride, as a suitable crown to her labours 
 she inscribed above the rest, in a handwriting 
 even more tottering and elementary than what 
 had gone before, The Union of all the Sciences^ 
 
 by , her own name in full, with a calm 
 
 certainty of achievement, a deep indwelling 
 sense of recognized benefit to humanity, which 
 a Newton or a Darwin might have envied, 
 but which neither of them could possibly have 
 surpassed. 
 
 And yet are mortals ever destined to stand 
 upon the topmost peaks of self-satisfaction ? 
 Even for this aspiring naturalist, for this em- 
 bryo discoverer, life had its drawbacks. If less 
 pressing upon her than upon others, there still 
 were certain respects in which the long-recog- 
 nized limitations of her sex continued to assert 
 themselves. The most formidable, perhaps, 
 of these was the early recognition of the fact 
 that under no circumstances, by no possible 
 stretch of indulgence, would this coming Cuvier 
 or Buffon in short frocks ever be entrusted 
 with a gun ! This plainly tyrannical, and 
 heartless regulation had the natural effect of 
 curtailing at one fell swoop the entire realm 
 over which her future activities were to range,
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 9 
 
 and in which she was to record her triumphs. 
 Although, despite this humiliating restriction, 
 woods, flower-beds, kitchen-garden walks, the 
 back of the stables, the croquet ground, the 
 rabbit yard, and other probable places were 
 still daily scanned in full expectation that some 
 bird or quadruped " new to science " would 
 shortly present itself for her to discover, still 
 by degrees she began to see that the wider 
 fields being interdicted, it would be necessary 
 to confine herself within narrower ones. From 
 this cause it came to pass that winged insects, 
 especially butterflies, and, close behind butter- 
 flies, moths, grew to occupy the foremost 
 place in her affections, and from that day, for 
 many a year to come, their education as 
 caterpillars their capture, the exploration 
 and contemplation of their haunts, habits, 
 manners, customs, history, and civilization 
 generally, became fixed in her mind, not only 
 as the highest, but I may even go so far as 
 to say the only really important object of 
 human study. As for such puerile frivolities 
 as were known to grown-up people as " ac- 
 complishments," as " the arts," " painting," 
 " music," " literature," and so on, especially for 
 such a visibly futile variation of the last as was 
 summed up in school-rooms as " stories," and in
 
 io TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 drawing-rooms as "novels" or "romances," 
 these, that short-petti coated Buffon swept into 
 the dustbin with her scorn, and would as soon 
 have thought of voluntarily returning to baby- 
 bibs, or of going out riding with a leading- 
 rein, as of ever, in the whole course of her life, 
 deigning to occupy herself with them ! 
 
 Although, to those unacquainted with its 
 inner capabilities, entomology may appear to 
 be a harmless, and even a reasonably safe 
 entertainment, I would not have them take 
 up that opinion too hastily. It is true that, 
 compared with some of my heroine's earlier 
 objects of ambition, it might claim to be so 
 regarded ; yet I can assure the reader that 
 it would never have been so dearly beloved 
 as it was had it not afforded the very amplest 
 opportunities for getting into mischief, especially 
 if you happened to be a young person endowed 
 with rather remarkable gifts in that direction. 
 To walk out at dusk, for instance, with a bull's- 
 eye lantern in your hand, along the tottering 
 edge of some ivy-mantled ruin, where the 
 difference between masonry and leaves is hardly 
 perceptible even in the daytime, is a proceeding 
 that abounds in very exciting moments, quite 
 apart from the question of whether the ento- 
 mologist returns home with full or empty pill-
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE n 
 
 boxes ! The same bull's-eye lantern, carried 
 along the naked top of a sea cliff, from over 
 whose edge winged objects keep whizzing ; 
 while a hoarse roar from the Atlantic booms 
 in thunderous accents out of the void, and 
 the ground yawns and quivers in unexpected 
 places underfoot, is a yet more entrancing 
 performance, but that particular form of 
 rapture had not at this time grown to be 
 part of our heroine's daily experiences. 
 
 Even where no such delectable opportunities 
 as these presented themselves, there were no 
 lack of occasions which offered a fair chance of 
 breaking a leg or an arm. Then there was 
 always the satisfaction of doing something that 
 nobody else did ; something that, if not exactly 
 prohibited, was at least a source of a good deal 
 of perplexity and inconvenience to those about 
 you; something which had never been in- 
 cluded in any school-room curriculum, and which 
 no properly constituted governess could possibly 
 think the better of you for doing ! Apart from 
 all this ; apart even from the out-of-door joys 
 which it entailed, think of the dignity, of 
 the sense of personal importance which such 
 a pursuit conferred. Why, the very sonorous- 
 ness of the name was worth anything ; a 
 name which you secretly rolled round and round
 
 12 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 in your mouth, and applied to yourself as you 
 walked about the house. What dignity, what 
 majesty lay in its syllables En-to-mo-lo-gist ! 
 Could anything be more entrancing ? 
 
 But it is time to bring these discursive ob- 
 servations to an end, and come to the incident 
 which was the only excuse for ever beginning 
 them. Our Ambitious Entomologist's tenth 
 birthday had been celebrated in the previous 
 summer, and it was now getting to the middle 
 of the following spring. It had been an extra- 
 ordinarily long winter at least a dozen years 
 long, judged by later and less impatient 
 standards and she, like her betters, had been 
 pining for the spring. Lardner's Cabinet 
 Encyclopedia had in vain been turned over 
 for the hundredth time, until its brightest 
 plates had begun to lose their glow. She was 
 pining for something more real than Lardner ; 
 pining to go out with a real net, real pill-boxes, 
 and a real bull's-eye lantern, in search of real 
 moths, but so far, unfortunately, there were no 
 real moths abroad for her to go in search of. 
 Day after day a bitter east wind blew, nipping 
 back the spring, nipping down every creature 
 endowed with anything of the nature of an 
 epidermis. Our heroine, I imagine, cared little 
 in those days about the east wind, but the
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 13 
 
 moths apparently were wiser, and remained 
 snugly ensconced within their chrysalides, wait- 
 ing for the zephyrs that were to awaken them. 
 
 At last, late one evening, the weather changed 
 suddenly. A warm wind came blowing in from 
 the Atlantic, and as our Entomologist was going 
 to bed, it reached her cheeks through an open 
 window. Moreover, she saw that the upper 
 part of that window was covered with small 
 gnats, a sure sign, she knew, that moths were 
 on the wing. Had it been a little earlier in 
 the day her hat would have been on her head, 
 and she would have been out, net in hand, in 
 a twinkling. But, alas! it was bedtime, and 
 mild as that government was under which she 
 lived, still to that mildness there were limits, 
 and to go out-of-doors at bedtime, would have 
 been to pass -beyond them. And yet, the pity 
 of it ! To think of going tamely to one's 
 bed ! To think of merely sleeping when one 
 might be mothing ! Think too of what 
 chances might thereby be missed ! Why, the 
 " Great Unknown," the " New to Science " itself 
 might be waiting for one outside there in the 
 dark ! might be actually sitting and staring 
 with opalescent eyes from some tree trunk, and 
 only kept from being secured by this ridiculous 
 regulation of an eight o'clock bed hour !
 
 14 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Apart from the Great Unknown, which was 
 sure to be always lurking somewhere in the 
 background, there was a moth which, knowing 
 no English name for it, our Entomologist had 
 christened " The Whistler," from the noise it 
 made when it flew. She had caught it once, 
 and had vowed to herself that she would catch 
 it again. Its time for flying was one hour after 
 sunset, and again one hour before sunrise. 
 Sunset being already past, sunrise was resolved 
 upon, and upon that resolution she went to 
 bed, and shortly afterwards fell asleep. 
 
 She awoke with a violent start. Light was 
 streaming in at all the chinks of the window, 
 and she felt with a pang that she had already 
 overslept herself. Once the sun had passed a 
 certain point in the sky, there would be no 
 chance of catching " The Whistler," and surely 
 the sun must already be quite high ? Her 
 clothes lay not far from her, and practice had 
 made the getting into them a tolerably rapid 
 proceeding. This feat accomplished, she 
 stealthily opened her bedroom door, crept down 
 the creaking staircase, and through the silent 
 house. It struck her as she passed a passage 
 window that the light looked a trifle white and 
 odd, but she was too much occupied with trying 
 to creep along unheard, to pay much heed to
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 15 
 
 such a detail as that. In five minutes she had 
 reached a small side door, which opened out of 
 one of the wings, not far from the servants' 
 quarters. It was locked, but the key was there. 
 She turned it ; pulled back a bar ; in a minute 
 the door was open, and she had darted out, shut- 
 ting it behind her. Not, however, as she had in- 
 tended to do, noiselessly, and discreetly. On the 
 contrary, that inconsiderate door, slipping out 
 of her grasp, shut behind her with a portentous 
 bang, which, echoing through the house, seemed 
 bound to bring some one down to see who could 
 be disturbing it at so unseasonable an hour of 
 the morning. 
 
 Before its echoes had died away, our Ento- 
 mologist was already at a considerable distance. 
 Fear of recapture, a sudden desire not to have 
 her errand known, lent wings to her steps, and 
 sent her speeding down the gravel walk, and 
 across the grass of the nearest paddock as fast 
 as her feet would carry her. She had not gone 
 far, however, before she once more stopped 
 short, this time to stare open-mouthed at the 
 sky. There, plainly to be seen, over the low 
 green top of the hill, and dipping towards the 
 lower end of the lake, was not the sun, no- 
 thing of the sort, but the moon the cold, 
 indifferent moon, the governess of floods, the
 
 16 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 well-known enemy of all moths, and therefore 
 of all moth-hunters. Here was a disaster ! 
 Here was a contingency quite unprovided for 
 by Lardner. To meet with a setting moon 
 where one looked to find a rising sun ! Was 
 ever more startling inversion of nature recorded 
 by any perplexed naturalist ! What was to be 
 done ? that was the question. Above all, what 
 o'clock was it ? that was the first and most 
 important point to be decided. 
 
 This last question was answered with great 
 promptness, for at that moment from the other 
 side of the lake, the clock in the old castle 
 struck distinctly " One, Two, Three." Three! 
 In vain our Entomologist waited ; in vain she 
 besought the echoes to spare her even one hour 
 more. They died away, leaving her staring be- 
 fore her at that serenely swimming, that horribly 
 deceptive moon, which was now getting moment- 
 arily lower and lower, and threatening to leave 
 her without even its exasperating light. Three 
 o'clock ! that meant two hours at least before 
 anything like real honest daylight was to be 
 looked for. Two hours ! Who, looking back 
 into the dim vista of his youth, cannot recall 
 occasions when two hours seemed to stretch 
 away with all the formidableness of a long and 
 a most uncomfortable lifetime ?
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 17 
 
 It was humiliating, it was disappointing, but 
 there was no help for it, and her decision was 
 quickly given to return to bed, the more so 
 because, once her thoughts were allowed to run 
 in that direction, the idea possessed an attraction 
 which drew her towards it insensibly. Quietly, 
 therefore, she stole back across the grass, up 
 the gravel walk, and once more reached the 
 door by which her escape had been made. She 
 tried to open it ; at first gently, then more 
 energetically ; she shook it ; she turned the 
 handle round and round. Confusion and dire 
 mischief! It was once more securely locked ! 
 Some one, awakened by that unlucky clap, must 
 have descended the servants' stairs, found the 
 door open, and very properly secured it before 
 returning to bed. Here indeed was a calamity ! 
 What was our Entomologist to do ? Should 
 she wake up the house ; should she own to 
 her blunder, and humbly ask to be taken in, 
 or should she brave the matter out and remain 
 where she was till daylight opened the doors ? 
 She was not afraid that any special alarm 
 would ensue upon her not being found in 
 her bed. It was so much a matter of course 
 for her to go for an early ride before the 
 rest of the upstairs world were astir that it 
 would not awaken any surprise if she was
 
 i8 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 found to have already gone out. There re- 
 mained, therefore, only the question of those 
 long hours of solitude which stretched away 
 before her cold, and dull, and breakfastless 
 hours which must somehow or other be got 
 through. 
 
 Pride, however, is a wonderful sustainer, and 
 the pride of our Entomologist had in those 
 days hardly any limits. She made up her mind 
 that she would stay out, and would merely look 
 about her for some place in which to shelter 
 herself. After all, one could always make be- 
 lieve that it was the afternoon, and who could 
 be so silly as to mind being out alone for a few 
 hours of an afternoon ? 
 
 With this gallant resolution she marched 
 away, past various friendly doors, all of which 
 were now impenetrably shut and barred. There 
 was the dairy, which in those days looked out 
 upon this side of the house. What a tantalizing 
 smell of creaminess came floating through its 
 lattice-work to her nose ! There was the wood- 
 shed, there was the outer laundry, and there 
 were various other familiar haunts, all of which 
 were successively scanned, but, alas ! to not 
 one of which was any entrance to be obtained. 
 To a now startled conscience, it was not a little 
 alarming to find how completely everything
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 19 
 
 the whole scene, hitherto so familiar, so in- 
 variably kindly seemed to have assumed a new 
 aspect, the aspect of a hostile citadel. The 
 very walls overhead seemed to have a different 
 look to-day ; seemed to frown down at her in 
 a cold, granitic fashion, with an angry gleam 
 in their innumerable mica eyes. The shut 
 windows, the locked doors, the very gravel 
 under her feet everything seemed changed ! 
 Everything wore a look of surprised displeasure; 
 everything seemed to be pointing and frowning 
 at her. It was all very fine to say that one 
 could pretend that it was the afternoon, or any 
 other reasonable hour. The conscience knew 
 better, and dragged down the spirits of that 
 prowler about at ungodly hours, to the very 
 soles of her saturated shoes. 
 
 At last a door was discovered to be open. It 
 was only the door of a pheasantry, which had 
 latterly been made into a home for certain 
 rabbits and guinea-pigs. Consisting entirely of 
 iron and wire-netting, with a roof which only 
 covered the inner portion, leaving an outer 
 parterre for the inmates to walk abroad in, it 
 was not the most comfortable place in which to 
 spend the chilliest hours of the twenty-four ! 
 Still it had a roof, and our Entomologist accord- 
 ingly unlatched the outer gate, and ran in 
 rejoicingly.
 
 20 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 In her new-born need for companionship it 
 was a comfort to her to reflect that she could 
 now at least make sure of that of the rabbits 
 and guinea-pigs ; persons who if on ordinary 
 occasions she was apt to despise, would at 
 least now break in upon this very tedious 
 tete-a-tete with herself. In that expectation 
 she was, however, destined to disappointment. 
 With a clearer perception of the time of day 
 than she had shown, the rabbits and guinea-pigs 
 alike declined to be seduced out of their morn- 
 ing's nap, merely shook their lop-eared heads 
 or fat backs, and cuddled themselves down, 
 with contemptuous squeaks, into their corners. 
 
 To our conscience-stricken wanderer this was 
 a serious blow ! If your own rabbits your 
 mere paid pensioners, so to speak thought 
 your conduct inexcusable, what must other and 
 less dependent beings think of it ? Under or- 
 dinary circumstances their judgments might not 
 have troubled her, but this was very far from 
 being an ordinary occasion. There are hours of 
 despondency when it is probable that the con- 
 demnation of a fitchew, nay of a polecat, would 
 add a perceptible grain to the general account ! 
 It was with a sense alike of hostile judgment 
 and wounding ingratitude that our Entomologist 
 laid her head against the bars of the pheasantry 
 and dissolved into tears, in the middle of which
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 21 
 
 tears she was unexpectedly overtaken with 
 drowsiness, and fell asleep, her head still 
 resting against the bars. 
 
 For the second time she awoke with a violent 
 start. Where was she ? In her own bed, where 
 else ? Yet, no. Nothing could be less like 
 sheets and a pink quilt than what was at that 
 moment pressing against her neck. Then, if 
 not in bed, where was she ? It happened just 
 then that the light was in the most uncanny 
 and uncomfortable condition it could well have 
 been in. Strong enough to show dim shapes and 
 adumbrations silhouetted against the sky, dark 
 enough to leave an appallingly black residuum 
 about the bases of those shapes ; a blackness 
 which was like nothing natural, which seemed 
 to yawn and gape like " Tartar's vasty hell " 
 before the eyes of a very scared and shivering 
 small personage, out-of-doors by herself at four 
 o'clock in the morning ! 
 
 Fear shook her from head to foot. The bars 
 seemed to be fetters, the pheasantry was a dun- 
 geon, the shapes outside those of ogres, as 
 powerful as cruel. A crowd of dim terrors, 
 boding and terrible, rose and clutched at her 
 with skeleton fingers. Bloodless faces gleamed 
 for a moment and then vanished. " Creep 
 things," of incredible size and hairiness, seemed
 
 22 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 to be walking over her and tickling her with 
 their myriad feet. This last was not a terror 
 merely, but a humiliation as well, for if there 
 was one thing upon which our ten-year-old 
 naturalist prided herself, it ,was her absolute im- 
 munity from alarm of anything that walked or 
 crawled no matter upon how many legs. 
 
 Happily the daytime was now really ap- 
 proaching fast. It came with a rush of white 
 films across the tree-tops ; with a glad 
 awakening twitter from every bush and ivied 
 wall around. Cock pheasants began to crow, 
 rooks passed to and fro overhead, wood-pigeons 
 cooed from the hill wood, " 111 things of night 
 began to peak and pine," as the honest daylight 
 once more took possession of the scene. 
 
 With this return of daylight our Entomolo- 
 gist's courage began also to revive, for to be 
 out-of-doors by herself was far too familiar a 
 condition of things to occasion her any alarm. 
 With the subsiding of the supernatural troubles 
 the physical ones, however, began to make 
 themselves felt. She was horribly cold, and 
 how to get warmer she did not know. The 
 clock across the lake had that instant struck 
 five. It would be quite two hours before those 
 inhospitable doors would be open. Where 
 were those two chilly hours to be spent ?
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 23 
 
 Suddenly she bethought her of the cowhouse. 
 Would it be locked ? She thought not ; in 
 any case it was not far off, and was worth a 
 trial. Leaping to her feet she ran down the 
 winding walk towards it ; past the Bleach-green ; 
 past turn after turn, faster and faster, till she 
 stopped, breathless and palpitating, before the 
 cowhouse door. 
 
 Now, this cowhouse, to be candid, was not 
 a clean, nay, was, I may say, a very muck- 
 belittered place, and has long since been swept 
 away as a mere blot upon an otherwise orderly 
 landscape. In those days, however, it existed, 
 and was very dear to the heart of our Entomo- 
 logist, as well as to those of her immediate 
 congeners. Its entrance lay under an arch lead- 
 ing to a staircase. What a staircase ! How 
 creaking were its steps, how dark its corners, 
 what dusky festoonings of cobwebs hung over 
 it, what masses of hay fell upon you as you 
 mounted it ! 
 
 The loft to which this staircase led was 
 the home of innumerable families of scam- 
 pering mice, and its floor was riddled with 
 holes, some of which holes those above the 
 heads of the cows had probably made part of 
 the design of the architect, while others, scat- 
 tered vaguely here and there, could hardly
 
 24 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 have been intentional. To throw down arm- 
 fuls of hay through these holes upon the 
 fragrant noses of the inhabitants underneath 
 was a perennial pleasure. Some of the cows 
 were supposed to prefer their food rolled into 
 balls, and flung at them in that form, others to 
 like it best when it came in a shower, which fell 
 impartially over heads, horns, backs, and ground 
 below. So liberal were the feeders that it 
 was really not a little marvellous that the 
 cows were not oftener startled by the descent 
 of the hay-givers, as well as the hay they 
 provided. 
 
 To get into that loft, and to nestle down in 
 it ; to breathe that warm, cow-scented air ; to 
 be comforted by the neighbourhood of those 
 big, friendly-eyed beasts, in place of the peevish, 
 thin-souled unfriendliness of the rabbits and 
 guinea-pigs, was a consummation after which 
 the soul of our Entomologist pined. Alas ! for 
 the third time that morning she found herself 
 baffled by Fate. There was no lock to the door, 
 but there was a bar, and although that bar was 
 on the outside, it was drawn through its staple 
 with a strength and an ingenuity which ren- 
 dered it quite immovable to a set of very chilled, 
 and not particularly strong little fingers. Pull 
 as they would, shake it as they would, it de-
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 25 
 
 clined to move, and again tears were very near 
 breaking forth over this fresh unkindness. 
 
 Happily, at this melancholy moment an un- 
 expected and a very consoling incident occurred. 
 While vainly tugging at the bar, our Entomo- 
 logist suddenly perceived that something soft 
 and fluffy was moving away under her fingers. 
 Her first impulse was to start violently, her 
 next to close her fingers down over it, lest it 
 should escape. Opening them cautiously, she 
 perceived that it was a moth, and moreover a 
 moth the like of which she had never seen 
 before a moth of the most vivid and dazzling 
 green, save for a single bar of delicate fawn, 
 which crossed it from tip to tip. What could 
 it be ? Had any one ever seen it before ? Did 
 Lardner know it ? Had Mr. Newman or Mr. 
 Doubleday these were names which had just 
 begun to come within her ken ever seen the 
 like ? She felt perfectly certain in her own 
 mind that not one of them had ever done so. 
 Then, if not, it was new ! it was the long- 
 looked-for, it was the " Unknown to Science," 
 destined, from the beginning of things, to be 
 discovered by her, and by her alone ! 
 
 Diving into her pocket, she extracted from it 
 a chip pill-box, which had been destined to con- 
 tain " The Whistler." It was too small for
 
 26 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 the new captive, but with a little ingenuity she 
 managed to get it in. Pill-boxed, and safe in 
 her pocket, she was able to face the world with 
 the confidence of one who feels that her destiny 
 has begun to fulfil itself. To get indoors and 
 to consult Lardner ; to make sure of her facts 
 though, indeed, she felt already sure enough 
 was now her great object. Alas ! those two 
 inexorable hours still remained, and still had to 
 be got through. 
 
 Casting round in search of some shelter, her 
 attention was suddenly arrested by a neighbour- 
 ing haystack, a large one, containing the whole 
 winter provender of the cows. If she got under 
 that haystack, and pulled a few armfuls of hay 
 over her as a blanket, that at least would be 
 better, she thought, than standing where she 
 was. Upon going towards it with that inten- 
 tion, she observed that a small hole a few feet 
 above the ground had been left in the stack so 
 that air might circulate through it. The sight 
 of this hole inspired her with a still better idea. 
 Why not get into the stack itself ? If she could 
 creep into it by that hole she could hardly fail 
 to be warm enough, and could lie at her ease, 
 and at full length. No sooner thought of than 
 carried into execution. The hole was just out 
 of reach, but some large stones were lying near,
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 27 
 
 and by mounting upon the biggest of these our 
 Entomologist managed to hook her elbows into 
 the hole, and to pull herself up to it. A little 
 more wriggling and kicking and she was inside, 
 her whole body, with the exception of her feet, 
 being comfortably tucked away in the hay. 
 
 The hole narrowed rapidly, but this she did 
 not mind, reflecting it would only keep her the 
 warmer. Her feet, however, being still cold, 
 she pulled away the hay before her with her 
 hands, until she had made a regular burrow for 
 herself, and could lie in it at full length, feet 
 and all. It was a very warm burrow, and, half 
 numb with cold as she had been, the contrast 
 was at first delicious, and she inly congratulated 
 herself upon the brilliancy of this her latest and 
 most successful idea. 
 
 Little by little, however, the hole, at first 
 rather warm, grew to be very warm, and at last 
 unendurably hot and stuffy, until, half choked, 
 and tormented into the bargain by the stalks of 
 hay, which tickled her face, she determined to 
 change her attitude, so as to lie with her head 
 towards the opening and her feet the other way. 
 
 Upon attempting to execute this manoeuvre, 
 what was her horror to discover that it was 
 absolutely impossible for her to do anything 
 of the sort ! In vain she tried to work her
 
 28 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 shoulders round, almost breaking her neck in 
 two in the effort ; the closely-packed hay held 
 her like a vice, and absolutely forbade advance 
 in any direction, save one, namely straight for- 
 ward into the stack, which would, of course, 
 have the result of leading her further and fur- 
 ther away from the light and safety which was 
 to be found at the entrance. 
 
 The sympathetic reader may easily imagine 
 the agony which now possessed our unfortunate 
 adventuress ! This time it was no imaginary 
 peril either, but a very real one so real that 
 for years afterwards, she has owned to me, 
 she was in the habit of waking up at night, 
 believing that she was once more in the stack, 
 and was once more undergoing the shock and 
 horror of that first discovery ! In vain she 
 next tried to back out. This movement, like 
 the first, proved to be absolutely impossible. 
 Had there been any one outside it might have 
 been done, but to extricate herself in this 
 fashion unaided, was, she soon discovered, out 
 of question. 
 
 Terror had by this time reached a point 
 where reason almost gave way. Voices sounded 
 in her ears terrible voices, roaring out half- 
 heard but horrible messages. There were mo- 
 ments when the whole situation seemed to her
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 29 
 
 to be unreal ; moments when it seemed as if it 
 were to some one else some one whom she had 
 read about in a story rather than to herself, 
 that this dreadful thing had happened. And 
 again the next minute, like a flood, it would 
 rush back across her mind that it was nothing 
 of the sort ; that it was to no bloodless child of 
 fiction, but to herself, her own very self, that it 
 had happened ; that she, and no one else, was 
 shut up in this dreadful, living, hay-made tomb. 
 
 Nightmare followed nightmare. A vision of 
 the haystack being opened long afterwards, and 
 a skeleton her own skeleton being found in 
 it, as she had once found the skeleton of a frog 
 in a dried-up tank, rose for a moment before 
 her brain. The hay too ! There was some- 
 thing so treacherous, so horrible in the idea of 
 the hay the friendly, well-beloved hay, with 
 which she and the others had played ten thou- 
 sand times, whose very smell had an endearing 
 flavour that it, of all things, should have 
 turned into her destroyer ! 
 
 Wild with terror, she next began twisting 
 herself over and over, backwards and forwards 
 as far as the limits of her burrow would allow, 
 hurting and bruising herself badly in her agon- 
 ized efforts to escape. She tried to scream, but 
 the hay seemed to absorb her voice, so that it
 
 30 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 grew choked, and lost before any sound could 
 penetrate to the outside. Exhausted at last by 
 these efforts, she lay like a dead creature, almost 
 believing by moments that she icas dead ; almost 
 glad that she was, that so, at least, this horrible 
 business might be over and done with. 
 
 No one, however, least of all no one at ten 
 years old, succumbs to disaster without a second, 
 a third, and a fourth effort. Presently the idea 
 came to our prisoner, that since she could not 
 turn round, and so escape by the way she had 
 come in, she had better perhaps push on 
 in the direction in which she lay, and try if 
 she could not reach the other side. A new 
 horror, however, suddenly presented itself. 
 What if the passage never did reach the other 
 side ? What if it came to an end in the middle 
 of the stack ? In that case she would merely 
 have lost the one hope of being extricated, which 
 she still retained. 
 
 Sickening as this idea was, it had to be faced, 
 and summoning all her courage, she made a 
 resolute effort to move onward. Little by little, 
 an inch at a time, digging a trough for herself 
 with her hands as she went on, and dragging 
 her body through it, she advanced slowly and 
 laboriously, like some small mole, or other ter- 
 restrial digger. At any moment the hay might
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 31 
 
 come upon her from above, and then indeed 
 there would be an end of all things. Mean- 
 time, it had not yet come down, and she was 
 certainly making some way. 
 
 When, with great difficulty and innumerable 
 delays, she had traversed about two-thirds of 
 the stack, a faint ray of light, a partial mitiga- 
 tion of the darkness in which she had hitherto 
 lain, began to penetrate to her from the outer 
 world. Hope, nearly dead, sprang up again in 
 her breast, and she was upon the point of think- 
 ing that after all she might perhaps make her 
 own way out unaided, when she was once more 
 brought up short by a new obstacle, this time 
 by a huge beam of wood which, running right 
 across the middle of the stack, made it impos- 
 sible for her to advance a single inch further. 
 
 It was this beam which had, no doubt, kept 
 the passage open. At the same time, it now 
 put a stop to all farther advance, for even had 
 she been able to move it, it was clear that the 
 hay would simply in that case have closed in on 
 her. All that she could do was to creep as close 
 to it as she dared, and stretching out her hands, 
 draw any hay she could get hold of towards her, 
 tucking it away under her body, so as by that 
 means to open the passage and let in a little 
 more light. Beyond this there was nothing to
 
 32 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 be done but to wait, in the hope that sooner or 
 later some one would pass by, who would hear 
 her if she called. 
 
 At last how long after her imprisonment 
 began I cannot say, but to herself it seemed 
 many days there did reach her ears the sound 
 of voices, not phantom ones this time, but 
 genuine human voices, the voices of two of the 
 workmen talking together somewhere near the 
 cowhouse. 
 
 A, flood of hope broke over her brain, and 
 lifting herself as much as she could, she shouted 
 again and again, stretching out her hands fran- 
 tically towards the entrance. For some time 
 she failed to attract their attention. Happily, 
 one of the men had occasion to pass between the 
 stack and the cowhouse, and hearing his step 
 approaching, she again uttered a piercing shriek, 
 and this time there was no doubt that the man 
 heard, for she could hear his responsive roar of 
 terror and dismay, as, throwing down the pitch- 
 fork which he held in his hands, he fled for his 
 life. 
 
 Had it been the middle of the night probably 
 nobody would have ventured again to approach 
 that bewitched haystack. Happily in broad 
 daylight curiosity after a time overcame super- 
 stition, for the steps presently returned, and
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 33 
 
 after a good deal more delay, and a good deal 
 more suspense on the part of the prisoner, she 
 was able to make them understand that it was 
 no "pooka," no " clurigan," but a living person 
 herself, in short who was calling to them 
 from the inside of the stack. 
 
 Even when this had at last been made clear, 
 and when two stout pairs of arms had been set 
 to work to liberate her, it took a considerable 
 time and nearly the total demolition of the hay- 
 stack before that deliverance could be accom- 
 plished. But when at last it was accomplished; 
 when, after that dreadful term of incarceration, 
 her feet once more touched solid earth ; when 
 she could again breathe and see with comfort ; 
 then, ah then, what a lovely world it was that 
 burst upon her view ! What a glory lay upon 
 every blade of grass ; what beauty, as of heaven 
 itself, bathed the stones, the tree trunks, the 
 cowhouse, the very muck-heaps ! No Dante 
 fresh from visiting his Inferno, no Milton newly 
 " escaped the Stygian night, through utter and 
 through middle darkness borne," ever revisited 
 the light, or felt "its vital sovereign lamp" 
 with a more complete, a more absolute sense of 
 beatitude. And when, turning away from this 
 scene of her miseries, she began to retrace her 
 steps towards the house, and could see it shining
 
 34 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 ahead of her through the trees the house, the 
 House of Houses, the Beloved one how dif- 
 ferent did it look from that stony aspect of it 
 which had met her eyes in the early dawn ! 
 What pitying glances, on the contrary, did it 
 seem now to be bestowing upon her ! How it 
 stretched out its arms towards its truant, who 
 had been in such deadly peril since they last 
 enclosed her ! How all its open windows and 
 doors seemed to be calling to her, and how, 
 as she ran sobbing along the path, her own 
 heart yearned, and thrilled, and leaped towards 
 it in return ! 
 
 It was not until hours after all this ; not 
 until our repentant wanderer had been received, 
 scolded, questioned, finally kissed, and com- 
 forted ; not till she had had some hours of 
 much-needed sleep in her own bed under the 
 pink quilt ; not till after all this excitement 
 was at an end, that, for the first time since the 
 early morning, she suddenly remembered her 
 capture, that capture which was to make her 
 name famous for ever ! Springing from her 
 bed, she ran quickly to where her jacket had 
 been thrown, and plunged her hand with beat- 
 ing heart into its pocket. Alas ! in her many 
 writhings and wrigglings the chip box had long 
 since resolved itself into a mere handful of
 
 AN ENTOMOLOGICAL ADVENTURE 35 
 
 broken -chips, while of the captive itself the 
 " Great Unknown," the " New to Science," the 
 first, the only one of the sort that she in her 
 life ever beheld it had resolved itself into a 
 few pinches of vividly green dust at the very 
 bottom of her pocket !
 
 ON THE PURSUIT OF MARINE 
 ZOOLOGY AS AN INCENTIVE TO 
 GOSSIP 
 
 I HAVE sometimes flattered myself, when 
 temporarily established in some more than 
 usually out-of-the-way spot an Atlantic- 
 scourged lodging let us say, or the outworks 
 of a lighthouse, or some such picturesque 
 locality that I could get on without any 
 one to cook for me. It was an exhilarating 
 dream, and I have even gone so far as to 
 try once or twice to reduce it to practical 
 experience, but must own that the plan is not 
 one that I can conscientiously recommend for 
 general adoption. Self-made stir-about is in- 
 digestible, unless stirred for a longer period 
 than impromptu cooks are wont to bestow 
 upon it. Bacon, fried over a sitting-room 
 fire, is apt to leave more permanent remin- 
 iscences of its presence than one would think 
 
 36
 
 PURSUIT OF MARINE ZOOLOGY 37 
 
 possible, while a prolonged course of tinned 
 soups and potted meats has other results 
 needless to particularize. If, worn out with 
 these amateur efforts, one hastily summons 
 some local assistant to one's aid, no amount of 
 patriotism I am speaking of Ireland will en- 
 able me to assert that one invariably finds even 
 an embryo Francatelli ready to one's hand. 
 This confession will explain why it is that I 
 cherish such a special sentiment of gratitude 
 towards my good friend Mrs. O'Donnell, who 
 upon more than one occasion has advanced 
 gallantly to the rescue, when, having rashly 
 thrust myself into some such situation as those 
 indicated above, I was suffering from the natural 
 consequences. 
 
 Herself a native of the west of Ireland, Mrs. 
 O'Donnell is well acquainted with its capabilities, 
 and what is even more important, with its 
 limitations. Her own native region is not, how- 
 ever, either Clare or Galway, which were my 
 two chief haunts at that time, but Roscommon, 
 where, according to her own account, she had 
 always lived " with the very heighth of quality." 
 I think she must have done so, for her con- 
 versation showed exactly the blending which 
 comes of a more or less conscious copying 
 of the talk of one's nominal superiors, grafted
 
 38 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 on to a native vocabulary of immeasurably 
 greater vigour and picturesqueness. 
 
 She was an excellent cook, but her talk 
 was better than even her " made dishes," 
 and our morning dialogues ostensibly upon 
 the subject of ducks and chickens were apt to 
 stray to a greater distance from those topics 
 than would be believed by any one who has not 
 realized from what insignificant starting-points 
 the conversation of two really intelligent and 
 sympathetic people will in time diverge. 
 
 After this last remark, which has a flavour 
 about it of vainglory, I had better hasten to add 
 that my own share of these dialogues was all 
 but entirely negative, being limited to a prelim- 
 inary question, with perhaps an appropriate 
 interjection thrown in now and then, whenever 
 the stream of Mrs. O'Donnell's eloquence showed 
 some symptoms of abating. 
 
 Confidences are so enticing that, once begun, 
 it is difficult to leave them off, however little 
 flattering they may be to the confider's vanity. 
 I had better therefore confess that a deep 
 and entirely self-interested design lay at the 
 base of the apparent carelessness with which 
 I was in the habit of alluring Mrs. O'Donnell 
 into the stream of her professional reminiscences. 
 Although her good-will toward me had few
 
 PURSUIT OF MARINE ZOOLOGY 39 
 
 limits, there was one point upon which she more 
 than once frankly told me that I was really too 
 great a trial to be put up with. That point 
 was as follows. Close to my door, and still 
 closer to hers the kitchen door Jay on more 
 than one of these occasions the shingly shore 
 of that long sea-loch known as the Greater 
 Killary, upon whose southern bank I was the 
 happy temporary owner of a cottage. To 
 dredge in those friendly, and not too per- 
 turbing waters ; to extract from them every 
 wriggling, writhing, prickly, slimy, glassy, 
 brittle-rayed, tentacle-armed, spine-protected, 
 or weed-resembling creature that their depths 
 afforded, was at that date not merely the 
 main occupation of my life, but its serious, 
 though, I need hardly say, entirely self- 
 appointed, business and avocation. 
 
 Brought to the shore in pails and buckets, 
 where were receptacles to be found in which 
 my captures, possibly discoveries, could be 
 bestowed ? Only one hunting-ground for such 
 receptacles lay within reach, and that one 
 alas, poor Mrs. O'Donnell ! was the kitchen. 
 Jars, jam-pots, milk-pans comparatively venial 
 thefts being quickly exhausted, the votary of 
 marine zoology next laid felonious hands upon 
 the very arcana of the place, upon pie-dishes,
 
 4 o TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 upon salad-bowls, upon shall I, dare I confess 
 it ? frying-pans, fish-pans and stew-pans, so 
 long that is to say as they were the "best" 
 ones, for the viler, unlined, and therefore 
 readily corroding ones were perfectly safe 
 from such assaults. 
 
 These depredations being of almost daily 
 occurrence, it will be seen how necessary 
 it became to find also some daily topic upon 
 which to divert conversation when the stream 
 of Mrs. O'Donnell's eloquence seemed likely 
 to descend in all its native vigour upon the 
 marauder's head. Like other habitual criminals 
 I grew excessively cunning, and soon discovered 
 that to turn that eloquence rapidly upon the 
 sayings and doings of her previous employers 
 was the only way of averting it from myself 
 and my delinquencies. In this manner I 
 unintentionally acquired a good deal of rather 
 miscellaneous information about the various 
 families which had at different times had the 
 advantage of Mrs. O'Donnell's services. It 
 was an odd result of a prolonged and con- 
 scientious series of zoological investigations, but 
 I am afraid that it was the only one which 
 permanently resulted from it ! 
 
 Of these families the chief was the now 
 rather embarrassed family of the Carrowmores,
 
 PURSUIT OF MARINE ZOOLOGY 41 
 
 upon whose estate Mrs. O'Donnell had been 
 born, in whose kitchen she had graduated, 
 and in whose affairs she took the deepest and 
 most affectionate interest. With me her theme 
 was chiefly the last Lord Carrowmore, although 
 from her account he seems to have been rather 
 a degenerate member of a well-known and 
 stalwart house. Indeed Mrs. O'Donnell's whole 
 tone in speaking of him presented an odd mix- 
 ture of awe for what he represented, combined 
 with a sort of regretful pity for what as a 
 matter-of-fact he himself was. I give her 
 narrative as nearly as possible as it reached 
 me, omitting a few irrelevancies.
 
 A SONG OF " VEILED REBELLION " 
 
 THEY say that grave perils surround me, 
 
 That foes are on every hand ; 
 That to right, and to left, and around me, 
 Red murder is stalking the land. 
 Yet I sit, as you see, 
 
 ' Neath the shade of a tree, 
 With my booh on my knee. 
 
 I am one of the demons accursed, 
 
 Detested, denounced from of old ; 
 For whose blood the whole land is athirst, 
 Or so I am credibly told. 
 Yet I sit, as you see, 
 
 1 Neath the shade of a tree, 
 With my look on my knee. 
 
 My safety is guarded all day 
 
 By stalwart protectors in green, 
 Who roam with my maids thro' the hay, 
 And happily rarely are seen. 
 While I sit, as you see, 
 
 'Neath the shade of a tree, 
 With my book on my knee. 
 42
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 
 
 " IN course you're aware, ma'am, they were 
 always great people, the Carrowmores, the very 
 top and glory of all the noble families of 
 Roscommon," Mrs. O'Donnell would begin. 
 " Thought a power of themselves, they did, 
 and small wonder ! Grand-looking ladies and 
 gentlemen, every one of them ! Why to see Mr. 
 John George that's the present lord coming 
 up the avenue of Castle Gaddery, with his chest 
 tossed out, and he not looking at you, no, nor 
 seeing you, no more than if you weren't in it at 
 all dear me, it was a pleasure ! They were all 
 like that ; grand gentry, high-steppin' and 
 proud, every one of them. A real out-and-out 
 noble family. Dear me ! dear me ! 
 
 " What sort of a place was Castle Gaddery, 
 ma'am ? Dear heart ! doesn't every one know 
 that there's not its match in all Ireland, let 
 alone the county of Roscommon ! Why, 
 
 43
 
 44 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 when the old lord and lady that's my lord's 
 father and mother was first married, 'twas 
 four horses they'd have out whenever they went 
 to take the air in the neighbourhood, so it was 
 four horses, yes, indeed, not a horse less ! 
 That was before my time, but 'twas always the 
 same, always. Why, when the railway was first 
 opened to Athlone, I've heard say her old lady- 
 ship could not be got to step into the train, no 
 nor to look at it, 'cept she might sit in her own 
 coach the whole time ! Yes, indeed, and sit in 
 it she did, too, till the day of her death, till the 
 day of her death, did her old ladyship ! Oh, a 
 grand family they were always, and a grand 
 house, and a grand place, and grand ways 
 entirely ! 
 
 " Too much grandeur is it, ma'am ? Well, 
 may be so, indeed, the way the property is 
 now. Still, rich or poor, they were always 
 like that ; always great and respected. Held 
 their heads high, higher than any one else in 
 the county ; young and old, first and last, all 
 the same, none like them far or near ; all, that 
 is, but the last one my lord, as I always 
 called him, having lived with him so long. 
 He was never like a real Carrowmore at all, 
 so he was not, poor dear, kind gentleman ; 
 quite a different sort entirely ! Small and thin
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 45 
 
 in the body, a trifling-looking man to be one 
 of that stock. A dark skin he had, with a 
 narrow sort of a face, and only a small bit of 
 a black moustache on his upper lip, whereas 
 the Carrowmores, every one of them, were 
 fair men, with beautiful grand beards on their 
 chins as they got on in life. Beautiful, 
 indeed, beautiful ! " 
 
 Mrs.O'Donnell would pause and sigh, stroking 
 her own chin down with an air of contemplation. 
 
 " Maybe his looks wouldn't have mattered so 
 much, only that it was his ways, too, you see, 
 ma'am, that were different ; not like that family's 
 ways at all, at all ! How he come to be so dif- 
 ferent I never could think ; but it was a pity, a 
 great pity ! From the time he was a boy he 
 was always the same ; coshering round with the 
 poor people for one thing, and listening to their 
 foolish talk ; that and wandering about by 
 himself, or sitting up half the night to read 
 books as common-looking books as ever you 
 saw in your life ; not like a lord's books at all, 
 so they wer'n't. Writing away for hours too at 
 a time he'd be, so that any one 'd think it was 
 paid he was for doing it. I understand as 
 often as not 'twould be poetry he'd be writing. 
 Poetry ! to think of that ! My God ! and he 
 a Carrowmore ! Poor dear gentleman ! poor
 
 46 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 dear gentleman ! He was as kind a man as ever 
 lived, and a good master, too, but it was a 
 sad trouble to the family. 
 
 " Did / ever read any of his poetry, 
 ma'am ! No, indeed, what would ail me to be 
 reading it? Terrible indeed, terrible! Still, I 
 always maintain he was a well-meaning gentle- 
 man, and so I'll say to the day of my death, 
 let who will be there. He might be a bit 
 foolish in some things, but he had the nicest, 
 easiest ways ever / knew in a gentleman ; yes, 
 and a sharp tongue he had, too, in his head, had 
 me lord, mind you, when he chose. Oh, yes, 
 ma'am ; there was none durst take a liberty with 
 him, simple as he seemed, so there was not. 
 Generous ? 'deed, you may say that ! he was 
 generous why he would give the very coat off 
 his back, or the shoes off his feet, so he would, 
 and not look to see if he was thanked either, 
 though 'twas terrible poor he was himself, 
 that is, for a Carrowmore, and he the eldest 
 of all. 'Twasn't at his own place, Castle 
 Gaddery, he lived, you understand, in those 
 days I'm speaking of, ma'am. 'Twas only 
 in a small little house six miles, or maybe 
 seven miles, below Shannon-bridge ; a house no 
 bigger than this one, if as big. His own 
 house, Castle Gaddery, had been shut up ever
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 47 
 
 since the old lord died. Why, the roof of it 
 alone cost more, I'm told, to keep up than my 
 lord, God help him, had to live on in the year. 
 However, that didn't seem to matter to him. 
 He was always that simple and natural, I 
 believe, if you'll credit me, he liked a small 
 house best, so he did ! It was in and out, in 
 and out of doors with him the whole day long. 
 Sometimes he'd be wandering along by the river- 
 bank, or sitting writing up in an old Dane's 
 Fort of a place there was at the back beyont. 
 Then indoors again, playing a bit of a tune 
 maybe on the piany, and with that out again, 
 over and over again. As often as not he'd be 
 doing nothing, only sitting and staring at the 
 sky, or the trees, and smiling to himself ! 
 Foolish ways ; 'deed yes, so they were, only / 
 never minded him, you see, being so used 
 to his goings-on. 
 
 " A large establishment ! Oh bless you, no, 
 ma'am ; there was only meself in the house, 
 and a couple of girls under me, and an old 
 man they called Phineas Ruddy, that had been 
 stable-helper in the old lord's time. A fool he 
 was, if ever there was a fool born into this world, 
 was that Phineas Ruddy, God knows ; yes, 
 indeed, he was a fool, and worse than a fool. 
 
 " Didn't he have any of his relations with
 
 48 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 him ? Well no, not to say living with him, 
 ma'am. You see the house was that ill- 
 convenient, as one might say, being all doors 
 and windows. Now and then some of his 
 nephews and nieces would come for a bit 
 very kind it was of them, and a fine fuss his 
 lordship would be in beforehand to make sure 
 they had all they wanted. Now and then, too, 
 he'd have a gentleman friend to stay with him, 
 when nobody else was about queer-looking 
 gentlemen some of them were, the queerest 
 ever / saw, with long hair, and the oddest 
 made clothes. And talk, talk ! dear help us, 
 how those gentlemen did talk ! Outlandish 
 languages some of them, so they did, but / 
 never minded. As sure as one of them would 
 arrive, me lord would be more out of doors 
 than ever, sailing down the river, or going into 
 caves with candles, or walking about repeating 
 poetry, and a power of such-like doings. Harm- 
 less ? Well, yes, harmless in course, only 
 queer, you know more especially when you 
 think of his being a Carrowmore ! 
 
 " Well, ma'am, the troubled times come on 
 after I'd been about six years with his lordship, 
 and the whole country was turned upside down, 
 what with meetings and speeches and seranad- 
 ings up and down the world with tin pikes
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 49 
 
 and gold crowns, and harps dressed up in 
 green ribbons, and flags with ' Death to the 
 Tyrants ' and ' Glory to Irin,' and the rest of 
 the goings-on ! There was a grand meeting 
 soon after it all began up at Ballinabarney, the 
 first ever there was in that part of the country, 
 and a number of speeches made by Parliament 
 gentlemen come down to it a purpose from 
 Dublin. Grand speeches I'm told they were, 
 telling the people that they were not going to 
 be slaves no longer, and they so pleased to be 
 told it, the creatures, that you might have heard 
 them whooping, and screeching, and making the 
 devil's own diversion right away at our back 
 gate, which was more nor a mile from the place, 
 yes, indeed, more nor a mile. I heard from one 
 that was at it, that me lord was specially spoke 
 of by name, as a * blood-sucker,' and a * di- 
 vourer of orphins,' and a * coorooneted ghoul,' 
 because of Castle Gaddery, you know, being not 
 far off, ma'am, though it was little lie ever got 
 out of it, as every one in the world knew, the 
 whole property being swallowed up with debts, 
 and mortgages, and the like. I remember by 
 the same token as they were going home that 
 afternoon, a lot of young fellows stopped at the 
 cross roads, which was just below the house, and 
 hooted and screeched at the tops of their voices
 
 50 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 4 To Hell with Carrowmore,' and * Three 
 cheers for the little Preghaun's buryin' ! ' 
 
 " What did they mean by Preghaun ? Oh, 
 that was just a name they had for him because 
 of his being so black, and so small, you know. 
 Me lord heard them himself, for I saw him 
 standing outside the study window at the time, 
 with his head a one side, and he listening for 
 all the world as if he liked it, though I don't 
 suppose he rightly could. 
 
 " Well, ma'am, me lord's nephews and nieces 
 they didn't come over at all, at all, that year to 
 stop with him, leastways none of his nieces did, 
 and I misremember that any of his nephews did 
 'cept it was Mr. Algernon that's Mr. John 
 George's I mean the present lord's eldest son. 
 He came for a short time at the beginning of 
 the troubles, and there was great talk between 
 him and me lord, and Mr. Clancy, the agent, 
 and I heard Mr. Algernon say there was nothing 
 like firmness, and that you oughtn't to give 
 way, not if it was ever so. You'll wonder 
 how I heard, but I was putting by some of the 
 chimbley ornaments, as it happened that after- 
 noon, in a closet which was convenient to the 
 study, so I heard a good deal of what went 
 on. Mr. John George, it seems, wrote the 
 same thing from London, and very displeased
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 51 
 
 he was with me lord, I heard, for being so 
 weak and easy-going, giving way at every turn, 
 and letting the property be destroyed and 
 rejuced in his hands, he having, as Mr. John 
 George told him, only a life use of it, so that 
 it was his duty to remember those that came 
 after him, and not to let the rents be cut down 
 and rejuced the way they were. Well, ma'am, 
 after all their talking, Mr. Algernon he went 
 off to London by the early train, and me lord 
 he just stayed on by himself, and in and out 
 and about with him, the same as usual, not 
 appearing to notice anything that was going on. 
 That was one of the queer things about him. 
 To see him you'd never believe anything was 
 happening in the country, no more than if Mr. 
 Parnell, and Mr. Davitt, and the rest of the 
 Parliament gentlemen had never been born nor 
 heard of ! 
 
 " Didn't he read the papers and learn what 
 was happening that way ? Well, if you'll 
 take my word for it, ma'am, I don't believe 
 he did, or as good as never. There was no 
 Dublin paper, or Cork, or Limerick paper 
 come to him to my certain knowledge the 
 whole time I was in the house, and only one 
 London one I misremember what the name 
 of it was now "
 
 52 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 "TAe Times?" 
 
 " Oh, no, ma'am, I shouldn't have mis- 
 remembered that name on account of its being 
 all but the same, you may say, as the Irish 
 Times; 'twas a much smaller paper whatever 
 its name was. Anyway he had that, and a 
 couple more that used to come to him every 
 week. Their names began with an A, both 
 of them, that I'm sure of, for I had to open 
 and iron them out by the kitchen fire. Those 
 he'd read, but as for the other, as often as not 
 it would be lying uncut day after day till 
 I'd ask his lordship if I might take it to top 
 the jam-pots with. ' Certainly, Mrs. O'Donnell ; 
 to be sure, my good Mrs. O'Donnell,' he'd 
 say, not knowing what I was saying to him, 
 the creature, no more than if it was Greek I 
 was talking, but smiling up at me with that 
 look he had in his eyes when he was thinking 
 of something else : very aggravating some people 
 thought it, only / didn't mind, being so used, 
 you see, to his ways. 
 
 " One thing there was I couldn't get used 
 to though, and that was the way he would sit 
 the whole day long with the windows open, 
 and the blinds pulled up to the very top ; yes, 
 indeed, all day, ma'am, and half the night too, 
 often ! Dreadful it was to see, remembering
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 53 
 
 the bad work that was going on about in 
 the country ; as every one else in the world 
 knew if he didn't. 
 
 " * Hadn't you better let me shut down 
 that window, me lord ? ' I'd say to him, coming 
 in from the kitchen, and he maybe standing 
 there with a candle in his hand, looking at the 
 books in the book-case, or else walking up and 
 down the room, and as plain to be seen, though 
 he was but a small gentleman, as a bluebottle 
 fly on a gas-lamp ! Tempting Providence, it 
 was, no better ! for none could tell who 
 mightn't be outside there in the dark, con- 
 venient in the bushes, and only waiting and 
 watching on the sly till they could get him 
 easiest, and be off before e'er a one could touch 
 them. 
 
 " However, I might as well have talked 
 to an old image that he kept on the shelf for 
 anything he minded. * What's that, Mrs. 
 O'Donnell ? " he'd say, looking round at me 
 in a sort of half-awake way, so that I'd know 
 that he didn't hear or heed, the creature, 
 what was being said to him, though always, I 
 will say, as civil as civil. 'Shut down the 
 window?' he'd say then. 'Oh, dear, no, Mrs. 
 O'Donnell, 'tis an enchanting evening, and I'm 
 just waiting for the moon to rise, and then I'll
 
 54 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 go for a little stroll along the river, so you 
 needn't hurry about dinner. And, if I'm not 
 back in time, you can just put it by for me, 
 Mrs. O'Donnell,' that's what his lordship would 
 say, reaching down for his hat, which he kept 
 on a peg near the window. Indeed, 'twas 
 but a morsel he'd eat at the best of times, 
 ma'am, scarce enough to keep the life in a 
 crow, and as often as not he'd take that little 
 out with him in his pocket, and eat it anywhere, 
 on the roadside just like a tramp, or in the 
 boat on the river, or oftenest of all in that 
 old place he was so fond of going to, the Seven 
 Churches they call it, you know, ma'am. 'Twas 
 a curious thing, and a thing I often remarked, 
 for all he was such a delicate gentleman he 
 seemed able to be more out of doors than any 
 one / ever saw, let alone a lord. Indeed, even 
 when he was in the house, it would be in and 
 out with him, often long after every one else 
 was in bed, so it would, extraordinary ! 
 
 " Well, ma'am, I'd just have to go back 
 to the kitchen, which was nearly opposite 
 as it might be across that passage there 
 and sit down, and try to keep myself quiet, 
 though it was uneasy enough I was in my mind, 
 as I well might be, God knows. 
 
 " Police protection ? Oh, no, ma'am, that
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 55 
 
 was a thing his lordship never would hear 
 of, not if it was ever so ; and, though he was 
 such an easy gentleman, he wasn't one you would 
 make have a thing if his mind was set against 
 it, so he was not. At the beginning of the 
 troubles the Government did send a sergeant 
 and two polis big, upstanding men they were, 
 any of them would have made six of me lord 
 and wrote to him, so I understood, that 
 they was to stop in the house, and to follow 
 him about wherever he went, as a sure word 
 had gone up to Dublin Castle that his name 
 was down in the black list, and that he was 
 to be shot. Me lord was too civil to send 
 them away at the first, and told me to see 
 that they had plenty to eat, and as much whisky 
 as they liked, only for God's sake to keep 
 them out of his sight. Indeed, a pair of 
 quieter young fellows than the two polis 
 couldn't be seen ; decent, easy-going boys ; give 
 them what food and drink they wanted, 'twas 
 all they asked. But the sergeant he was a 
 black, sour-looking Orangeman from the north, 
 and a different sort altogether. Stiff in his 
 ways he was, very stiff, as all them Orangemen 
 are. * Does your lordship propose attendin' 
 divine service to-morrow afternoon ? ' says he 
 tha first day they come which, as it happened,
 
 56 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 was a Saturday and he standing up stiff and 
 straight in the passage, which was so narrow 
 that there was scarce room for the shoulders of 
 him in it. Now me lord was not greatly 
 given to attendin' service, morning or after- 
 noon, and that's the truth, being fonder of 
 wandering about, and reading his own books, 
 and the likes of that. Anyway, he couldn't 
 stand being asked no such questions, no, nor 
 being followed about, nor stared at, not being 
 used to it, and howsoever he managed it, he 
 stopped the Government from sending any 
 more polis, and from that day on he just went 
 in and out in his own way, with the windows 
 always wide open, and he inside playing on the 
 piany, as much as to tell the people where 
 they'd find him, and giving no more heed to 
 himself than if he'd been safe in the middle of 
 Merrion Square ! 
 
 " Well, ma'am " here Mrs. O'Donnell 
 
 made a long pause, and heaved another deep 
 sigh. " Well, ma'am, it come at last ! One 
 day a Thursday it was I remember, for I'd 
 been speaking to the woman that used to 
 hawk fish round from Athlone a cheat she 
 was, born and bred, if ever there was one in 
 this world Anastasia Doolin was her name, 
 and her husband's was Mick McGeoghelan,
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 57 
 
 that had one of the boats on the river, a 
 thieving, ill-tongued pair, the two of them, 
 as any in Roscommon ! Well, ma'am, I had 
 been buying some mackerel from her for the 
 next day's dinner for ourselves, and a couple 
 over that would do, said I, for me lord ! 
 
 " ' Och ! Glory, glory ! Great Queen of 
 glory ! how mighty grand we are with our 
 lords ! ' says she, sneering like, though there 
 was black rage all the time, as I knew well, in 
 her heart, along of my having found out that 
 she'd sold me a white sole in the place of a 
 black one, only the last Friday was a fort- 
 night. 
 
 " * Take care of that fine lord of yours, Mrs. 
 O'Donnell, ma'am ! take care of him ! ' says 
 she, threatening me with her finger. ' Keep a 
 bit of a cord about his legs, and don't let him out 
 of your sight, that grand lord, for feard you 
 might lose him ! Make the most of him with 
 your pride and your grandeur, boasting it up 
 and down the country that you're serving a lord, 
 though it is the smallest and the meanest-look- 
 ing lord ever was seen, no bigger than a jack- 
 snipe, and that would have been put out of it 
 long before this if he'd only been a reasonable- 
 sized man, instead of a poor pitiogue that the 
 boys can hardly see, and might be shooting at
 
 58 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 him all day and night too without hitting him, 
 so they might, the darlin's.' 
 
 " * What's that, woman ? What wickedness 
 are you saying ? ' screams I. 
 
 " * Woman, indeed ! woman yourself ! ' says 
 she, with a toss of her head. l Take care, I 
 tell you, of that fine, lord of yours, for by the 
 piper that played before Moses 'twon't be 
 many days longer you'll be able to boast of how 
 you're serving a lord, so it won't ! ' And with 
 that off with her, and not another word, good 
 or bad, could I get from her. 
 
 " Well, ma'am, if I was oneasy before, you 
 may think 'twas twice as oneasy I was then, for 
 those hawking people do hear everything that's 
 said in the country, good or bad. So I asked 
 Phineas Ruddy to find out, if he could, what 
 was going on at all, at all. And he asked one, and 
 he asked another, and at last he found out that 
 there was great talk of how Phil Foggarty had 
 sworn at the * Heart of Irin,' that he'd do for me 
 lord within three months, on account of a farm 
 over at Castle Gaddery, that Mr. Clancy, the 
 agent, had taken from one of the Foggartys. 
 Now it wasn't Phil Foggarty 's farm at all, as 
 it happened, no, nor belonging to any of 
 his family, but to Luke Foggarty, that had 
 been paid off six months before, and gone to
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 59 
 
 America, and was only Phil's second cousin at 
 the best, even when he was in it. What busi- 
 ness had he to go taking up other people's busi- 
 ness and putting himself to the fore, I should 
 like to know, and he not even asked ? such 
 interferin' ways ! 
 
 "Well, ma'am, the time went on, and no 
 more about it, so I began to hope nothing would 
 happen, more particular as no one had had sight 
 or sound latterly of Phil Foggarty in the coun- 
 try. However, one evening towards the end of 
 September, I was dishing up the dinner, when I 
 heard the sound of a shot coming from the little 
 wood just beyond me lord's study. Well, when 
 I heard that, the dish I had in my hands 
 leaped clean out of them, with the terror I 
 was in, and broke to bits on the floor, and I 
 screeched to Phineas Ruddy to run and see 
 what had happened. But he pretended not to 
 hear, though he heard me right well, the old 
 bogart. With that I gathered myself up, and I 
 run to the study, but before I could get there, 
 Bang ! Bang ! went that gun again, and when I 
 got to the room there was a cloud of smoke in 
 it, enough to blind you, and a queer smell too, 
 like pepper, that set me sneezing. Well, when 
 I had got the water a bit out of my eyes, 
 I looked round for me lord. And if you'll
 
 60 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 believe me, ma'am, he was sitting in his chair 
 for all the world as if nothing had happened, 
 only the book he had been reading at the time 
 fallen over on the floor, as it might be there at 
 your feet, and the window open as usual down 
 to the ground, and the smoke hanging about 
 him, so that I could scarce see him at first in 
 the middle of it. 
 
 " * My God, me lord ! * screams I. * My 
 God, me lord, what is it ? ' says-> I. * Don't 
 tell me you're hit,' says I. 
 
 " Really, Mrs. O'Donnell,' says he, < really, 
 my good Mrs. O'Donnell, I'm not very sure 
 about it yet myself,' says he. And with that 
 he puts up his hand to his shoulder, and * I 
 believe, now you mention it, I am,' says he. 
 
 " Well, at that I ran to him, ma'am, as you 
 may believe, and looked at his shoulder, and, 
 sure enough, there was blood staining the back 
 of his coat, for he was sitting with his back to 
 the window at the time. It didn't seem much 
 of a wound, though, for all that amount of 
 shooting and smoke and noise. It wasn't low 
 down either, only right up at the top of his 
 shoulder. For all that, the moment I caught 
 sight of the blood I let a screech, and began 
 crying thieves and fire and murder, and with 
 that Phineas Ruddy ran into the room with a
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 61 
 
 big old gun, he had got hidden somewhere, 
 loose in his hands, and his face as white as that 
 sheet of paper before you, ma'am, and he all 
 shake-shaking, so that it was plain to see he 
 couldn't hold it straight, much less shoot with 
 it, the creature. 
 
 " ' Give me that gun,' says his lordship, speak- 
 ing a bit sharp, but keeping quite still, only 
 his eyes opening wider than ever I seen 
 them open be/ore, and he looking at a spot in 
 a big clump of fuchey bushes there was out- 
 side, where we could see something moving, 
 now that the *smoke was beginning to clear 
 away. 
 
 " With that he upped with the gun to his 
 shoulder, though I could see by the twitch of 
 his face it hurt him bad to lift it, and let blaze 
 into the middle of that fuchey bush. Well, 
 ma'am, at that there comes a great roaring and 
 screeching out of the clump, so that I made sure 
 in my own mind it was one of them polis, the 
 creatures, that had come up hearing the shot, or 
 a pig, maybe, rootin' there, for I didn't think it 
 could be any one else. But, no ! if you'll believe 
 me, it was Phil Foggarty himself and no other, 
 though what made him stop after he'd done his 
 job nobody ever could guess. Anyhow, there 
 he was, and tumbled out on to the gravel, he
 
 62 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 did, bleeding, and roaring, and crying he was 
 murdered, and his own gun smoking hot all the 
 time in his hands ! I suppose he thought he 
 might as well stop and see the end of it, because 
 of there being only us three women in the house, 
 and Phineas Ruddy that was little better, and 
 no one in the world believing that me lord, who 
 was always so easy-going, would shoot back, let 
 it be ever so. However, shoot back he did, 
 ma'am, for I saw it with my own eyes, just as 
 I'm telling you, and when the polis came up, 
 which they did in about an hour's time, they'd 
 nothing to do but to take Phil Foggarty off 
 with them on a car to Athlone, and into the jail 
 with him there as easy as easy. 
 
 " Was me lord badly hurt ? Well, not so 
 very badly, ma'am, still he had to go to bed, 
 and Phineas Ruddy was sent off post-haste 
 to Ballynahoola for the doctor, though it was 
 three in the morning by the same token before 
 he could bring him back, on account of two 
 other men having been hit that same night not 
 far from Lucknadarrah, and he sent for to cut 
 the bullets out of them. There was no bullet 
 to be cut out of me lord, praise be to God, only 
 a bit of a flesh wound at the top of his shoulder, 
 and another in the calf of his leg that we hadn't 
 found out at first, and a shock, so the doctor said,
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 63 
 
 to the whole inside of him. But, if he'd keep 
 quiet, and eat all he could, he'd be as well as 
 ever in a week, so the doctor told him, or a 
 month at the very most. 
 
 " Howsomever, it was coming on cold weather 
 then, the beginning of October, and me lord had 
 to lie on the sofey the whole day, 'stead of 
 trapesing over the country the way he was used. 
 It was an early winter, too, that year, and wet, 
 very wet. You could hear the rain pattering 
 from every part of the house, so that it got 
 quite distressful, and I suppose he was moped 
 listening to it. He used to lie there with 
 his books about him, and now and then he'd 
 read a little bit out of one of them, and a 
 little bit out of another, but most times he'd 
 be just looking out at the window, and hum- 
 ming a bit of a tune to himself; a dreary 
 tune it was to listen to, and one that give 
 me the melancholies to hear, for I would be 
 in and out of that study room of his all day 
 long, you'll understand, ma'am, bringing him 
 his beef-tea, or a drop of mulled wine, or any- 
 thing else I thought he'd take. 'Twas little 
 enough, God knows. He was always a poor 
 eater, but from that time forward he eat less 
 and less every day, less and less, so he did, Jess 
 and less ! " Here Mrs. O'Donnell's apron
 
 64 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 went up to her eyes, and she began to sob gently. 
 " A poor eater always, the poorest ever / knew 
 for a gentleman ; but after that time 'twould 
 have broken any one's heart to be cooking for 
 him, and see the food coming back day after day 
 scarce touched, only a bit of vegetable, maybe, 
 or a drop of gravy, nothing else, though he'd 
 stir about the things on his plate, so he would, 
 making believe he was eating a power he was 
 always thoughtful, was his poor lordship. At 
 last, ma'am, seeing him so moped, what with 
 eating so little, and having no company, I made 
 bold to write myself to London to Mr. John 
 George, though I was never a fine writer, as 
 you know, nor much of a scholard at the best of 
 times. Still I made shift to tell him that some 
 one ought, I thought, to come over and see to 
 me lord, who was looking badly. 'Deed, 'twas a 
 pitiful sight to see him getting smaller and 
 smaller every day he lived, and the eyes of him 
 bigger and bigger, so that it was no solider than 
 a half-grown torn-tit he'd look, lying on that 
 sofey of his, smothered in big books, and not 
 able to read them either, for I'd see him lift 
 first one and lay it down, and then another, 
 dropping them back with a sort of a sigh. Not 
 that they would have done him any good if he 
 had been able to read them, in course, for what
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 65 
 
 good could books do any gentleman, least of 
 all a sick one ? 
 
 " Did Mr. John George come, ma'am ? 
 'Deed he did, and beautiful he looked with 
 that great beard of his, beautiful. But if 
 you'll believe me, often and often afterwards, 
 though it seems a strange thing to say, I was 
 a'most sorry in my own mind I'd ever written 
 to him, so I was. You see, ma'am, Mr. John 
 George he was a regular Carrowmore a grand- 
 looking gentleman, always busy and important 
 like a wonderful determined man, as everybody 
 said, and the best head for business out and out 
 anywhere. As for health, I don't suppose he'd 
 ever had an ache nor a pain in his life, unless 
 it was, maybe, the toothache, or a bit of the 
 indigestion when he'd eaten his dinner too fast. 
 Now me lord he was always ailing and delicate, 
 always, from the time he was a boy. It didn't 
 need Phil Foggarty to be shooting him, the 
 blackguard, to make him delicate, though I 
 don't suppose that did him any good either ; 
 inside or out. 
 
 " Dear me, ma'am, to see those two gentle- 
 men together it was a curiosity, a regular 
 curiosity, remembering that they was brothers. 
 Mr. John George I mean his present lordship, 
 I do be always callin' him wrong would stand
 
 66 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 over against the fireplace, looking so grand and 
 tall, and his beard all fluffed out splendid, tell- 
 ing me lord that he ought to do this, and that 
 he'd be quite well if he'd only do that. And me 
 lord he would just lie on the sofey, and look up 
 at him with those big eyes of his shining in his 
 wizendy little face ; and now and then he'd nod 
 his head, and say, ' Very likely, John,' or, 
 1 Quite true, John,' only with a look all the 
 time in the corner of his eye, so that I could 
 see in his heart he wished his brother anywhere 
 on God's earth if he would only just go away 
 and leave him to himself. However, 'twas him- 
 self that had to go away in the end, for Mr. 
 John George said he couldn't stop longer in it, 
 and wouldn't go, not a step of him, till his 
 lordship agreed to go too ; which he did at 
 the last, though ill he liked it, as any one 
 could see. Indeed it was plain to me that he 
 intended to give Mr. John George the slip, 
 and come quietly back unbeknownst, for 
 one of the last words he said to me was, 
 ' Don't forget that receipt of yours for the 
 stuffed tomatees, Mrs. O'Donnell,' says he. He 
 was always mighty partial to stuffed tomatees, 
 was his poor lordship, although such a poor 
 eater." 
 
 Mrs. O'Donnell's apron travelled slowly up
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 67 
 
 to her eyes, and again she sobbed softly to 
 herself. 
 
 " Howsomdever, ma'am, he never did come 
 back, neither for the stuffed tomatees, nor for 
 nothing else, for they took him abroad to some 
 foreign town I misre member the name of it 
 now, but I think it was in the south of 
 Italy. 
 
 " Naples ? Oh, no, ma'am, a longer name 
 than that four syllables there was to it to the 
 best of my recollection and about five months 
 afterwards we heard that he'd got much worse, 
 very bad indeed, and not likely to live. Whether 
 it was the shooting, and the wound not healing 
 rightly ; or whether it was just the botheration 
 of the whole thing, and being put out of his 
 own easy ways ; or whether it was the queer 
 foreign food he would be getting in those 
 onnatural places, or whatever it was, God 
 knows. Anyway, he seems never to have 
 done a bit of good, and every time we heard 
 of him 'twas worse he was than the time 
 before, and the next time would be worse still, 
 till at last there come the very worst news of 
 all. Yes indeed, he was dead, was his poor 
 lordship, and buried, too, for they buried him 
 out there in that foreign place he died in 
 Curious how I misremember its name, often
 
 68 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 as I have heard it ! But I had always a poor 
 memory for names, 'cept it was the names of 
 made dishes. 
 
 " Why didn't they bring him back to be 
 buried at home, ma'am ? 'Deed, you may well 
 ask that) and greatly talked of it was in the 
 country, greatly talked of, and greatly won- 
 dered at ! Mr. John George I mean his 
 present lordship gave out that it was along 
 of the state of the neighbourhood, and that 
 he didn't want his brother's corpse to be in- 
 sulted, and it going to its burying. Maybe 
 that was his reason, but for my part I never 
 believed such a thing, so I did not. They 
 was hard enough, and bad enough, and on- 
 dacent enough, God knows, those times ; still 
 there was a pbwer of people up and down 
 the country that liked the poor lord right well, 
 and would have gone a long way to see him 
 laid in the ground decent, not to speak of 
 hooting him, or the likes of that. Poor he 
 might be, and small, not much to look at, 
 and queer in his ways, not like a Carrowmore 
 in the least, still he was a real gentleman when 
 all was said, and a kind master, and so I'll 
 maintain to my dying day. A good heart he 
 had, too, the best heart in the world, though 
 he was such a poor eater. Is it a duck or a
 
 MRS. O'DONNELL'S REPORT 69 
 
 chicken I'll be ordering for you to-day, ma'am ? 
 There was a lot of fine young pullets running 
 round at Alicia O'Slatterly's last Sunday was a 
 week. They ought to be coming on now, I 
 think ; nice tender eating."
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 
 
 WE had been sauntering for more than an 
 hour upon the terrace, with the tide the 
 while flowing in, and rapidly rilling up all the 
 sinuosities of the little channel, each small 
 wave as it entered, spreading itself out, like 
 the train of a comet, getting thinner and 
 thinner, until recruited by a fresh rush of 
 salt water, which swept round the corner of 
 the nearest headland, on and on ; up, up, up, 
 over the rocks, and sand, and slush, until, its 
 impetus exhausted, it died away in gasps and 
 murmurs amongst the grasses and sedums at 
 our feet. 
 
 We had been talking about really I hardly 
 now remember what our own affairs, I think, 
 and especially other people's ; about the dread- 
 ful condition of the country a most fertile 
 parent of illimitable platitudes ! about the 
 
 70
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 71 
 
 proper management of children ; about the 
 right treatment and bringing up of Tigrinias 
 and Begonias. Across these improving topics 
 the twilight seemed somehow to keep stealing, 
 and to rob our remarks of half their natural 
 flatness. We lowered our voices now and 
 then, in the instinctive way people do when 
 something remote from themselves, something 
 a trifle larger, and a trifle less futile, seems 
 to lift a finger reprovingly for a minute in 
 the face of their respectable tittle-tattle. 
 
 Queenstown Bay, upon which we were then 
 gazing, is an excellent looking-glass upon which 
 to read the history of whatever movements 
 may chance at the moment to be going on in 
 the country overhead. Just then that country 
 seemed to have turned itself into the likeness 
 of a prodigious flower-garden, abloom with in- 
 describable tints ; abloom too with cloud- 
 flowers, unnamed by mortals, but no doubt 
 duly labelled and catalogued by their own 
 celestial gardeners. 
 
 My hostess's flower-garden, which lay a little 
 to the right of us, seemed almost worthy to be 
 the counterpart of this divine parterre, for it 
 was just then one blaze of autumn colouring, 
 a peculiar tawny orange predominating. 
 
 Every one, it is to be hoped, has heard of
 
 72 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 the effects of South Cork climate upon horti- 
 culture, and this garden was a celebrated one 
 even in South Cork. Wonderful things grew, 
 and still grow in it. Eucalyptus and aloes ; 
 cassias and yuccas ; bignonias, making a glory 
 of lichen-covered walls ; a jungle of bamboos 
 along the edge of a pool ; palms or, at any 
 rate, palmettos ; nay, in one sheltered nook, a 
 tree-fern, which had survived two winters, 
 although its fronds, I am bound to add, were 
 beginning when I last saw them to look a 
 little sorry for themselves. Up to the edge 
 of all this sub-tropical luxuriance the salt 
 waters of the bay came curling and crinkling 
 in, salting the grass, and leaving behind them 
 long streamers of oily-looking seaweeds, which 
 clung to the bank, and peered up in all direc- 
 tions upon the lawn. I used to wonder what 
 they and those fine acclimatized creatures in 
 the flower-beds thought of one another. 
 
 It was autumn an Irish autumn at its best. 
 The sun shone all day with a mild and sleepy 
 benevolence upon the reluctant falling of the 
 leaves ; upon the grass, touched already at the 
 summit with a trail of brown, but still fresh 
 and green below. Unlike the greater part 
 of Ireland, where the woods have been pared 
 to the very stump, the shores of Queens-
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 73 
 
 town Bay are fairly off for verdure. Im- 
 mediately opposite to where we were walking, 
 a house with ugly, ornamental chimneys showed 
 upon a piece of rising ground ; the " Great 
 House " par excellence of the neighbourhood. 
 Although as ugly as a house well could be, 
 it was an imposing-looking structure in its 
 way, backed as it was by a great sweep of 
 woodland, and possessing two widely-spreading 
 wings, linked to the main body by colonnades 
 after a pseudo-classical fashion. In front of it 
 extended a terrace, with vases ranged at intervals. 
 Then the path suddenly narrowed, and dipped 
 into a hollow amongst the trees, where it re- 
 mained for some time invisible, re-emerging in 
 the form of another terrace, which stretched for 
 some distance along the shore, from which it 
 was only divided by a balustrade, adorned at 
 intervals with vases. I could hardly explain 
 why, but the whole place seemed to me to 
 have somehow taken on an air of decadence, 
 almost of out-of-elbowness, since I saw it last. 
 The woods looked rank ; the vases, which 
 at this season used to glow with geraniums, 
 were empty ; the windows of the house were 
 shut, and only a barely-discernible thread of 
 smoke rose languidly out of one of the great 
 chimneys.
 
 74 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 " Is Lord Kilconnell at home ? " I presently 
 inquired of my hostess. 
 
 " Yes, he is there," she answered, nodding 
 her head in the direction of the channel. " He 
 has been there the whole summer, but no one 
 ever sees him. Poor man, it really is pitiful ! " 
 she went on after a moment. " He looks the 
 mere ghost of what he was when you saw him 
 last. He has never held up his head since 
 Dermot Murrough died, and that is nearly 
 four years ago. He just potters about the 
 house and grounds, and has his dogs to keep 
 him company ; and goes round and looks at the 
 eagles, and seals, and wombats, and the rest of 
 the queer menagerie which poor Dermot brought 
 together. That seems to be the only thing 
 that gives him the slightest pleasure, which 
 is all the more odd because he is not by 
 way, you know, of having even yet forgiven 
 Dermot." 
 
 "Let me see, what was it his son did?" 
 I asked. " It was something rather bad, I 
 remember, but the details seem to have escaped 
 me." 
 
 " Oh, it's such a dreadfully melancholy sub- 
 ject. Pray don't let us talk about it," my 
 hostess replied hastily. 
 
 Naturally I walked on again discreetly.
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 75 
 
 The tide was still steadily rising ; the little 
 ripples babbled and babbled ; fussed discursively 
 around all the stones ; ran vehemently in shore, 
 as if bent on conquering every green islet and 
 headland within reach ; finally dropped back, 
 and contented themselves with a headlong 
 scamper hither and thither amongst the sand 
 and slush. 
 
 " Poor Dermot ! JVhat a pleasant creature 
 he was ! we shall never have so nice a neigh- 
 bour again," my companion presently went 
 on, as the most casual acquaintance with 
 human nature must have convinced any one 
 that she shortly would go on. " Such a con- 
 trast to that brother of his ! It has always 
 been a mystery to me how that tiresome 
 priggish creature Saggart ever came to be his 
 brother. Don't you think those Saggarts 
 are the two greatest bores you ever met ? 
 And do you know, isn't it absurd ? he 
 I mean Saggart because his mother was 
 an Englishwoman, always talks as though 
 he were an Englishman himself. I am 
 sure he safely might ; no one would sus- 
 pect him of being anything livelier. At 
 the same time think of the absurdity of 
 a man whose name, though he happens to 
 be called Lord Saggart, is really Patrick
 
 76 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Murrough, declining to consider himself an 
 Irishman ! " 
 
 " Yes, but you've not told me about Dermot 
 Murrough," I persisted, for I have no wish to 
 be thought freer from the decent vice of curi- 
 osity than my neighbours, and I felt that I was 
 being trifled with. " Let me see, he ran away 
 with an actress, or something of that sort, 
 and then married her ? " I added, by way of 
 helping matters on. 
 
 " An actress ! Oh dear, no, it was nothing 
 of that kind. It was much worse than that. 
 It was with a girl here ; with a girl belonging 
 to their own property ; that was the really 
 terrible thing about it." 
 
 My companion stopped for a moment to 
 disentangle a bramble which had caught in 
 her skirt, after which she smoothed down the 
 ruffled hem, glanced once more across the 
 channel, and walked on beside me. 
 
 " Of course, he ought to have had a pro- 
 fession" she added, in that tone of rather 
 comfortable retrospect with which people are 
 in the habit of analyzing the causes of other 
 people's failures. " Every young man ought 
 to have a profession, especially every younger 
 son. Somehow, though, with Dermot Mur- 
 rough it didn't seem to matter so much as
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 77 
 
 with most younger sons. He was always so 
 lively. He was never bored or dull ; it didn't 
 seem as if he could be bored if he had tried 
 to be. Everybody about here liked him so 
 much too ; even the tenants were fond of him. 
 Yes, indeed, they really were ! People always 
 laugh now-a-days if you say that the tenants 
 are fond of any of us. I don't say they are 
 often, but they were fond of Dermot Mur- 
 rough. His not being the eldest son, and 
 having nothing therefore to say to the pro- 
 perty, made everything easier, you know. He 
 and his father used to be here nearly the 
 whole year round at that time, and when Der- 
 mot was at home there was always something 
 amusing going on. He was for ever getting 
 up regattas for the fishermen, treats for the 
 labourers, teas for the women, bran pies for 
 the children ; I don't know what all. He 
 used to offer prizes for the best pig, the best 
 rick of turf, the best jig-dancer, the best any- 
 thing. He once offered a prize for the man 
 who would get first to the top of a hayrick 
 with his hands tied behind his back ! His 
 father laughed, but -let him do as he liked. 
 You remember that summer when you were 
 here last ? Well, it was always just like that. 
 They were both of them devoted to yachting,
 
 78 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 and used to make excursions together to all 
 sorts of places, and bring the yacht back full of 
 queer beasts and birds. Everything, in short, 
 went well, until in an evil hour he fell in love 
 with this girl, Mary Delaney." 
 
 " She was simply a peasant, you say ? " 
 " Yes, the sister of a right-hand man of 
 Dermot's, Phelim Delaney you may remember 
 him. He used to look after Dermot's hawks 
 and eagles, and it was he who dug out that 
 cavern at the bottom of the garden. He is 
 there still, though I fancy it must be rather 
 terrible for Lord Kilconnell to have to see him. 
 This girl Mary was very handsome, and Dermot 
 saw a great deal of her one summer, and got 
 into the habit of walking about with her, and 
 going out to meet her of an evening. He was 
 dreadfully silly, poor dear, about women ; always 
 falling in love with some one in a head-over- 
 heels sort of way. It had gone on for some 
 time when her brother discovered it. You 
 know how anything of that sort is regarded in 
 Ireland ? The girl's character, at any rate, was 
 gone. Poor Dermot was at his wit's end, what 
 with shame, and remorse, and his own affection 
 for her, and the reproaches which he knew 
 would be heaped upon him from all sides, and 
 the end of it was that he took her off to
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 79 
 
 Cork one morning, and married her before a 
 registrar." 
 
 "And his father found it out ? " 
 
 "Why, of course. Such a thing couldn't but 
 be found out sooner or later. At first he was 
 simply indignant. But when Dermot'told him 
 that he was married to her to a girl, remember, 
 who had run about the place barefoot, weeded 
 the walks, and picked the gooseberries married 
 to a Murrough, to one of the proudest people in 
 all Ireland, and the vainest of their blood there 
 was a frightful scene. Both men had tremendous 
 tempers once they were roused, though no one 
 would have guessed it from seeing them on 
 ordinary occasions. It ended by Lord Kilcon- 
 nell ordering his son out of the house, and by 
 Dermot retorting that he would never set foot 
 in it again if his father went down on his knees 
 to him to do so. He left that night with 
 his wife, and took her abroad, though where 
 they lived, or how they lived, no one knew, for 
 he hadn't a farthing of his own. Lord Kilcon- 
 nell's anger prevented him from writing for a 
 long time, but at last the silence frightened him, 
 and no doubt he was longing all the time to be 
 friends again with Dermot, for he tried to dis- 
 cover the young couple's whereabouts. Whether 
 he did so or not I don't know, but one morn-
 
 8o TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 ing, about three years ago, he received a letter 
 telling him that Dermot was dead, he had 
 died after a few days' illness of typhoid 
 fever in some small town in France Caen, I 
 think." 
 
 " Poor man ! Poor man ! " I ejaculated, 
 looking across at the woods in all their autumn 
 glory, and at a little sailing boat which was 
 just rounding the next green point. " How 
 did he take it ? " I added. 
 
 " He was found by one of the servants half- 
 an-hour afterwards, lying with his head upon 
 the hearth-rug below that big portrait of poor 
 Dermot, which, in spite of his disgrace, always 
 hung over the fireplace. He nearly died, and 
 when he came to himself, and began to get 
 about again, he was feeble and almost childish 
 seemed to have grown twenty years older in 
 that one miserable fortnight. He is better now, 
 but his memory is often astray, and he doesn't 
 seem able to rouse himself to take an interest in 
 anything." 
 
 " And the widow ? " 
 
 " Money was sent to her, and she was told, 
 I believe, that a certain yearly sum would be 
 hers, but that she was to keep away from the 
 place, or it would be immediately stopped. 
 There was no boy, happily, but I am told that
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 81 
 
 there was a little girl, though to the best of my 
 belief Lord Kilconnell knows nothing about 
 her. He stayed away for a year, but since then 
 he has come down from time to time, generally 
 without being expected, and this year he has 
 spent nearly the whole summer here. He is one 
 of the very few landlords in this part of the 
 county who has never had any difficulties with 
 his people. They pity him and in Ireland, as 
 you know, that goes a long way. * The poor 
 ould lard ! God comfort him, the misfortunate 
 crater ! ' a woman said to me not long since, 
 and that seems to be the general sentiment. 
 Now that Dermot is dead, all their old liking 
 for him too has revived, and they feel kindly 
 towards his father for his sake. Lord Kilconnell 
 comes to see us now and then, and we try to get 
 him to stay dinner, but he has grown very shy, 
 though he used to be so sociable. Now that 
 you are here I will ask him again. He will 
 be glad, perhaps, to see you, and you can talk 
 about old times." 
 
 " Do," said I, " I should like very much to 
 see him again." 
 
 A few days later, Lord Kilconnell came across 
 the Sound, in the course of the afternoon, and 
 was induced, with some little difficulty, to stay 
 for dinner. He was indeed greatly changed
 
 82 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 since I had seen him last. Then, though no 
 longer young, he had been a striking-looking 
 man ; noticeable amongst the youngest for his 
 good looks, amongst the brightest for the quick 
 flash and flow of his wit. Now he was bent, 
 old, enfeebled, one might say extinguished. 
 His faculties did not seem to be any of them 
 actually gone, but the first blur of age had 
 passed over them. You might have compared 
 him to a singer who had lost her high notes. 
 His memory had not exactly failed, but the 
 power of perspective was no longer there. The 
 quickness of his perceptions had gone, and his 
 mind moved slowly, and chiefly in old and 
 long-familiar ruts. 
 
 My friends were excessively hospitable, and 
 it was rarely that we sat down to dinner with- 
 out two or three unexpected guests appearing. 
 Most of these self-elected guests were yacht- 
 owners, or members of the Yacht Club at 
 Queenstown, so that a great deal of yachting 
 talk went on, much of which was so excessively 
 technical as to be over my head, and practically 
 unintelligible. On this occasion there happened 
 to be only one other guest besides Lord Kil- 
 connell, a rather deaf old gentleman known as 
 Commander Coote ; an unmitigated bore, but a 
 local institution, and as such tolerated, if not
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 83 
 
 relished. Commander Coote's one thought day 
 and night was of yachts and yachting, indeed I 
 never heard him open his lips upon any other 
 subject. Lord Kilconnell, having been a noted 
 yacht- owner in his day, he on this occasion 
 directed his conversation chiefly to him ; pertin- 
 aciously recalling former seafaring experiences, 
 which he fished up from the oozy depths of his 
 memory, despite the evident disrelish of the 
 other man for the subject. 
 
 " Dodger, now ! " he began again, when we 
 had hoped that the topic was momentarily 
 shelved. "You remember, Dodger, my Lord, 
 he who owned the Shrimp? When you knew 
 him she was a yawl, wasn't she ? well, before 
 that he had a cutter, and after that a schooner ; 
 but they were all Shrimps. Poor old Dodger, 
 and he has gone to the shrimps himself 
 now ! " he added cheerfully. " Died somewhere 
 near the Azores, and was buried at sea. Always 
 said he meant to be buried at sea, and so he 
 was. Queer chap, Dodger ! " 
 
 There was a pause, but our old Man of the 
 Sea had not done with his reminiscences. " Sir 
 Wheeler Jones. You knew Sir Wheeler when 
 he was Commodore of the Yacht Squadron, 
 didn't you, my Lord?" he presently began again. 
 " He was another queer one ; by the Lord, yes !
 
 84 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Do you remember the time he applied to the 
 Admiralty for leave to flog his men ? Oh, you 
 may exclaim, ladies, but it is quite true. Ask 
 his Lordship if it isn't. Of course they wouldn't 
 hear of anything of the kind, and only laughed 
 at him. But what do you think he did ? 
 Hired a fresh crew, and gave them fivepence- 
 ha'penny a day extra on the understanding that 
 he was to be allowed to flog them if he chose ! 
 And they agreed to it, too, fast enough, only 
 one ill-conditioned cur of a fellow, whom he 
 had given a dozen to for something, had him 
 up before a Plymouth jury, and got damages 
 to the tune of five hundred pounds. Rum 
 old codger, Jones ! He's dead, too. Got rheu- 
 matic fever that time the Cormorant went down 
 outside Falmouth Harbour, and never stood 
 straight again. I remember his coming on 
 board the Cuttlefish at Cowes with two sticks 
 under his arms, and his face twisted all awry ! 
 Dalby is another that's gone, he dropped at 
 Constantinople of the dropsy. Gad, I believe 
 you and I are about the last of the old lot, my 
 Lord, and I suppose we shall be slipping our 
 anchor pretty soon, too, eh ? Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Lord Kilconnell bowed sadly, and replied 
 that it was probable. His manner was very 
 dreamy, though as full of old-world courtesy
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 85 
 
 and dignity as ever. After dinner he came and 
 sat beside me, a little apart from the rest of the 
 circle. We talked about old times, for though 
 I had never known him very well, we had met 
 from time to time, and I knew a good many of 
 his relations. Now and then a momentary 
 lapse of consciousness seemed to come over him 
 a sort of film over the mind his eyes would 
 grow misty, and an oddly fixed expression would 
 come into his face. Then the attack, whatever 
 it was, would pass off, and he would resume 
 his courtly deferential talk as if nothing had 
 happened. 
 
 I think he enjoyed his evening, in spite of 
 old Coote's reminiscences, for after that he came 
 pretty often. It was lovely weather, and he 
 would land of an afternoon from his boat, and 
 walk up the gravel path which led from the 
 little pier, two of his dogs generally following 
 at his heels. Here he would find us sitting 
 about upon the lawn ; the younger people 
 playing tennis ; we of an older and staider 
 generation chatting, or sipping our tea to an 
 accompaniment of lapping waves ; the reflections 
 from the little fiord performing fantastic dances 
 upon the grass and tree-trunks. Now and then 
 a fishing or pleasure boat would appear, looking 
 like some oddly-shaped white blossom amongst
 
 86 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 the leaves of the trees ; the soft, poetic sunlight 
 of the South of Ireland streaming the while in 
 uneven bands over the sward, and bringing out 
 fresh eccentricities of tint amongst the orange 
 and liver-coloured begonias which were at that 
 time my hostess's especial pride and joy. 
 
 We took as little notice of his arrival 
 as we could, that being evidently what suited 
 him best. He would settle himself into one 
 of the basket-chairs, and either talk, or sit 
 silently stroking the silken head of Sheelah, 
 his favourite red setter, who never seemed 
 easy unless she was cuddling her nose into 
 her master's hand. Sometimes he would grow 
 quite brilliant for a few minutes ; all his 
 old animation reviving. It was rarely, how- 
 ever, that the flash lasted more than a few 
 minutes. The impulse would die out, as 
 if extinguished, and he would drop into 
 silence, and sit there, dreamily twisting Shee- 
 lah's silky ears through his fingers. His love 
 of pet animals included children, and there 
 was one little girl of the house who shared 
 with Sheelah the right of standing beside his 
 knee, and having her head stroked. One day 
 he arrived with a small black bundle stowed 
 away under his elbow, and inquired for her. 
 " Where's Dodo ? where's my little Dodo ? "
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 87 
 
 Dodo was not long in appearing, and received 
 a small black retriever puppy, with the wettest 
 of noses, and tightest of curled fleeces, exactly 
 like a toy lamb's. It was a piece of unusual 
 munificence, I was told ; the one point upon 
 which Lord Kilconnell had always been ac- 
 counted churlish by his neighbours being his 
 dogs. He had the best breed of setters and 
 retrievers in the whole South of Ireland, and 
 had hardly ever been known to give one of 
 them away. 
 
 I stayed on that autumn in Queenstown Bay 
 longer than I had originally intended ; another 
 visit which I had proposed paying having had 
 to be given up. I was not in the least loath. 
 The place was delightful ; the people kindness 
 itself. We made daily expeditions in my host's 
 steam launch. We assisted at the departure 
 of sundry " White Stars " and " Cunarders " on 
 their Atlantic voyages. We dawdled about the 
 garden, and discussed horticulture, upon which 
 subject my entertainers were both of them 
 finished experts. I fell into the habit, too, of 
 going over nearly daily to Castle Murrough. 
 Not that it is a castle, by the way, any 
 more than this implement I am writing with 
 is a stiletto, but that in Ireland is a well- 
 understood figure of speech.
 
 88 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Lord Kilconnell was always alone, and always 
 received me kindly, as though rather pleased 
 at the encroachment upon his solitude. There 
 was something to me very touching in his rela- 
 tions with his immediate retainers, most of 
 whom had been born, and were growing grey, 
 in his service. He was often extremely frac- 
 tious ; swearing at them upon small occasions 
 with old-fashioned vigour, forgetful apparently 
 for the moment of my presence. Upon these 
 occasions the culprit would stand, hat in hand, 
 listening to the storm of words with an air 
 of deprecation. Almost always, however, there 
 was a look of forbearance lurking somewhere 
 in the corner of his eye, which seemed to 
 neutralize, and, as it were, reverse the relative 
 positions. Of this look Lord Kilconnell him- 
 self would sometimes seem conscious, for with a 
 final " pish ! " he would break off, and hurry 
 away at a rate which obliged me to scuttle 
 along in somewhat undignified fashion in order 
 to catch him up. 
 
 After three weeks of this ideal weather, a 
 change occurred. For some hours an ominous 
 calm " raged," as an eloquent Cork newspaper 
 once expressed it. Then the wind got up ; 
 the rain fell ; and a storm descended. Never 
 had I seen so vindictive a storm ! The flowers
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 89 
 
 in the garden were broken off and scattered 
 like chaff over the walks ; the trees rocked ; 
 branches were broken from them with a sudden 
 snap ; everything seemed to be seized, throttled, 
 destroyed ; the whole grace and beauty of 
 the season wrested from it at one fell swoop. 
 In all directions the leaves were being flung 
 about like flights of frightened birds ; the 
 birds themselves tossed like things devoid of 
 volition about the sky. There was something 
 cruel in this convulsive struggle of all Nature 
 against the invisible onslaught. The friendly 
 trees ; the brightly-tinted creepers ; the orderly 
 walks and pretty flower-borders, all wore that 
 peculiar look of pathos which clings to mild 
 and orderly natures when brought into contact 
 with a power before which they are helpless 
 to do anything but to suffer. We gathered 
 at the windows, and could do nothing but 
 look on at this scene of ruin, unable to inter- 
 pose a finger. 
 
 Next morning, when the storm had some- 
 what abated, I took an umbrella and mackin- 
 tosh, and crossed over the little channel to 
 Castle Murrough, where I found Lord Kilcon- 
 nell, alone upon the terrace, with Sheelah at 
 his heels. He proposed that we should go 
 for a turn, and I readily agreed. Here
 
 90 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 too everything looked battered. The clouds 
 hung grey and swollen over the headlands. 
 The woods dripped at every pore. I should 
 have preferred a drier walk, but Lord Kil- 
 connell turned off the terrace along a path 
 that took us through a low-lying part of 
 the woods towards the shore. It was a dank 
 one at any time, and felt doubly so that 
 day. A heavy scent of decaying vegetation 
 met us as we advanced. One or two forlorn 
 little summer-houses rose rather absurdly here 
 and there, and at one point stood an aviary, 
 in which a sulky-looking eagle was hopping 
 disconsolately, who fluttered, and shrieked a 
 discordant shriek of anger at the sight of 
 Sheelah. 
 
 We crossed one or two level bridges of logs, 
 below which a thick current of water, swollen 
 with the rain, was slipping into a little lake, 
 and presently came to a point where the path 
 branched ; one part leading to the sea-shore, 
 the other to a small enclosed flower-garden, 
 lying under a rocky bank. 
 
 A little girl was standing close to the gate 
 of this garden with a bunch of flowers in her 
 hands ; not garden flowers, but common loose- 
 strifes and such-like, which she must have 
 gathered along the edge of the stream. She
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 91 
 
 was a pretty little creature, with light hair, and 
 beautiful dark-blue eyes, and was dressed poorly, 
 yet not quite like a peasant's child, in a short 
 black frock, with a band round her waist, well- 
 fitting stockings and shoes, and a straw-hat with 
 a shabby black ribbon. Lord Kilconnell, with 
 his usual liking for children, stopped to lay a 
 couple of fingers upon her head, and ask her her 
 name, to which she made a blushing and inartic- 
 ulate reply, and we passed on into the garden. 
 Sheelah remained a moment after us to sniff 
 solemnly round the child ; which done, as if 
 satisfied with the result, she also trotted leisurely 
 after her master. 
 
 The garden, which was larger than it 
 appeared to be from the outside, ended in an 
 oval curve, overhung with a high cliff or bank 
 of rocks and earth. A sound of digging reached 
 our ears, coming apparently from somewhere 
 underground, and on looking closely I per- 
 ceived the mouth of a passage or cave, which 
 seemed to run underground for some distance, 
 and from which the sound proceeded. 
 
 Lord Kilconnell started, and half turned as 
 if to leave the place. At the same moment 
 the sound ceased, and a man appeared at the 
 entrance of the cave ; a big stalwart fellow, 
 broad-shouldered and grey-eyed. Perceiving
 
 92 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 his master, he also started, and lifted his cap 
 with an air of embarrassment. Whereupon 
 Lord Kilconnell apparently relinquished the 
 idea of retreating, and returned the man's bow 
 with a friendly nod. 
 
 " Good-day, Phelim. Did Mr. Connor desire 
 you to clear out that passage ? " he asked. 
 
 " 'Deed no, me Lard ; 'twas meself thought 
 maybe 'twould be better. 'Tis three years, yer 
 
 Lardship knows, since 'twas " 
 
 Lord Kilconnell put up his hand hastily. 
 "Yes, yes, I know. All right, only don't 
 do more than is absolutely necessary. This is 
 a nice plant of araucaria, is it not ? " he con- 
 tinued to me, pointing to a shrub of sickly 
 aspect, half suffocated by grasses and wild briar. 
 I replied that it was, which was perfectly 
 untrue, and we continued looking at it for some 
 minutes in silence. 
 
 While we were still standing in the same 
 place I chanced to glance towards the entrance 
 of the cave, and perceived to my astonishment 
 that the man to whom Lord Kilconnell had just 
 spoken was going through the most extraordinary 
 series of pantomimes. With his head turned 
 in our direction, he was flinging his hands, now 
 upwards, now forwards, with a gesture directed 
 towards some one at the other end of the
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 93 
 
 garden, evidently with the desire of preventing 
 that person's approach. Curious to see to whom 
 this pantomime was addressed, I turned, and saw 
 that the little girl whom we had already noticed 
 had followed us into the garden, and was now 
 standing a little way off, her small face puckered 
 into a not unnatural expression of bewilderment. 
 A moment later Lord Kilconnell too turned, and 
 a smile lit up his eyes. 
 
 "Well, little girl. Come to look at the 
 garden, have you ? " said he. " There, there, 
 don't be frightened. Go and pick some flowers 
 for yourself. Who is she, Phelim ? " he added, 
 turning to the man, and speaking in a lower 
 tone. 
 
 But Phelim's face had assumed that ex- 
 pression of impenetrable stolidity which every 
 one who knows Ireland is intimately acquainted 
 with. 
 
 " Who's what, me Lard ? " he inquired, in a 
 tone of admirably natural astonishment. 
 
 Lord Kilconnell stepped a little aside, and 
 pointed to the child. 
 
 Phelim scratched his head with an air of blank 
 unrecognition. 
 
 " I dunno, me Lard. Maybe 'tis one of 
 thim lodger's childer that do be comin' for 
 the say water. Bad scran to them for lettin'
 
 94 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 her trispass over your Lardship's grounds. Will 
 I send her away before she does be spoilin' the 
 plants?" 
 
 " You never saw her before ? " 
 
 " Is it me, me Lard ? Sure, how would I ? 
 'Tis here to-day, and gone to-morrow, that 
 sort is." 
 
 " Very well, as you know nothing about her, 
 I'll take her back myself, and find out who she 
 belongs to. Come here, little girl, take this 
 lady's hand, and come along with us." 
 
 Attracted apparently by his voice, the child 
 had gradually approached of her own accord 
 along the walk. Lord Kilconnell advanced a 
 few steps to meet her, and they stood facing 
 one another. Then I saw an odd, startled ex- 
 pression come into his face, and he put his hand 
 quickly before his eyes, as if seized with giddi- 
 ness. The little girl seemed also suddenly to be 
 overtaken with fright, for, darting past us like 
 a rabbit, she rushed up to Phelim Delaney, 
 and, seizing him by the knees, pressed her 
 little head tightly against his body as if for 
 protection. 
 
 Sheelah barked with sudden excitement. Lord 
 Kilconnell wheeled round like a hawk. 
 
 "Why the child knows you perfectly well, 
 Phelim ! What the devil did you mean, you
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 95 
 
 impudent rascal, by telling me you had never 
 seen her before ? " he exclaimed angrily. 
 
 " Thin indade I humbly ask yer Lardship's 
 pardon whist, darlin' child, don't cry. Sure, 
 I didn't want to be bringin' them into trubble, 
 an' that's just the gospel truth. Dacint people 
 the Slatterlys are ; ould tinents of your Lard- 
 ship's and your Lardship's father before it ; safe 
 to the day with their rint, as your Lardship 
 knows." 
 
 " Oh, the child is a Slatterly, is she ? " 
 
 " She is, yer Lardship, that's just what she is, 
 Aleesha Mary Slatterly is her name. She'd tell 
 ye so herself, only it's dashed she is just now, 
 not being used to the quality." 
 
 " Every Slatterly I've ever seen was dark," 
 Lord Kilconnell said, looking at the child's hair 
 with an expression of suspicion. 
 
 " And that's true, for your Lardship. This 
 one now, she has a little shister at home born 
 the same minute as herself Rosabel Anna is 
 her name whose hair is as black as the tail 
 of a crow. One ov thim has taken all the 
 light colour, an' the other all the dark, I'm 
 thinkin'," Phelim ended, with an inimitable air 
 of mature reflection upon the subject. 
 
 In spite of this last piece of circumstantial 
 evidence, Lord Kilconnell seemed unconvinced.
 
 96 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 His eyes rested with an expression of trouble, 
 of growing perplexity, upon the child's fair 
 head. 
 
 " Come here, little girl," he said at last 
 gently. " Let her go, Phelim, damn you ! " 
 he added with sudden fierceness, seeing that the 
 man and child were remarkably unwilling to 
 part company. 
 
 " She's dashed, the cratur," the former said 
 apologetically. " She's afraid of being skelped 
 by her mither for troubbling your Lardship and 
 the leddy," with a sudden piteous glance in 
 my direction, which seemed to intimate a desire 
 to establish some channel of communication 
 with me. 
 
 "She has got a mother, has she?" Lord 
 Kilconnell asked quickly. 
 
 " A mither is it ? Niver a mither in the 
 warld, bad cess to me tongue for lyin'. Sure 
 her mither died the day she was born, an' that's 
 why she has the black on her, the cratur! " 
 
 This being scarcely a sufficient reason for a 
 little girl of five or six years old wearing 
 mourning, I here indulged in a slight laugh, 
 on hearing which Phelim gazed at me with an 
 expression of piteous resentment which ought 
 to have melted a stone. 
 
 Lord Kilconnell was not apparently inclined
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 97 
 
 to give up his point. " Come here, little girl," 
 he said again. Then when the child had re- 
 luctantly approached a few steps " Tell me 
 your name, pretty one, and don't be afraid. 
 Nobody is going to hurt you," he said, stooping 
 down so as to bring his face more on a level with 
 her tiny one. 
 
 The child looked up at him with eyes full 
 of frightened tears beautiful eyes they were, 
 and as blue as a blue nemophila. Then, 
 when he had repeated his question, " Uncle 
 Phelim thaid " she whimpered ; then sud- 
 denly stopped short, putting up both hands 
 to her eyes, and screwing them vigorously into 
 the corners. 
 
 Lord Kilconnell started upright, and looked 
 at the man over the child's head. It was a 
 look full of anger ; of passionate resentment, 
 and of something else that was almost, I 
 thought, like fear. 
 
 "'Tis a way they have of callin' me uncle," 
 that inveterate perverter of facts responded 
 shamelessly. " 'Tis along ov an ould song 
 * Teddy the tailor's uncle,' I do be singin' thim," 
 he added, although his lip trembled as he spoke, 
 and his cheek, I saw, had visibly paled. 
 
 This was too much for Lord Kilconnell's 
 patience. " Don't stand there lying to me, you 
 
 H
 
 98 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 scoundrel ! " he thundered. " Tell me this 
 
 instant who the child is, or by God I'll " 
 
 His hands, which he had clenched, suddenly 
 opened, and he caught at the air as if trying to 
 find something to support him. 
 
 Alarmed, I seized hold of him, Phelim ran 
 to the other side, and between us we kept him 
 upon his feet. I felt sure ~that he was going 
 to have a stroke, but by a great effort of will 
 he recovered, and looked round ; first at the 
 child, who had shrunk away behind us, and then 
 at the man, who stood trembling, and scarcely 
 less frightened beside him. 
 
 " You needn't tell me any more lies," he said 
 slowly and feebly ; " I know whose child she is. 
 I know " 
 
 Suddenly he stood upright, shaking off our 
 hold as he did so, and, seizing the child's hand, 
 he started away at a rapid walk. 
 
 I followed, alarmed, and not in the least 
 knowing what he proposed doing. We left 
 the garden, Sheelah trotting after us, and 
 turned in the direction of the sea. I heard 
 other steps, not Sheelah's, behind us, and knew, 
 without turning round, that Phelim had also 
 followed, unable doubtless to endure the sus- 
 pense of remaining behind. Luckily we had 
 not far to go. Before long we came to a good-
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 99 
 
 sized cabin, standing in the middle of a wood, 
 and almost hidden by a dense growth of over- 
 grown laurels and tall dilapidated elder-trees, 
 whose blossoms were filling the air with their 
 heavy narcotic scent. The door of the cabin 
 was shut, and the whole house appeared to 
 be deserted. Lord Kilconnell however went 
 straight up to it, and struck a single resounding 
 knock upon the door with his walking-stick. 
 
 There was a minute's pause a pause ap- 
 parently of consternation. Then it was cau- 
 tiously opened, and an old woman in a blue 
 homespun dress and striped shawl peered cau- 
 tiously out. At sight of the two who stood 
 there she uttered a scream of terror, and ran 
 hastily back, evidently with the intention of 
 giving a signal to some one within. She had 
 no time to do so. Quicker than thought Lord 
 Kilconnell followed, I after him, Sheelah after 
 me, and we all stood inside the cabin. There 
 in the middle of the floor stood a young woman, 
 dressed in black, who had evidently just sprung 
 to her feet, for she still held a little stocking 
 that she was knitting in her hand. A handsome 
 creature, with brown hair and grey eyes, like 
 Phelim's. 
 
 There was a pause, full of, I knew not what, 
 ominous suggestions. Then the girl she
 
 TOO TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 seemed to be little more sank upon her knees, 
 and began to sob. At first hardly audible, her 
 sobs gradually rose in the silence, louder and 
 louder until the whole cabin seemed to echo 
 with them. The old woman caught the infec- 
 tion, and stood rocking herself to and fro, wail- 
 ing as if in the presence of a corpse. It gave 
 me the strangest, the most overwhelming sense 
 of death ; an uncanny, eerie sensation, such as I 
 had never felt before. It seemed to affect Lord 
 Kilconnell in much the same way. The im- 
 pulse, whatever it was, that had brought him 
 to the cabin seemed to desert him. His anger 
 appeared to die suddenly away. He glanced 
 vaguely at me, as if to ask what he was to do in 
 this unforeseen dilemma. A fresh impulse, and 
 this time the determining one, came from the 
 little girl, whose hand he still retained. Pulling 
 it away, she ran forward, and flung herself upon 
 her mother, with a loud cry of distress, and 
 from this refuge looked back pitifully at the 
 old man, her blue eyes flooded with tears. Then 
 I knew why her eyes had seemed to me from 
 the first familiar. They were those of Dermot 
 Murrough, come to life again in the face of a 
 little child. 
 
 It was the turning-point ! Lord Kilconnell's 
 courage, his endurance, so long maintained,
 
 OLD LORD KILCONNELL 101 
 
 broke down. Covering his face with his hands, 
 he fell into helpless sobbing the heavy, slow- 
 coming tears of an old man. They were the 
 first tears, I imagine, that he had shed since 
 Dermot Murrough died. 
 
 My story is finished. Mrs. Dermot Mur- 
 rough left her mother's cabin the next day, but 
 she was not turned adrift. There happened to 
 be a good-sized cottage vacant, with a garden, 
 but no other land attached to it, and into this 
 she and her child were formally inducted. Lord 
 and Lady Saggart were furious, I was told, and 
 wanted, right or wrong, to have the " shameless 
 creature " driven from the property. This, 
 however, served her well rather than ill, there 
 being few things Lord Kilconnell resented more 
 than any hint of interference on the part of his 
 little-loved eldest son. Two or three evenings 
 later I happened to be returning alone in the 
 steam-launch, the rest of the party having got 
 out to walk home. The boatmen took me 
 close under the Castle Murrough woods, and I 
 lay back, and looked up at their tangled luxuri- 
 ance, rising curve above curve very brown and 
 battered those curves had grown to look during 
 the last fortnight. The chimneys of the " Great 
 House " were sending out thin columns of
 
 102 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 smoke ; a squadron of rooks were swooping 
 with much croaking clamour to their roost in 
 the big elms ; the sunset light was palpitating 
 in rapidly paling dots and streaks upon the 
 leaves ; upon the tops of the dilapidated gaze- 
 bos and aviaries, and upon the little boats curt- 
 sying at their anchorage in the clear brown 
 water. And higher up, upon the broad gravel 
 terrace which lay immediately in front of the 
 house, I could see three figures those of an old 
 man, a dog, and a little girl who were pacing 
 leisurely to and fro in the gathering dusk.
 
 OF THE INFLUENCE OF ASSASSIN- 
 ATION UPON A LANDSCAPE 
 
 THERE are places in Ireland in many other 
 parts of the world no doubt also, but one can 
 only speak of what one knows best at sight of 
 which one says to oneself instinctively, " Some- 
 thing must have happened here ! There must 
 be some story about t.fiis place ! " In nine cases 
 out of ten such impressions are the purest moon- 
 shine. Your highly suggestive-looking spot has 
 no history, or none that any one has ever heard 
 of, and it is some thoroughly matter-of-fact- 
 looking place, or some place over which an air 
 of delusive calm seems to brood, where the real 
 tragedies or the real horrors have occurred. 
 
 I remember a picnic once upon a time that 
 was dreadfully marred by a forgetfulness of this 
 fact. It was quite an impromptu picnic, and 
 had been suddenly arranged by my hostess and 
 myself, who had offered to go on ahead, and to 
 
 103
 
 104 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 get it ready before the rest of the party came up. 
 To save ourselves trouble, as well as utilize a 
 pony-carriage which carried our provisions, we 
 had selected a spot close to the high-road, but 
 then I must explain that this was in Donegal, 
 and in Donegal high-roads are often exceedingly 
 exclusive places, and this particular spot we had 
 hit upon appeared to be all that the least sociable 
 of picnic-makers could desire. A fern-covered 
 bank at the back, cutting off any chance of cold 
 wind ; a level space in front upon which even 
 wine-glasses might stand unsupported ; a salmon 
 stream tumbling and twinkling in bubbling 
 yellow curves a little to the left ; a long row 
 of melancholy stern-faced mountains. Add to 
 these a really magnificent chicken pasty to serve 
 as crown and centre to the whole picture, and 
 what more could the heart, the stomach, or the 
 imagination desire ? We looked about us at 
 the mountains, at the salmon-stream, and at the 
 chicken pasty and said to one another that 
 our selection could not possibly have been 
 improved upon. 
 
 Alas for our pride ! Hardly had we com- 
 pleted our preparations, before, far down the 
 road, the tall figure of my host, who was also 
 my friend's husband, was seen advancing rapidly 
 towards us. Even while still a long way off there
 
 INFLUENCE OF ASSASSINATION 105 
 
 were evident signs of disturbance about his aspect ; 
 his very coat tails seemed to swing and sway with 
 indignation. What was it ? we asked ourselves 
 with some apprehension. Could any disaster 
 have happened in the short space of time that 
 had elapsed since we parted ? That our own 
 praiseworthy doings could by any possibility be 
 the subject of these demonstrations seemed at 
 first too preposterous to be believed. And yet 
 No ! Yes ! yes, it really was ! it really did seem 
 to be at us that he was pointing, at us that he 
 was waving his arms so vehemently and indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 We were not long left in any doubt upon 
 that subject. 
 
 "Take away those things ! Good heavens, 
 what could have induced you to stick them 
 in that place ? Put them away at once, before 
 any one sees them," he cried in imperative accents 
 to his wife, and, without deigning to explain 
 matters further, sped off indignantly down the 
 road. 
 
 Now there are occasions few, I admit, but 
 still some when a guest has a right to fly 
 into a rage with her host, and this I felt to be 
 one of them. " Why should we not set out our 
 picnic where we chose ? If we were good enough 
 and kind enough to take the trouble of arranging
 
 io6 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 it for other people, what business was it of theirs 
 to interfere with our selection ? " I looked in 
 speechless indignation at my companion, and 
 was pleased to see that even her usual equan- 
 imity seemed to be disturbed ; so at least I 
 judged by the air of firm wifely authority with 
 which, after a moment's delay, and a business- 
 like nod to me, she followed the coat tails down 
 the road. 
 
 She came back after a minute's colloquy, 
 looking rather paler than before, but evidently 
 satisfied. 
 
 "John was perfectly right," she said, indicat- 
 ing the still agitated coat tails. " Do you 
 know what that place is ? " pointing to our 
 poor feast which still sadly encumbered the 
 ground. " It is the very spot where that un- 
 happy man Nolan was murdered last March 
 year ! He was shot, you may remember, on 
 his way back from the assizes where he had 
 gone to give evidence. John had to be present 
 at the inquest so naturally knew it again 
 directly he saw it." 
 
 There was nothing further to be said, and as 
 I helped to bundle away our unhappy arrange- 
 ments, I was obliged to admit the justice of 
 " John's " suddenly awakened wrath, with the 
 private reservation, however, that, if eminently
 
 INFLUENCE OF ASSASSINATION 107 
 
 satisfactory so far as he was concerned, it could 
 hardly be called an addition to the pleasantness 
 of Donegal picnics. 
 
 This only too truthful little anecdote is, 
 however, merely incidental, and has no other 
 connection with the following tale than as an 
 illustration of the always appropriate truism 
 that it is unsafe to go entirely by appearances. 
 It is not in places of this kind, moreover, that 
 impressions such as those I have alluded to ever 
 grow fixed and stereotyped. Nature heaven 
 bless her for it ! is the most discreet, the most 
 delicate of housekeepers, and knows how to 
 make smooth her ruffled shrines, and to re-adorn 
 her desecrated sanctuaries, with a deftness and a 
 rapidity which soon turns even the worst of our 
 poor human Golgothas into green Edens, and 
 freshly blooming Arcadias. It is in places where 
 she does not get fair play, or in places where we 
 have overlaid her handiwork with our own 
 clumsier fabrics, that the sense of gloom and of 
 tragedy seems to get incorporated as it were in 
 the very stones. Setting aside houses, which of 
 course carry their histories, sometimes their very 
 destinies, written upon their faces, there are 
 smaller pieces of man's handiwork which possess 
 this rather questionable prerogative. Entrance- 
 gates, for instance, are often very significant
 
 io8 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 objects, and nowhere more significant or more 
 characteristic than in Ireland. 
 
 Who that knows that country at all familiarly 
 has not made acquaintance with some ferociously 
 frowning gateway, all crenellations and castel- 
 lated copings ; a gateway beset with rows of 
 apparently impregnable battlements, or flanked 
 by towers pierced with sinister slits evidently 
 for the convenience of archers. A gateway 
 whose mingled ferocity and exclusiveness would 
 strike consternation into our very souls did we 
 not know as, if we belong to the neighbour- 
 hood, we naturally do know, that a few yards 
 to the right or left of it we shall come upon 
 some friendly ragged hedge, through the gaps 
 in which the cows are in the habit of sauntering 
 out at their pleasure, in order to enjoy an illicit 
 mouthful of grass upon the Queen's high-road. 
 
 Again there are other gateways, which if less 
 threatening than these, seem to have attuned 
 themselves to the melancholy elements of our 
 natures, and to be laying themselves out some- 
 times to an even theatrical degree to working 
 upon those elements. Broken, bulging, dis- 
 coloured, falling in pieces ; a prey to gods and 
 men ; ill-used by weather, by passing boys, by 
 passing cows, they seem to say, " We were not 
 always thus ! We too have known happier
 
 INFLUENCE OF ASSASSINATION 109 
 
 days ! We have been opened by eager hands ! 
 We have clanged cheerfully after departing 
 guests ! We were reared in much hope ! We 
 have shut in much hospitality. We have been 
 the portals to much friendliness ! Look on us ! 
 Pity us ! ye that pass by ! " 
 
 Towards such almost professional applicants 
 for public pity, it may be well for prudent 
 people to preserve a somewhat cautious atti- 
 tude, and not allow themselves to be drawn 
 out into sympathy without a due inquiry into 
 the circumstances of each individual case. 
 There are other gateways, however, which 
 do not appeal in so histrionic a fashion to 
 the merest tripper, but which, to those who 
 are behind the scenes, are known to have been 
 really the portals to a good deal of genuine 
 tragedy ; sometimes to an amount of sheer suffer- 
 ing, which it would seem to need a Dante or 
 an ^Eschylus to do justice to. 
 
 The particular gateway which I have at this 
 moment in my mind is not distinguished over 
 other deserted gateways in any marked or 
 demonstrative manner. It is dilapidated-look- 
 ing, certainly, and the avenue to which it 
 leads is greener than many grass fields ; green 
 with that peculiarly clinging vegetation which 
 grows upon disused roadways ; but beyond this
 
 no TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 there is nothing that would oblige you, if you 
 were passing by, to stop and look at it unless 
 you knew its history. 
 
 Mount Kennedy as the house to which it 
 leads is called has for nearly a century been 
 uninhabited, and at present belongs to a well-to- 
 do land-owner in the neighbourhood. It has 
 often been a matter of surprise, especially to 
 strangers, why he should like to keep anything 
 so forlorn close to his own rather noticeably 
 spick-and-span abode. Probably the explana- 
 tion is to be found in the fact that it had, even 
 before his time, reached a stage of dilapidation 
 which rendered any hope of letting, or otherwise 
 disposing of it, hopeless, while, on the other 
 hand, there is a well-understood reluctance in 
 Ireland to pulling down and utterly abolishing 
 the memory of those who have once " reigned " 
 in any given spot ; a reluctance naturally increased 
 in this case by the peculiar circumstances under 
 which Mount Kennedy passed out of the hands 
 of its former owner. 
 
 A small but fascinating little stream, rapid, 
 babbling, confidential, ending in a tossing imp 
 of a waterfall, is only to be reached down this 
 green approach, a circumstance which has several 
 times brought me within sight of the derelict 
 house. Last time I found myself there I was
 
 INFLUENCE OF ASSASSINATION in 
 
 alone, and curiosity induced me to approach 
 nearer to it than I had ever hitherto done. On 
 doing so I discovered that part of one side of the 
 porch had fallen in, doubtless from the rotting of 
 some of the timbers beneath, so that, although 
 the front door still remained bolted and barred, I 
 could peep in, and make out nearly the whole of 
 the entrance hall. It was a small square hall, and 
 from one of its mouldering walls a couple of huge 
 elks' horns still branched colossally. Beyond, 
 through a half-open door, I could see a corner 
 of what had evidently been one of the living- 
 rooms, with part of an enormous fireplace, black, 
 or rather greenish - grey, with that insidious 
 mouldiness which, in this climate, sooner or 
 later overtakes everything. 
 
 There was something piteous in the sug- 
 gestion thus called up of what had doubtless 
 once been a warm hearth, lit, as hearths in this 
 neighbourhood are wont to be, by a mountain 
 of glowing turf; now for ever blackened, and 
 given over to gloom, emptiness, and the extreme 
 of desolation. Where I stood the air was warm 
 and comforting ; the trees around were soft 
 with greenish yellows or dusky reds ; an old 
 disused graveyard which lay a little below the 
 house proffered its appropriate quota of reflec- 
 tion, and I lingered a while, supping, half
 
 ii2 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 luxuriously, as one sometimes does, upon that 
 sense of all-pervading melancholy which, when 
 it does not come home too pressingly to oneself, 
 is rarely without charm. 
 
 That something keener and sharper than such 
 mild meditations would have been more appro- 
 priate to this particular scene I was already 
 aware, though hardly to the extent which I 
 realized after an opportunity, which I shortly 
 afterwards enjoyed, of talking over the whole 
 story with the son of an actual partaker in it. 
 I will take up the thread of that story at what 
 may be called its most dramatic moment, thus 
 sparing you those preliminary hums and haws 
 which are apt to be the bore of such recitals.
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 
 
 A poor plain man, sent to the shades below ; 
 
 A poor kind man, whose kindness wrought his woe. 
 
 Who loved his home, his people, and his land, 
 
 Loved e'en his King love hard to understand ! 
 
 Good people, ye who live in easier days, 
 
 List to this tale. Give it nor blame nor praise, 
 
 Only its simple moral lay to heart 
 
 No peace had they who took the middle part. 
 
 LORD BALLYBROPHY was dreadfully dis- 
 turbed. He was standing in his own deer- 
 park, looking down a long bracken glade, upon 
 one side of which lay a small triangular-shaped 
 wood, across which the sun was just then 
 shaking its last rays. He had dined, for it 
 was already seven o'clock, and four was the 
 fashionable dinner -hour a century ago in 
 Ireland. He had dined largely, liberally, 
 and had strolled forth to enjoy an hour's 
 saunter over the grass, previous to settling 
 
 113 i
 
 ii4 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 down for the night to cards. All this was 
 quite as it ought to be, yet his mind was 
 most unaccustomarily disturbed, and what the 
 cause of that disturbance was you are about 
 to be informed. 
 
 It was a year when a good many Irish 
 people's minds were disturbed the still un- 
 forgotten year of 'Ninety-eight. For months 
 the whole country had been ringing, first with 
 alarms, then with the actual details of Rebellion. 
 It was not that any pains had been spared by 
 the executive of the day to hinder the mis- 
 guided island from rushing upon its destruction. 
 For nearly a year past an indefatigable soldiery 
 had been allowed full discretion, and in their 
 zeal for the cause of loyalty had spared no 
 means to coerce recusants into the paths of 
 order. The Commander-in-Chief who immedi- 
 ately preceded Lord Cornwallis was a man 
 known to entertain the largest and most liberal 
 ideas in this respect, and as such to be fully 
 worthy of the confidence reposed in him by his 
 superiors in England. At the time of which 
 this story treats, the first scenes of the rising 
 were already over, but the fire still in places 
 burned fiercely, and that same system of 
 energetic, and not always fantastically dis-
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 115 
 
 criminating, discipline was still held to be 
 indispensable. 
 
 This larger view of the matter was not, how- 
 ever, what was chiefly disturbing Lord Bally- 
 brophy's mind. It was a smaller and a much 
 more personal one. In his youth and early man- 
 hood his most intimate friend had been Eustace 
 Kennedy, the son and heir of the owner of the 
 neighbouring property of Mount Kennedy, the 
 entrance gate of which stood nearly opposite to 
 the Bally brophy one. The two young men 
 had been at College together ; had stood by 
 one another in not a few duels, and had seen 
 together the bottom of more bowls of punch 
 than it would be possible at this hour to 
 enumerate. When, therefore, upon his fathers 
 death, Lord Bally brophy had succeeded to the 
 family estates, it had been an additional satis- 
 faction in the lot to which a kind Providence 
 had called him that his friend Eustace, whose 
 father was also dead, would be his nearest neigh- 
 bour, and would be able to help him in carry- 
 ing out not a few local reforms upon which 
 his own energetic mind was already actively 
 engaged. 
 
 Alas for these anticipations ! " Constancy 
 lives in realms above, and life is thorny, and
 
 ii6 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 youth is vain," and before many years the two 
 men had quarrelled bitterly, and the cause of 
 this quarrel had been no other than that 
 ridiculous little piece of triangular woodland, 
 at which Lord Ballybrophy was at this moment 
 gazing ! 
 
 To begin with, it was a " Naboth's vineyard," 
 a fragment of the smaller property which had 
 got enclosed, as happens sometimes, in the larger 
 one. Lord Ballybrophy would willingly have 
 purchased it at many times its value. Eustace 
 Kennedy, who was always more or less in want 
 of money, would probably as willingly have 
 sold it. Unfortunately it was impossible. A 
 strict entail barred him from doing so, added 
 to which, at the farther end of the wood lay 
 a graveyard, still used by the Kennedy family, 
 and as such inalienable. 
 
 It was not the mere fact of the existence of 
 this Naboth's vineyard so much as certain cir- 
 cumstances which arose out of its ownership 
 which had caused the breach. Lord Bally- 
 brophy was, even in his youth, a strict dis- 
 ciplinarian ; one of those men to whom the 
 belief in a natural hierarchy is almost a matter 
 of religion. Believing as he did in the inherent 
 difference between let us say pewter and silver 
 he held it to be the duty of the latter in
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 117 
 
 all things to direct, to control, and if neces- 
 sary to coerce the former. Now upon these 
 points Eustace Kennedy was deplorably lax. 
 He was emphatically what people call "easy- 
 going." Probably he had always been so, but 
 it was only when he became a neighbouring 
 proprietor that the trait revealed itself to Lord 
 Ballybrophy in all its heinousness. He did 
 not, for instance, care about game-preserving 
 himself, and what was much worse, he did not 
 sufficiently concern himself about the game 
 rights of others. He allowed the Mount 
 Kennedy property to drift along in a comfort- 
 able, happy-go-lucky, time-immemorial fashion. 
 His tenants did as they liked. Their rents 
 were never raised. Their wives might rear as 
 many chickens and pigs as they chose. Their 
 children were allowed to pick sticks through 
 all the Kennedy woods. And if a stout gossoon 
 knocked over a hare or a rabbit, and carried 
 it home under his rags to his mother's pot, 
 Eustace Kennedy was capable of winking 
 hard, and declining to prosecute the offender, 
 even when the deed was brought home to 
 him in the clearest and most unmistakable 
 light. 
 
 All this was very painful to his friend, the 
 rather that, owing to the position of that un-
 
 n8 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 lucky little Naboth's vineyard, the Kennedy 
 " tinints," their wives, children, chickens, pigs, 
 and families generally, were continually tres- 
 passing upon the Bally brophy property. No 
 matter what leg-breaking man-traps, no matter 
 what hand- or foot-destroying fences were 
 put up, under, or over, such fences those 
 " tinints " would manage to crawl, or otherwise 
 get. Walking in his woods, Lord Ballybrophy 
 would continually come upon traces of recent 
 depredations. The marks of bare feet upon 
 the poached mud of a gap would stare him in 
 the face. Broken twigs from his young planta- 
 tions would litter the ground. Worse still, there 
 were dark suspicions in the form of rabbits or 
 hares believed to have been trapped, and always, 
 as his gamekeepers were ready to take oath, by 
 " thim owdacious divils " from the other side 
 of the fence ! 
 
 At last the fire, long smouldering, burst into 
 open flame. A boy was caught red-handed 
 with a rabbit in his possession, which he was 
 taking home to his grandmother. He was not 
 actually captured upon the Ballybrophy estate, 
 but upon the limit of that wood which broke 
 like a splinter through the centre of it, and so 
 grievously marred its symmetry. This being 
 the case, it was clear that the rabbit in question
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 119 
 
 must be a Ballybrophy rabbit, and as such Lord 
 Ballybrophy was entirely within his rights in 
 insisting that his friend Eustace Kennedy should 
 prosecute the offender. 
 
 This Eustace Kennedy peremptorily declined 
 to do. As it happened, the boy was the grand- 
 son of an old pensioner and former servant of 
 the Kennedys, a certain Thaddeus or Thady 
 O'Roon, a privileged old being, united to his 
 master by one of those odd ties, half-feudal, 
 half-personal, of which our more advanced civil- 
 ization has well-nigh forgotten the existence. 
 With that disproportionate vehemence which 
 was one of his failings, Eustace Kennedy swore, 
 and moreover swore before witnesses, that rather 
 than break old Thady's heart by sending his 
 grandson to jail, possibly to the gallows for 
 the game laws were no joke in those days 
 
 every rabbit in the county of C might, for 
 
 aught he cared, be killed and eaten. 
 
 O ' 
 
 Lord Ballybrophy's patience, long tried, fairly 
 broke down under this unneighbourly conduct. 
 Mr. Kennedy, he retorted with a formality 
 which only characterized him in moments of 
 displeasure, must choose between the O'Roon 
 family and himself. If his regard for those 
 interesting persons was of so excessively tender 
 a nature that he preferred it to his duties as a
 
 120 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 landlord, and to the ordinary courtesies of a 
 neighbour and a gentleman, Lord Ballybrophy 
 regretted the circumstance, but could not, in duty 
 to himself, continue to hold further friendly 
 relations with one whose views of the be- 
 coming stood in such diametrical contrast to 
 his own. 
 
 The quarrel, thus handsomely inaugurated, 
 grew and deepened as it is the fashion of quarrels 
 to do. Eustace Kennedy made one or two 
 efforts towards a reconciliation, but since nothing 
 would induce him to yield in the main point, 
 his efforts made matters rather worse than better. 
 The close propinquity of the once friends, now 
 foes, added fuel to the fire. Perceiving how 
 matters stood, the underlings on both sides 
 made haste to pour oil upon the flames. In 
 short, it was as pretty a quarrel as the county 
 of C had enjoyed for many a year past. 
 
 So matters had gone on nearly up to the time 
 at which this little history is laid. In the inter- 
 val both gentlemen had married, but neither of 
 those events had produced the slightest relax- 
 ation in their mutual attitude. The ladies, 
 consequently, were all but strangers to one 
 another, and no intercourse had been kept up 
 between the two houses, although so near were 
 they that the graveyard belonging to the
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 121 
 
 Kennedy family actually constituted an incon- 
 veniently conspicuous object from the windows 
 of the " Great House," as Lord Ballybrophy's 
 residence was called in the neighbourhood. 
 
 If private affairs were stationary, public ones 
 meanwhile had been moving rapidly, and the 
 unhappy country had been drifting nearer and 
 nearer to that vortex of rebellion into which a 
 large portion of it was destined to plunge. 
 Then it was that that laxity of principles so 
 long obvious to his neighbour and quondam 
 friend began to be generally observed in Eustace 
 Kennedy. It was not that he shared in the 
 revolutionary sentiments with which many of 
 his countrymen were at that time saturated ; far 
 less that he took any personal part in the rising. 
 It was that as a magistrate and a local magnate 
 he was again deplorably " lax," and it was this 
 laxity which proved his ruin. Even the fierce 
 heat of a religious and social panic could not 
 turn the too mild milk of his nature to anything 
 resembling gall. He even, contrary to his 
 customary indolence, went the length of remon- 
 strating with the local military authorities against 
 what seemed to him their excess of zeal, espe- 
 cially as to their mode of extracting evidence, 
 which he actually went so far as to assert was 
 contrary to the dictates of common humanity.
 
 122 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 That these observations produced no result, 
 beyond causing him to be regarded as a fire- 
 brand and a favourer of rebels, goes with- 
 out saying ; human nature being so constituted 
 that only one violent sentiment can, as a rule, 
 be comfortably entertained by us at any given 
 time. 
 
 Nor had Mr. Kennedy the prudence, when 
 he discovered the impression produced, to 
 change his tactics, and at once distinguish him- 
 self by a greater degree of zeal than his neigh- 
 bours. On the contrary, when every other 
 gentleman in the county either fled from home, 
 or implored to have troops sent into his house 
 for protection, he did neither ; declaring that he 
 felt no fears upon his own account, and repeat- 
 ing those uncomplimentary remarks with regard 
 to the troops in question which had already 
 produced so strong and so natural a feeling of 
 resentment against himself. 
 
 Had he stated publicly that his Majesty 
 King George III. had no right to the throne 
 upon which he then sat, it would have been 
 a less hazardous proceeding at the moment ! 
 Not only every soldier in the district, but every 
 official in Ireland was in arms against him. " He 
 became a marked man, and it was openly 
 declared in official circles that Mr. Kennedy, of
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 123 
 
 Mount Kennedy, either was already a rebel, 
 or would shortly be proved to be one. 
 
 Nor had the prophets long to wait. The 
 Rebellion broke out ; its leaders having been 
 arrested in time, the command fell into any 
 hands willing to take it up. A thousand wild 
 schemes were proposed, and a certain number 
 were attempted to be acted upon. There were 
 hasty marches, or rather headlong scampers of 
 frieze-coated levies, hither and thither about the 
 
 county of C . There were sundry isolated 
 
 acts of hideous barbarity, combined with not 
 a few acts of oddly unexpected kindliness and 
 pitifulness. There were wild scenes of child- 
 ish panic ; and there were other scenes that 
 for dare-devil courage and tenacity have not 
 often been equalled by forces equally ill-armed 
 and undisciplined. In the course of these 
 various manoeuvres it came into the heads of a 
 certain portion of the rebel force to take posses- 
 sion of the grounds of Mount Kennedy, and to 
 establish a temporary camp upon the lawn. The 
 owner's leave was not asked, so that his partici- 
 pation in the arrangement was a purely negative 
 one. Next morning the unwelcome visitors 
 departed ; smashing fences and outhouses, break- 
 ing down gates, and generally destroying every- 
 thing on which they could lay their hands, but
 
 124 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 giving so it was subsequently sworn at his 
 trial three cheers for their unwilling enter- 
 tainer as they went. 
 
 Those three cheers proved to be Eustace 
 Kennedy's death-warrant ! On the ragged host 
 poured ; shouting, gesticulating, yelling. The 
 attack that day was intended, I believe, to be a 
 surprise ! The result was what might have been 
 expected. The suburbs of the nearest town 
 were taken with yells of enthusiasm ; a little 
 further on the rebels were met by a steady fire 
 of musketry, before which their undisciplined 
 force collapsed like a pricked balloon. The 
 slaughter was considerable. Many of the un- 
 fortunate rebels tried to take refuge in the 
 houses ; but the houses were set on fire by the 
 soldiery, and ... in short we are not called 
 upon by the necessities of our tale to go further 
 in this direction, and the reader will probably 
 be thankful. Punishment by the sword being 
 over, judicial punishment followed. A former 
 sergeant, believed to have taken part with the 
 rebels, was the first arrest made, the second was 
 Mr. Eustace Kennedy of Mount Kennedy, who 
 was triumphantly captured the next afternoon 
 in his dining-room, while sitting at dinner there 
 with his family. 
 
 The news of this successful arrest was brought
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 125 
 
 to Ballybrophy House the following morning 
 by the officers quartered there, two of whom, a 
 captain and a cornet, had already been named as 
 amongst those who were to sit upon the court- 
 martial appointed to try the culprit. 
 
 " Gad ! the fellow has done for himself now, 
 and no mistake ! " Captain Bullock, the captain 
 in question, exclaimed gleefully. " Couldn't 
 have managed it better if he had tried for a 
 
 century, d him ! None of your half 
 
 measures, praise the stars ! Court-martial to- 
 day, sentence to-morrow, hanged the day after ! 
 That's your style, gentlemen, and I only wish 
 we could rattle off the rest of the rascals in the 
 same fashion ! " 
 
 " But, goodness gracious me ! Do I under- 
 stand you, Captain Bullock ? " Lady Ballybrophy 
 exclaimed, dropping her egg-spoon in her con- 
 sternation. " Mr. Kennedy of Mount Kennedy 
 Mr. Kennedy, our nearest neighbour ! 
 
 our Me lord ! Me lord, d'ye hear ? Oh 
 
 my goodness gracious ! Me lord ! Me lord ! 
 Are you listening, me lord ? " 
 
 " 'Pon honour, your la' ship, if I'd ha' guessed 
 your la'ship 'ud ha' taken it so, 'pon honour I'd 
 ha' held my tongue about the matter," Captain 
 Bullock replied in rather crestfallen tones. 
 ** But I never dreamt your la'ship would interest
 
 126 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 yourself in such a fellow. Why, he's known 
 
 and cited all over the county of C for a 
 
 common firebrand ! Every one has heard of 
 
 the way he spoke of Colonel B ; your 
 
 la'ship sure knows all about that ? And think 
 
 too of the example ! Why, d it all 
 
 begging your la'ship's pardon those turf-and- 
 buttermilk rascals would never have had the 
 impudence to lift their noses if 't hadn't been 
 for fellows like this Kennedy a gentleman born, 
 curse him ! condoling with them, and talking 
 up and down the country about their treatment. 
 Their treatment ! Why the very expression is 
 treasonable, and so I'm sure my lord will say ! " 
 But my lord said nothing. The news had 
 shocked Lord Ballybrophy beyond all power of 
 speaking. With that rapid revulsion to a half- 
 forgotten sentiment of which even well-balanced 
 minds are capable under strong emotion, he 
 suddenly felt all his old affection for his former 
 friend spring up again within him at the news 
 of his appalling peril. Making an excuse for 
 leaving the room, he spent the whole of the rest 
 of that day pacing to and fro in his study, a prey 
 to the liveliest anxiety, now and then sending 
 
 to C Courthouse to find out how the case 
 
 was proceeding, and what the chances were of a 
 favourable verdict.
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 127 
 
 He was not long kept in suspense. The next 
 day but one came the news that the court- 
 martial's proceedings had been quite as rapid 
 and unhesitating as Captain Bullock had pre- 
 dicted, and that its sentence was Death ! 
 Lord Ballybrophy suffered horribly. Had he 
 been instrumental himself in that result he could 
 hardly have felt it more. After a sleepless 
 night, he ordered his horse early the next 
 morning and galloped off ten miles to the house of 
 the Lord- Lieutenant of the county, a nobleman 
 who, as the master of many votes, had no small 
 influence with the powers that were. Here, by 
 dint of vehement entreaties, he induced him to 
 bestir himself actively, and both gentlemen 
 besieged the gates of mercy, so as to try to 
 obtain, if not a reversal of the sentence, at least 
 a postponement of it. 
 
 Unfortunately they found those gates doubly 
 and trebly barred against their efforts. Lord 
 Camden, the Lord-Lieutenant, whose tenure of 
 office was just then ending, was himself at his 
 wit's end with alarm and conflicting rumours. 
 Lord Ballybrophy went to Dublin, and saw him, 
 but the interview proved utterly barren of 
 results. His Excellency regretted the affair ; 
 was quite willing to admit the severity of the 
 sentence ; Mr. Kennedy, he had heard, was a
 
 gentleman of the utmost amiability in private 
 life so, for that matter, were many of the 
 leaders in this atrocious rebellion. He would 
 have been truly glad for the sake of the family 
 to have been able to show mercy, but really 
 examples, you know, examples were terribly 
 wanted ! The condition of the country was 
 shocking ; the seeds of disaffection spreading 
 daily. And it had been reported to him by the 
 military authorities that an example of this sort 
 would be sure to have a great, and an immedi- 
 ately good effect. 
 
 In vain Lord Ballybrophy pointed out that, 
 as Mr. Kennedy was not a rebel, to hang him 
 could hardly produce any particular effect one 
 way or other upon those that were. His 
 Excellency, as a matter of politeness, admitted 
 the argument, but clung all the same tenaciously 
 to his position. If Mr. Kennedy was not a 
 rebel, then probably he was a United Irishman ; 
 or if he was not a United Irishman, then he was 
 certain to be tainted with dangerous principles 
 of some sort, or he would never have used the 
 offensive language he had about officers com- 
 manding in the C district. In short, his case 
 
 was clearly not one of those in which the arms 
 of justice could with any safety be shortened. 
 
 While Lord Ballybrophy was thus incon-
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 129 
 
 veniencing officials in Dublin, Mrs. Kennedy 
 had been similarly engaged upon the spot. 
 It had come to her knowledge that several 
 important witnesses upon her husband's side 
 Protestant witnesses, and persons of the 
 most unblemished loyalty had been refused 
 admittance to the court by the sentries on 
 guard upon the day of the trial, and, armed 
 with this apparently irresistible plea for delay, 
 she presented herself boldly before General 
 
 H , by whom the fatal sentence would 
 
 have to be confirmed. 
 
 The conversation which took place on this 
 occasion is so short, and has been so well authen- 
 ticated, that it seems worth setting it down in 
 full. 
 
 Upon 'finding herself in the great man's 
 presence, Mrs. Kennedy lost no time, but at 
 once entered a protest against the sentence, so 
 hastily passed, being carried into execution. 
 
 " And pray, madam," exclaimed the General 
 impatiently, " what grounds have you for 
 asking for any delay ? " 
 
 The poor lady might perhaps have answered 
 with truth that she had a good many grounds, 
 but being, as it appears, a person of unusually 
 strong practical sense, she contented herself with 
 stating briefly what has been said above about
 
 130 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 the refusal of the sentries to admit her husband's 
 witnesses into court. 
 
 " Good God, madam ! Are you certain of 
 what you are stating there ? " her hearer ex- 
 claimed, with some dismay. 
 
 " I am perfectly certain, sir," she replied, 
 quietly, " and can prove it upon the oaths of 
 the Prevented." 
 
 With that she put her hand into her pocket, 
 and proceeded to read aloud a deposition attested 
 upon oath by one of the said Prevented. Un- 
 fortunately, before she had got to the bottom 
 of the first page an orderly rushed in with an 
 
 important dispatch. General H read it, 
 
 muttered a hasty apology, and rushed from the 
 room. Mrs. Kennedy never saw him again. 
 
 Whether upon reconsidering the matter he felt 
 that it would be ungentlemanlike to "go behind" 
 his subordinates ; whether time pressed, and it 
 was too troublesome to go over the same ground 
 twice, or whether the crowning necessity of an 
 " example " forced his hand, whatever the cause 
 may have been, it is certain that no delay did 
 take place. On ,he contrary, the sentence was 
 rigorously carried out the very next day, down 
 to its last grim detail, at the termination of 
 which ceremonial Eustace Kennedy's head was 
 set up upon the spikes of C jail almost
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 131 
 
 within view of his own drawing-room windows. 
 One relaxation must be recorded. By a special 
 act of grace his Excellency Lord Camden desired 
 that what remained of the criminal not his 
 head, which was otherwise required should be 
 restored to the widow, to be interred as she 
 thought fit; if indeed she could discover any 
 clergyman bold enough to utter Christian rites 
 over so scandalous an offender. 
 
 Lord Ballybrophy took the matter very badly. 
 He could not get it out of his mind. Day and 
 night he was haunted by the thought of Eustace 
 Kennedy. Now he reproached himself that he 
 had not flung aside all decorum and openly 
 supported his poor friend in the dock ; now, 
 that he had ever allowed that foolish quarrel 
 to grow up, which had robbed the latter at a 
 critical time of his own priceless advice ; again, 
 that he had not at least exchanged a last 
 melancholy handshake with poor Eustace in 
 
 C jail. No amount of self-argument ; no 
 
 amount of knowledge that the deceased had 
 brought it upon himself if not by what he 
 was accused of, at least by a disregard of his own 
 interests which amounted to a crime all this 
 was of no avail. The sight of the two officers 
 who had served upon the court-martial became 
 like poison to him. He could not eat with
 
 132 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 their detested faces opposite. His food did 
 him no good. Even steady drinking the 
 usually infallible comfort and refuge of his 
 age brought him no perceptible relief. He 
 wandered incessantly through his grounds, and 
 about the deer-park; fixing his eyes now upon 
 Mount Kennedy House, now upon its church- 
 yard, now again upon the distant landscape; at 
 which point he would suddenly avert his eyes 
 with a horribly vivid realization of what was 
 at that moment to be seen upon the top of 
 
 C jail, the walls of which even at this 
 
 distance were perceptible between the last big 
 pair of oaks. 
 
 It was in this uncomfortable condition of 
 mind that we found him upon the evening 
 selected to take up this little history, and which 
 was only separated by a few days from the 
 events above recorded. Ever since dinner he 
 had been wandering about he knew not him- 
 self why or whither feeling only that it was 
 impossible for him to return to the house and 
 to take up his own ordinary and dignified rble 
 in life. The sun sank. The night fell. A 
 moon began to twinkle upon the grass, and to 
 illuminate the bracken, but still Lord Bally- 
 brophy lingered. His thoughts were in the 
 past ; his mind kept going over and over again
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 133 
 
 scenes in which he and Eustace Kennedy had 
 taken part. Even his friend's faults ; that un- 
 fortunate " laxity " of his ; his easy-going ways ; 
 his lack of personal dignity ; the ridiculous in- 
 dulgence he had always shown to his inferiors ; 
 all these were forgotten ; irradiated by that 
 light which Death is apt to confer upon those 
 who have passed beyond the reach of our most 
 vigilant criticism. 
 
 Suddenly, as he stood gazing across the park, 
 now white as paper in the moonlight, a figure 
 crossed the plane of his vision. It was a very 
 odd-looking figure odd enough to have caused 
 a superstitious mind to take it for one of those 
 familiar gnomes or elderly pixies known as 
 " cluricans," and famous in Irish fairy lore as 
 the bearers of bags or purses which, if seized 
 at the right moment, will render their captor 
 rich ever after beyond the dreams of misers. 
 Like the clurican, the figure in question more- 
 over carried a bag, which it seemed to be anxious 
 to conceal from observation, for every now and 
 then it paused, peered cautiously round it, and 
 again proceeded slowly and laboriously on its 
 way. 
 
 Lord Ballybrophy was not superstitious 
 certainly not in so ignorant a fashion as this 
 and it did not occur to him to suspect the
 
 134 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 figure he was looking at of being anything so 
 vulgar as a fairy. For all that he eyed it 
 with considerable suspicion, as indeed was only 
 natural; the times not being so safe or so 
 simple that unaccounted-for figures could be 
 allowed to prowl as they pleased across a 
 gentleman's private deer-park. 
 
 Suddenly he recognized it. It was that 
 rascally old poacher, and progenitor of poachers, 
 Thady O'Roon, the original, the utterly con- 
 temptible cause of the quarrel between himself 
 and poor Eustace Kennedy ! 
 
 A flood of angry recollections poured across 
 his mind at the remembrance. But for that 
 miserable old creature who knows but what they 
 might never have quarrelled ? Who knows but 
 what his friend might at that moment be alive ? 
 
 " Poaching again too ! " he exclaimed aloud. 
 "And poor Eustace that so believed in their 
 gratitude ! " 
 
 Why he should have felt the offence of 
 poaching to be an especial insult to Eustace's 
 memory, seeing that when alive he had never 
 shown any adequate sense of its enormity, he 
 could not have explained. It was not strictly 
 logical, but then, our emotions are often not 
 strictly logical. Anyhow the event gave a fresh 
 turn to the current of Lord Ballybrophy's
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 135 
 
 thoughts, which so far was a benefit. He started 
 off, and ran actively down the grass, which here 
 lay at a considerable slope, calling as he did so 
 in commanding tones to the poacher to stop. 
 
 Instead of doing anything of the sort, the 
 old fellow, after a violent start, ran on all the 
 faster in the direction in which he was going, 
 which would take him in a few minutes out 
 of the deer-park into that triangular-shaped 
 piece of wood of which mention has already 
 several times been made. 
 
 Lord Ballybrophy followed hotly. If he had 
 paused to consider the matter, perhaps the late- 
 ness of the hour, combined with a sense of his 
 own dignity, might have hindered his doing so. 
 As it was, he did not pause to consider. The 
 most elementary of all instincts, the instinct 
 of the hunter, was aroused, and to run the old 
 rascal down, to take his bag from him, and, if 
 its contents proved to be what he expected, to 
 
 pack him off that night to C jail, became 
 
 an imperative necessity. 
 
 The wood being a small one, by the time 
 he had got into it old Thady was already 
 clambering over the fence at the further end, 
 which led, it may be remembered, into the 
 Mount Kennedy churchyard. Lord Ballybrophy 
 followed, tearing his hands badly as he did so
 
 136 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 upon one of his own elaborately contrived 
 defences, and nearly losing his hat and wig, 
 which caught in an overhanging bough. Once 
 in the clearer space he flattered himself that 
 he should have no difficulty in running the 
 culprit to earth. 
 
 To his surprise he found himself mistaken. 
 When he got into the churchyard the moon- 
 light was filling the whole of it, but not a 
 sign of old Thady or of his bag was to be 
 seen. With an activity that astonished himself, 
 and which was probably due to the state of 
 excitement he had been in all the evening, Lord 
 Ballybrophy followed up the search with all the 
 zest of a school-boy. Sword in hand he explored 
 the bushes, the briars, every corner of the en- 
 closed space. His feet got entangled in the 
 grass, which grew long and rank, as its wont 
 is in churchyards ; the few upright stones threw 
 weird and goblin-like shadows upon the ground ; 
 the moonlight was broken and baffling, but still 
 he persevered. He knew that the old rascal 
 must be somewhere close at hand, and with 
 that fact before his mind was resolved not to 
 leave the spot till he had secured him. 
 
 Suddenly he caught sight of him curled like 
 a scared rabbit behind one of the upright stones ! 
 With a whoop of satisfaction, hardly to have
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 137 
 
 been expected from such dignified Jips, he 
 pounced upon him, clutched him by the neck, 
 and dragged him into the open moonlight. 
 
 " Why you old ! You you you " 
 
 Lord Ballybrophy was too much out of breath 
 at the moment to think of any sufficiently 
 scathing terms of abuse, indeed he was not at 
 any time an eloquent nobleman. As for the 
 culprit, he appeared to be struck idiotic from 
 sheer dismay. A scrubby old red wig which 
 had covered his head had fallen awry in the 
 scuffle, and under it his bald poll glistened in 
 the moonlight. He wore an old-fashioned 
 livery coat, which hung in flaps about his 
 thighs ; his breeches were torn ; his knees 
 knocked one against the other ; his wrinkled 
 face was of a dull yellow hue ; his eyes seemed 
 to be half-sunken with apprehension. In short 
 it is impossible to imagine a more ridiculous, 
 and at the same time a more suspicious-looking 
 figure. 
 
 Meanwhile the bag, which was the most 
 important element in the matter, was quietly 
 reposing behind the tombstone, where it had 
 been left by its bearer. Lord Ballybrophy 
 picked it up, still retaining his grasp upon old 
 Thady, and turned to leave the churchyard. 
 His first impulse was to march both culprits
 
 138 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 up to the " Great House." On second thoughts, 
 however, it struck him that it would be better 
 to burden himself only with the live one, leaving 
 the other where it was, and where it could be 
 sent for at any moment. 
 
 The flat-topped slab of another tombstone 
 caught his eye at this juncture, and suggested 
 itself as a suitable place upon which to institute 
 a sort of preliminary examination. If the con- 
 tents of the bag proved, as he felt certain they 
 would prove, to be a hare or a rabbit, in that 
 case he would pack old Thady off that very 
 
 night without further formalities to C jail, 
 
 to await his turn at the next assizes. 
 
 It was not without some sense of derogation 
 that he decided to institute this preliminary 
 examination with his own hands. Still, having 
 achieved the whole affair single-handed so far, 
 he felt a natural pride in bringing it single- 
 handed to a conclusion. Accordingly he picked 
 up the bag, and carried it to the tombstone, 
 retaining his hold upon old Thady, who indeed 
 offered no resistance, but allowed himself to be 
 dragged like a piece of inert matter in the grip 
 of his capturer. Evidently something very 
 hard and solid was at the bottom of the bag ; 
 harder and more solid than Lord Ballybrophy 
 could account for under the circumstances. An
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 139 
 
 indescribable reluctance overtook him as he was 
 about to plunge his hand into it ; instead there- 
 fore of doing so, he simply lifted the weighted 
 end, and tilted it a little forward so as to allow 
 the contents to roll over on to the smooth, flat 
 surface of the tombstone. 
 
 Over they rolled sure enough ; further ; fur- 
 ther still ; over and over certainly something 
 very round and very hard was in that bag ! 
 Something too very very " Why ? What ? 
 What? What?" Lord Ballybrophy's eyes 
 began to start out of their sockets ; his hair to 
 rise up stiff and bristling under his wig ; his 
 blood, first to coagulate, and then to seem to be 
 rushing like a tide of red-hot lava through his 
 veins. The next moment a succession of pierc- 
 ing shrieks startled the card-players at the other 
 end of the park. Pell-mell, out they rushed ; 
 the officers first, the chaplain next, the ladies 
 last, the latter gathering their skirts around 
 them. Once in the deer-park they stared help- 
 lessly here and there, not knowing where to 
 turn, or in what direction to look for the cause 
 of their alarm. They were guided at last to the 
 right place by the apparition of a little old man, 
 leaping, gesticulating, and running wildly to 
 and fro in front of the churchyard. There, flat 
 upon the grass, apparently in a swoon, they found
 
 140 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Lord Ballybrophy. His hat had fallen in one 
 direction, his wig in another, his sword was 
 below him, and immediately above him, upon 
 the smooth flat slab of the tombstone, and look- 
 ing as white and placid in the moonlight as if it 
 had merely formed part of some monumental 
 effigy, lay the head of Eustace Kennedy ! 
 
 How had it got there ? and what under the 
 circumstances was now to be done with it ? were 
 two questions, which the first attentions to the 
 sick man having been paid not a little exer- 
 cised the minds of those who were the witnesses 
 of the foregoing rather remarkable scene. As 
 regards the first question it was easily answered, 
 old Thady O'Roon making no secret of having 
 himself stolen it that very afternoon from the 
 
 spikes of C jail, where the majesty of the 
 
 law had impaled it. " Bedad an' I thought may- 
 be the poor mhaster might slape aisier t'home," 
 seemed to be the only explanation he was cap- 
 able of giving when called upon to account for 
 so startling a piece of larceny. As regards the 
 second question well, in the end the head was 
 allowed to rest peacefully enough not far from 
 where it then lay, with the remainder of the poor 
 clay thereunto appertaining. The truth was, 
 that once the first blush of their zeal was a little 
 abated, the authorities, civil as well as military,
 
 WHAT THE BAG CONTAINED 141 
 
 were not eager to allow too dazzling a blaze of 
 publicity to fall upon all their recent proceed- 
 ings. So successful indeed were they in this 
 administrative modesty, that to this day the 
 foregoing transaction is rarely alluded to, and to 
 the best of my belief is known to but few, and 
 those few chiefly the descendants of the actual 
 partakers in it. 
 
 Lord Ballybrophy, the reader will be glad to 
 hear, recovered in due time from his attack, and 
 lived to a good old age, respected by all who 
 knew him. The Kennedy family soon after- 
 wards quitted Mount Kennedy. The property 
 was let upon a long grazing lease. The house 
 was shut up, and so by degrees fell into that 
 condition of neglect and decay in which we now 
 see it. With regard to old Thady O'Roon, 
 about whom I specially inquired, my friend 
 could give me no further information.
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND FAMINE 
 MEMORIES 
 
 IT has sometimes seemed to me as if every 
 great event, especially if it be of the more 
 tragic order, ought to have some distinctive 
 cairn or monument of its own ; some spot at 
 which one could stand, as before a shrine, there 
 to meditate upon it, and upon it alone. Such 
 a shrine though only in my own eminently 
 private mental chapel the great Irish Famine 
 of 1846-47 possesses, and has possessed for 
 more years than I can now readily reckon. 
 Whenever I think of it there rises before me 
 one particular spot, in one particular corner of 
 Connemara; one particular cluster of cabins, or 
 rather wrecks of cabins, for roofs there have 
 been none since I knew it first. There they 
 stand, those poor perishing memorials, and 
 yearly the nettles spread a little further across 
 their hearthstones, and yearly the slope on 
 
 142
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 143 
 
 which they rest crumbles a little nearer to the 
 sea, and yearly the rain batters them a little 
 more down, and the green things cluster more 
 closely around them, and so it will be till one 
 day the walls too will roll over, and the bog 
 from above will overtake them, and the last 
 trace of what was once a populous village will 
 have disappeared, without so much as a Hie 
 Jacet to say where it stood. 
 
 To get to this very private- chapel you must 
 not mind rough walking, neither must you mind 
 trespassing ; indeed that last is a mere English 
 fetish, to which the freer-hearted Celt has never 
 been a slave. Leaving the village of Leenane 
 it stands, as you are probably aware, upon the 
 south shore of the Greater Killary you keep 
 straight on till you come to a certain white gate 
 on the right hand side of the road. Turn in here 
 you are trespassing already, but never mind, 
 there are no notice boards and you will find 
 yourself upon a grass-grown roadway, with the 
 shining level of the fiord below, and above a 
 steep incline of bog, cutting across the sky ; 
 a sky which may be friendly at the moment, 
 or may be threatening, but which is sure to be 
 a sky alive with clouds ; clouds which are never 
 for a moment at rest ; clouds of every form, 
 and of every degree of transitoriness, but each
 
 i 4 4 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 one of which has its own separate make and 
 semblance, unlike any cloud had we eyes to 
 perceive that difference that ever was or ever 
 will be in any sky again. 
 
 " What I really dislike about the west of Ire- 
 land is its dreadful dampness and darkness ! " 
 says the tourist. Since you say so, oh tourist ! 
 lord of our destiny, our master and our patron 
 why it must be so, and from your decisions 
 there can be no appeal. Otherwise if I dared 
 for an instant to contest so great an authority 
 I should be disposed to say that this par- 
 ticular walk, and I could match it with others, 
 has always stood out before my mind as one 
 of the brightest things I am acquainted with in 
 this not particularly bright world of ours. 
 
 Even to think of it at a distance, and 
 amongst other surroundings, is to think of 
 something so transcendently bright that, in the 
 momentary confusion of the mental picture, it 
 seems though of course quite absurdly as if 
 there were something spiritually, rather than 
 merely corporeally, luminous about that extra- 
 ordinary brightness. 
 
 And yet it is not from the side of the Killary 
 gleaming lane of water though it is that 
 this sense of light comes chiefly. The Killary, 
 like other fiords, is the prisoner of its own
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 145 
 
 mountains. North and south of it, but espe- 
 cially north, they peer continually down upon 
 it, and rarely fail in any gleam to see their 
 own bald pates accurately presented for their 
 inspection. It is on the other side of our road- 
 way, where the mountains stand further back, 
 and where we have the free hillside for our fore- 
 ground, that this sense of light is so strong, and 
 so all-pervading. 
 
 Walking along it one seems to grow fairly 
 intoxicated with light. To look suddenly up- 
 wards is to skate and skim away across a suc- 
 cession of magic mirrors a thing scarce the 
 bravest eyes dare adventure. Every boulder 
 and you may reckon them by tens of thou- 
 sands offers you a separate mirror, a separate 
 opal or diamond-becrusted shield. 
 
 And not after rain only. These jewels are 
 not evanescent ones ; things to dry up and 
 disappear after a shower. On the contrary, 
 they belong to the boulders ; are their own 
 absolute heritage, and family regalia. Mica and 
 talc, schist, and hornblende things jewel-like in 
 effect, if not in value these make up the sum 
 and substance of these masses from the Maam 
 Turk and Bennaboola ranges. 
 
 Do you care to see whence they came ? If 
 so you have only to turn to where the fore-
 
 146 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 ground dips a little. There ! see that single 
 glittering peak, cutting the sky-line like a knife, 
 and naked as an iceberg. That is the " Dia- 
 mond," and for once the English name, if 
 undistinguished enough, is at least reasonably 
 descriptive. It stands above Kylemore lake, 
 and is rather more brilliant than the other 
 mountains, its neighbours, simply because it is 
 rather steeper. 
 
 The natural history of these mountains of 
 Connemara lar Connaught, to give the region 
 its proper title is at first a little puzzling. 
 The readiest way to understand it is to imagine 
 yourself upon the top of one of those mountains 
 opposite Mweelrea will do as well as another, 
 and having done so, to look first seaward, 
 afterwards landward ; to the north, to the east, 
 to the south, and so west again, until by degrees 
 the whole plan and make of the region begins 
 to rise up clear before your mind. 
 
 Your first impression in that case would pro- 
 bably be a very definite one. You would per- 
 ceive the general effect to be as if the sky had 
 recently been dropping lakes upon the land, and 
 the land on its side had been showering rocks 
 upon the sea. Westward, where the two great 
 promontories of Augrus and Slyne Head jut 
 into the sea, vou would perceive, between their
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 147 
 
 outstretched points, to right and to left of 
 them, and far out over the sea, a multitude of 
 island points, dark above, gleaming and glitter- 
 ing where the sun catches upon their wave- 
 washed sides. Some of these islands are gathered 
 into clusters ; others are single, or in scattered 
 groups. There are round islands, long islands, 
 oblong islands; islands of every shape and size, 
 from the tiny illauns and carrigeens, which 
 barely afford a foothold to the passing gull, up 
 to the respectable-sized islands of Inishbofin and 
 Inishturk, which boast their populations of five 
 and six hundred inhabitants ' apiece, and carry 
 on, or until lately did carry on, a considerable 
 traffic in kelp, receiving in return poteen, and 
 such other necessaries of life as are not to be 
 found upon the islands. 
 
 Turning now in imagination from the sea, 
 and looking inland, you perceive the same sort 
 of general effect, only that here the elements are 
 reversed. The sea here has everywhere invaded 
 and taken possession of the land. If you tried 
 to follow one of its glittering arms to its end, 
 when you thought you had seen the last of it, 
 you would find it re-appearing on the other side 
 of some small summit, and winding away in 
 intricate curves and convolutions far as the eye 
 could see. As for the lakes, they are endless,
 
 148 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 bewildering; past all power of man to count or 
 to remember. With all the Celt's talent for 
 bestowing appropriate names upon the objects 
 with which he found himself surrounded, here 
 nature seems to have been too much for him; 
 a large proportion of these lakes having no 
 names at all. Even to know them apart is suffi- 
 ciently perplexing. Lough Inagh and Derry- 
 clare, with their wooded islands ; Ballinahinch, 
 with its castle and its salmon streams ; Kyle- 
 more, with its modern splendours ; Lough Muck 
 and Lough Fee, filling up the gorge which 
 stretches seaward between two steep cliffs ; 
 these, and perhaps a dozen more, we may dis- 
 tinguish readily enough ; but who will under- 
 take to give an account of the endless multitude 
 of loughs and lougheens which stud the whole 
 face of the country between Lough Corrib and 
 the sea? 
 
 Turn now to the lower ground. You might 
 compare it to a looking-glass starred with cracks, 
 the cracks standing for the ground, the inter- 
 mediate spaces for the lakes! Many of these 
 lakes lie far out of every one's reach, and are 
 never seen at all, or only once in a while by 
 some turf-cutter, on his way to a distant bog, 
 or some sportsman taking a fresh cast in hopes 
 of coming upon the pack of grouse which is re-
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 149 
 
 ported to have been seen in this direction. Other 
 lakes again lie high up on the mountain sides, 
 often close to the summit, where they are still 
 less likely to be seen, though any one who will 
 take the trouble of clambering in search of 
 them will find his pains rewarded. Most strik- 
 ing of these are the so-called " corries " bowl- 
 shaped hollows, for the most part cut out of 
 the solid rock. Often a whole series of such 
 corries may be seen lying parallel to one another 
 upon the vertical sides of precipices, some con- 
 taining water, others again dry. When full 
 they are usually partly formed of drift, which 
 accumulating at the mouth of the hollow, 
 hinders the water from escaping. As for their 
 origin, ask a local geologist, and he will tell 
 you that they are due to direct ice action, 
 and chiefly for the following reasons. First, 
 that they differ entirely from hollows made 
 by other agencies ; secondly, that nothing in 
 the least resembling them is now being formed 
 by the sea ; thirdly, that they cannot be due to 
 the ordinary meteoric agents rain, snow, wind, 
 running water, and so forth since those very 
 agents are at present engaged in smoothing them 
 away. Only after this be very careful not to 
 put the same question to any other geologist, 
 since he will most likely supply you with the
 
 150 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 following facts. First, that other agents besides 
 ice are perfectly capable of making similar 
 hollows ; secondly, that the sea is at this very 
 moment engaged in scooping out small coves, 
 which if raised in a general elevation of the 
 land, would in time present a similar appear- 
 ance ; thirdly, that the chief agent must have 
 been not ice, but faults and dislocations in the 
 rock, aided subsequently by glacial or marine 
 action. Then your mind will be disturbed, as 
 mine has been. Where experts differ to such 
 an extent, how, it may be asked, is the mere 
 ignorant inquirer to steer his modest course ? 
 
 But these are high matters. Our walk in 
 life is a different, and a lowlier one. Return- 
 ing for a moment to our roadway, we presently 
 leave it, and pass across a long stretch of bog, 
 up one incline, and down another, over a stream 
 how I hardly know, for the last time I went 
 that way there were no stepping-stones and 
 now we have reached the point for which we 
 set out. We have arrived at our ruined village. 
 We are standing upon the Famine Road. 
 
 Certain words and certain combinations of 
 words seem to need an eminently local education 
 in order adequately to appreciate them. These 
 two words, " Famine road," are amongst the 
 number. To other, larger minds than ours they
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 151 
 
 are probably without any particular meaning 
 or inwardness. To the home-staying Irishman 
 or Irishwoman they mean only too much. To 
 hear them casually uttered is to be penetrated 
 by a sense of something at once familiar and 
 terrible. The entire history of two of the most 
 appalling years that any country has ever been 
 called upon to pass through seems to be summed 
 up, and compendiously packed into them. 
 
 Other mementoes of the famine, besides its 
 roads, exist, of course, in Ireland. As his train 
 lounges through its flat central counties the in- 
 telligent stranger must have more than once 
 observed some erratic-looking obelisk, or other 
 odd development of the art of the builder. If 
 he bestirs himself to inquire what it is, he will 
 be pretty certain to be told that it is a " Famine 
 work," as though bad architecture and empty 
 stomachs had a natural connection ! There are 
 plenty of such abortive " Famine works " scat- 
 tered over the country, but the Famine roads 
 were the official ones ; the ones longest persisted 
 in, and in the vast majority of cases, alas ! they 
 were the most absolutely futile and abortive 
 of all. 
 
 Do not let the word road mislead you though. 
 Road, as is plain to be seen, there is none here, 
 nor has been for a long time back. For some
 
 152 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 years after the Famine, fifteen or sixteen per- 
 haps, for the grass here is not very quick- 
 growing, a road of some sort survived. Nay, 
 I have even been assured that a spirited-minded 
 gentleman once undertook to drive his coach 
 along this part of the edge of the shore, up 
 to the top of the ridge, and so down by the 
 Devil's Gap to Salrock. If he did do so, 
 and survived the entertainment, that divinity 
 that watches over the doings of madmen and 
 drunkards must assuredly have sat upon the 
 coach-box beside him on that occasion. 
 Whether the tale be true or false, it is at 
 least certain that for a few years a road of 
 some sort existed. After that the mountain 
 took it back to its own green bosom, and, save 
 that it survives as a line of exceptional wetness, 
 and that after prolonged rains it reappears in the 
 form of an odd-looking trough or shallow canal, 
 there is no more sign that a road ever ran here 
 than there was when Saint Patrick preached 
 upon Croaghpatrick yonder, or when Saint 
 Fechin paddled past the point of Renvyle to 
 take up his abode upon the sea-scourged rocks 
 of Ard Oilen. 
 
 If the Famine road has disappeared, how- 
 ever, other traces of the famine, or rather of the 
 pre-famine condition of things, are still to be
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 153 
 
 seen. Only if you have eyes to see them 
 though, and if the indications worn almost to 
 invisibility by this time are sufficiently familiar 
 to make themselves felt as you look around you. 
 Turning towards the higher ground you can 
 count a succession of small humps or projections 
 along the top of the ridge. There is one with a 
 gable end still visible to help the reckoning. 
 Fifty years back those projections were all 
 villages, or groups, at any rate, of from three 
 to ten cabins. In those pre-famine days the 
 rural population throughout Ireland was all but 
 incredibly dense. The fact that nearly four 
 hundred thousand one-roomed cabins are stated 
 by the Registrar-General to have disappeared 
 between the census before and after the Famine, 
 is alone sufficiently indicative of the change. 
 Of such one-roomed cabins these villages pro- 
 bably all consisted. They were apparently 
 unconnected with one another, even by a 
 " bohereen," yet this now utterly vacant hill- 
 side must have hummed in those days with 
 life, and been as busy with its comings and 
 goings as any village green. 
 
 Throughout Connemara decent roads were 
 unknown up to the beginning of this century, 
 and even well within that period they were 
 practically non-existent. I can put my hand at
 
 154 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 this moment upon a bundle of letters describing a 
 visit paid to the Martins of Ballinahinch, some- 
 where about the middle of the thirties. From 
 the neighbourhood of Tuam the visitor drove to 
 the ferry beyond Headford ; crossed it in a very 
 leaky boat as in fact you do still found 
 mountain ponies which had been sent by her 
 hosts to meet her upon the other side ; rode up- 
 hill and down-hill across some thirty miles of 
 heathery track, and so down to Ballinahinch to 
 pay her visit. 
 
 Out of this roadless condition it emerged 
 rather suddenly. The roads over which the 
 tourist of to-day travels, and which are excel- 
 lent, were all carried out by one enterprising 
 road-maker not long before the Famine. Out- 
 lying villages such as these naturally lay 
 beyond the reach of such central highways, 
 and had to be left to nature. Imagine how 
 urgently some way of connecting them with one 
 another and with the outside world must have 
 been wished for, how badly they must have 
 been wanted until made. Then the need for 
 such means of communication ceased suddenly, 
 and has never returned. Thus the whole irony 
 of the Famine roads stands revealed in a 
 sentence. 
 
 The mere bald enumeration of the number
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 155 
 
 of lives extinguished in this one county of 
 Galway during those two years of famine is 
 enough to make one ask oneself how any man 
 or woman living there at the time retained his 
 or her sanity. Many did not. The list of 
 those, well above the reach of actual hunger, 
 who broke down, mind and body alike, from 
 mere pressure upon their vital forces, from pity, 
 from a sense of unutterable horror, is greater 
 than would be believed, or than has ever been 
 set down in print. And can anybody reason- 
 ably wonder ? Take the mere official reports ; 
 the report, for instance, of one county inspector 
 in this very district, and you will find him 
 speaking of a hundred and fifty bodies picked 
 up by himself and his assistants along a single 
 stretch of road. Multiply this fiftyfold, and 
 ask yourself what that means ? 
 
 And if upon the roadsides, what of the less 
 easily attainable places ? Think of the thou- 
 sands of solitary cabins and sheilings high on 
 the hillsides ? Think of the little congeries of 
 similar cabins, such as these whose wrecks lie 
 around us here ; of the groups collected round 
 their hearths, so large at first, growing smaller 
 and smaller day by day, until none were left 
 to carry out the dead. Think of the eyes 
 lifted to heaven here upon these very slopes
 
 156 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 on which we are to-day indolently strolling. 
 Think of the separate hell gone through by 
 each individual father and mother of all that 
 starving multitude. And when all hope was 
 over, when the bitter draught was almost drunk, 
 the end had almost come, that end which must 
 have been so welcome, because there were none 
 left to live for, think of the lying down to 
 watch the vanishing away of this familiar green 
 landscape in the last grey mists of death. 
 
 Unhappily we are not driven to piece out 
 such scenes from the shallows of our own moral 
 consciousness, and fifty years after the event. 
 Would that we were ! The most matter-of-fact, 
 the most coldly official reports of the time read 
 like the imaginings of some brain-sick poet; to 
 turn over the leaves of your Hansard is like 
 dropping upon the pool of Malebolge. In a 
 speech in the House of Commons Mr. Hors- 
 man not, I take it, an imaginative orator 
 speaks, for instance, of the condition of Ireland 
 as follows : " It is like a country devastated by 
 an enemy ; like a country which the destroying 
 angel has swept over. . . . The population 
 struck down, the air a pestilence, the fields a 
 solitude, the chapels deserted, the priest and the 
 pauper famishing together; no inquests; no 
 rites ; no record even of the dead ; the high-road
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 157 
 
 a charnel-house ; the land a chaos ; a ruined pro- 
 prietary, a panic-struck tenantry, the soil un- 
 tilled, the workhouse a pest. Death, desolation, 
 despair reigning throughout the land." l 
 
 Although there had been warnings in abund- 
 ance, yet the suddenness with which the blow 
 finally fell seems to have reduced people and 
 rulers alike to apathy. Every account agrees 
 as to this suddenness. Old people to this 
 day speak of it as of a very thunder-clap of 
 destiny. Again and again I have had described 
 to me the evening of the great Blight. How 
 warm the preceding months had been. How 
 promising the potato crop had appeared. For 
 years it had been dwindling, but this year all 
 the old abundance seemed to have returned. 
 Every face smiled ; last year's scarcity and 
 partial famine was forgotten ; the little children 
 gathered bunches of the detestable violet-and- 
 white flowers, and ran laughing along the roads 
 with them. Suddenly something happened. 
 There came a day of steaming mist, and that 
 evening a scent of decay was perceptible all 
 over the country. And next morning when 
 the people rose up the Plague was over the 
 land. North, south, east, and west especially 
 west a cry went up that the potatoes had 
 1 Hansard, 3rd series, vol. iv. p. 609.
 
 158 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 rotted. Eight millions of people say six, 
 say five, so as to include only those abso- 
 lutely dependent upon that miserable tuber 
 and nothing but rotting abominations, un- 
 fit for pigs, between them and a cruel 
 death. 
 
 Here was the situation, and how was it 
 met ? We had better not ask, seeing that the 
 answer to that question brings us face to face 
 with about as lamentable an example of the art 
 of blundering as any that the records of our 
 poor blunder-ridden race can afford. How far 
 the Government misfortunate abstraction ! 
 did or did not realize the extent of the disaster, 
 is a point which may be disputed till the crack 
 of doom. That it did not act as if it had 
 realized it, and that the earlier steps which it 
 took to mitigate it were about as ineffective as 
 could have been devised, few have ever been 
 brave enough to deny. That the blame must 
 be shared amongst other impersonal potentates 
 Circumstance, Environment, Fate, and so 
 forth is true. Still, when we have admitted 
 this, what then ? Even that colder-blooded 
 type of philosopher who is disposed to regard 
 a disaster of the kind as a natural, if lamentable, 
 remedy for an otherwise incurable disease, will 
 surely admit that to save life is for any civil-
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 159 
 
 ized government the first and most elementary 
 of all its duties ? 
 
 This, however, it is about time to remember, 
 is a volume of tales, and not a political sermon. 
 Turning over that wallet of odds and ends 
 which all tale-tellers are supposed, consciously 
 or unconsciously, to carry about with them, I 
 find nothing that seems to me at all likely to 
 serve as even the tiniest pebble of a contribution 
 to this tremendous national cairn. One story 
 indeed comes back to my memory, but it has 
 the double defect of not belonging to the actual 
 time, and of being laid within the limits of a 
 class upon which the effect of the Famine was 
 indirect rather than direct. Such as it is, how- 
 ever, and for lack of better, it must serve. 
 There are themes, moreover, before which even 
 the studied audacity of the story-teller shrinks 
 back, and would as soon not be called upon 
 to encounter. In itself the story in question 
 seemed to me, at least when I heard it, to be 
 worth recording. The situation is surely an 
 odd one; indeed, under any circumstances less 
 destructive of all the ordinary conventions of 
 existence, might fairly have been pronounced 
 impossible. Here, as will presently be seen, 
 was a young girl ; well born, beautiful ; brought 
 up in all the easy-going luxury of a large
 
 160 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 country-house ; reduced nevertheless to a state of 
 destitution as complete as that of any nameless 
 waif or stray in one of our cities ; dependent for 
 her daily bread upon the charity of a couple of 
 old servants; without a friend to inquire after 
 her, or a soul to take the smallest interest in 
 her future. So completely had she been aban- 
 doned by every one, that her choice, as my 
 informant assured me, lay literally between 
 accepting the hand of a man who was not her 
 equal in any sense of the word, and who, more- 
 over, had only his own thews and sinews to 
 depend upon, or the workhouse. 
 
 If the reader cares to know how this story 
 of Eleanor d'Arcy and her two lovers came 
 to be told to me, that is a very simple matter. 
 I was staying a few years ago in a country- 
 house, not in the west of Ireland, but in its 
 more prosaic midlands. By some accident we 
 got talking one evening after dinner about the 
 Famine, and first one person and then another 
 related some circumstance connected with it, 
 which report, or some fragment of family tradi- 
 tion, had chanced to bring within their memory. 
 Since none of our memories extended to the 
 actual time, there was, however, a perceptible 
 flavour of vagueness about these impressions, 
 and it was perhaps from a realization of this
 
 FAMINE ROADS AND MEMORIES 161 
 
 fact that our talk by and by drifted to more 
 contemporary matters, and the great Irish 
 Famine was for the time forgotten. 
 
 Later in the evening an old gentleman 
 not an Irishman ; a rich man, and usually held 
 to be a somewhat crabbed one crossed the 
 room, and took a chair not far from where I 
 was sitting. We were rather friends, as one 
 counts friendships with people whom one only 
 meets in other people's houses, and upon this 
 occasion he seemed more disposed to be con- 
 fidential than usual. He had not said anything 
 during the recent discussion, and we now talked 
 on for some time about things in general. Sud- 
 denly he interrupted me in the middle of a 
 sentence. 
 
 " You were talking a while ago about the 
 Irish Famine," he said abruptly. " I was in 
 Ireland myself at the time, at least soon after- 
 wards, in 1848. I did not care to talk about 
 it just now, but if you would like to hear what 
 I saw and did, you are welcome. It is an old 
 story, and I don't suppose any one, except 
 myself, remembers a single word about it. Stop 
 me, by the way, if I grow tedious. It's the 
 fashion of us old fellows, you know, when we 
 get talking about the past." 
 
 Naturally I expressed a lively desire to hear 
 
 M
 
 1 62 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 what he had to tell me, and further suggested 
 that as the rest of the party seemed to have 
 drifted away, out of doors, or it was not very 
 clear where, he and I might without incivility 
 betake ourselves to a certain inner room, which 
 I had before marked as a desirable refuge, and 
 where we should be certain not to be disturbed. 
 To this he agreed, and we settled ourselves 
 in a couple of arm-chairs, telling the servants 
 that we would be responsible for the lamps, 
 and that no one was to disturb us. These 
 arrangements made, I folded my hands in my 
 lap, and prepared to listen.
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 
 
 Oh, never let one leal on thee be grown ! 
 All brown, all naked let thy fields be shown, 
 Where they, thy children, sleep beneath the sky ; 
 So thick, dear God, how thick their fresh graves lie ! 
 They were thy children, and they loved thee well, 
 Thou wert their mother, and a fiend of hell. 
 Be barren henceforth ! Let not one leaf show, 
 To mock that hapless dust so late laid low. 
 
 I 
 
 WE sat for some time silently, each of us in 
 our respective arm-chair. My old gentleman 
 did not seem to be in any hurry to begin his 
 story. On the contrary he appeared to have 
 lapsed into a contemplative mood, and to have 
 practically forgotten my existence. At last he 
 looked up, and caught my eye. 
 
 " I have been thinking,'* he said, smiling at 
 the look of impatience which I managed to throw 
 into it, " how odd it is, the way in which some 
 
 163
 
 164 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 impressions seem always to remain extraordinarily 
 fresh and vivid, while others, which ought, one 
 would think, to be much more permanent, fade 
 away entirely, and disappear. I suppose I have 
 seen and done as much as my neighbours, and 
 yet if you were to ask me to give you the 
 details of any of the more important events of 
 my life, I doubt if I could remember a single 
 one of them. Whereas this incident, which I 
 am going to tell you about, and which, as far 
 as I am concerned, had no permanent effects 
 whatever, has always remained just as vivid as 
 it was at the first. Especially when I find 
 myself in Ireland, it seems as if it must all have 
 happened only yesterday, and I can hardly per- 
 suade myself that nearly fifty years have passed 
 since then. It seems as if I were still at Castle 
 
 d'Arcy, and still looking out at the But 
 
 stop ! this won't do. That is not the right 
 way to begin. I had better go back, and tell 
 you the whole story from the start, or I shall 
 never get it straight. 
 
 " My reasons for going to Ireland, I must 
 begin by explaining, were not a bit philan- 
 thropical, still less political ; they were entirely 
 practical and financial. I had lately joined the 
 firm to which I still belong, and my partners and 
 myself had a large sum of money that had to be
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 165 
 
 invested in land, and at that time there was an 
 enormous quantity of Irish land to be had at 
 excessively low prices, having been forced into 
 the market by the orders of the Encumbered 
 Estates court. It having been decided that the 
 sum in question should be invested in Irish 
 land, the only question that remained was what 
 land we were to select for the purpose. I was 
 the youngest of the firm, and the other two 
 insisted therefore that I should go to Ireland 
 to explore. One of the properties offered to 
 us was in the County Galway, in a very re- 
 mote corner of it, upon the shores of Cashla 
 Bay. It looked an enormous territory upon 
 paper, running out into the sea, and back 
 to the foot of the mountains. Its owner, 
 Mr. d'Arcy, had recently died, and the 
 creditors, who were endeavouring to sell the 
 estate, had offered it to us on extraordinarily 
 low terms. Somehow from the first I had 
 not relished the errand. I knew nothing of 
 Ireland. As for Cashla Bay it might have 
 been in Kamscatka for anything I knew to the 
 contrary. Still I knew what every one else 
 
 knew ; what the newspapers had told us, and 
 
 In short, I did not fancy the errand. I could 
 not well refuse, however, and neither of my 
 partners showed any inclination to go in my
 
 1 66 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 stead, so in the end I went. It had been 
 arranged that I was to sleep at the house 
 belonging to the property, there being, we 
 were told, no inns in the district ; but beyond 
 this fact I knew nothing as to what I might 
 expect to find upon my arrival. 
 
 "Well, I started. There is no need to 
 describe my journey. It took longer than it 
 would do to-day, but it had already been a 
 good deal shortened. A railway had recently 
 been opened to Galway, and some twenty-two 
 hours from the time of my leaving London I 
 stood upon the platform of that town, and 
 looked round for some conveyance to carry 
 me whatever distance still remained to be 
 traversed. 
 
 " There was no lack of them, such as they 
 were. A dozen patched cars, chiefly held to- 
 gether apparently by pieces of string, stood 
 there, and at least three dozen carmen were 
 leaning across a wooden bar ; shouting, shoving 
 one another, and waving arms out of tatter- 
 demalion coat-sleeves. I picked out the best 
 vehicle I could see, a fairly whole one, drawn 
 by a shaggy old brown mare, and driven by a 
 decent-looking old fellow with a mop of lint- 
 white hair falling on his neck, and having ascer- 
 tained that he knew where Castle d'Arcy was,
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 167 
 
 I got upon the car, and we proceeded upon 
 our way. 
 
 " The famine was supposed to be over 
 by this time, but it had left traces enough ! 
 Such scarecrows, such moving skeletons, such 
 pitiable-looking ghosts of humanity as I passed 
 on that drive through Galway ! I am no 
 sentimentalist, and never was, even when I 
 was young, yet there are certain recollections 
 connected with that drive, and with one or 
 two others that I took during my stay that 
 year in Ireland, which I would gladly have got 
 rid of at the cost of a good round sum of 
 money. However, you can imagine the details, 
 and I need not therefore dwell upon them. We 
 got out of Galway at last, and drove on along 
 the coast at a monotonous jig-jog pace ; the car 
 rattling over the stones, and the broken harness 
 threatening at every step to give way. Being 
 my first experience of car-driving, I clung for 
 dear life, I remember, to a strap ; my old driver 
 meanwhile making queer chirruping noises to 
 his horse, and now and then nodding gloomily 
 to one or other of the passers-by. 
 
 " The distance that we drove seemed to me 
 at the time tremendous, far greater than I 
 had had any expectation of when 1 started. 
 Most of it lay through an utterly barren
 
 i68 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 region, at which I, being new to the country, 
 stared aghast, wondering how any one out of 
 Bedlam could possibly propose to invest money 
 in such a God-forsaken place. Suddenly my 
 old Jehu, who had for some time been peering 
 at me inquisitively across the well, turned, and 
 speaking in that sing-song, western voice, which 
 I that day heard for the first time, but which 
 was soon to grow very familiar to my ear 
 
 " * Will it be a friend of the great d'Arcy 
 family your 'anner is, then ? ' 
 
 " I hesitated for a moment before answering. 
 Would he upset me into the ditch, I wondered, 
 if I told him the truth ? Since it could not 
 long be concealed, and since, man for man, I 
 was certainly more than his match, I ventured 
 to take the risk. 
 
 " ' No,' I replied, ' I don't know any of the 
 d'Arcy family. I was not aware in fact that 
 any of them were left. I have come over to 
 look at the land, which is about to be sold.' 
 
 " My old driver turned from me as though 
 I had been a leper, and our journey was 
 continued in absolute silence. 
 
 " The stoniness of that country I shall never 
 forget to my dying day. It was not the amount 
 of solid rock that surprised me so much as the 
 amount of loose pieces flung about broadcast,
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 169 
 
 as if recently fallen from the sky. Mortarless 
 walls covered the grass like an iron network, 
 and in some cases heaps of stones had been 
 gathered together in the corners of the fields, 
 but, despite these efforts to dispose of them, 
 the stones defied collection, and lay about in 
 all directions. You know the sort of thing, 
 and can therefore easily imagine it, but to me 
 it was all perfectly new. 
 
 " At last, after driving some fourteen or 
 fifteen miles, we came to an entrance gate, which 
 stood wide open, and, passing through it, 
 entered upon a narrow road, arched over with 
 elms and sycamores, and through a second gate 
 which led us presently into a wide sweep of 
 park. 
 
 " The trees in this park, though wind- 
 blown, were larger and better grown than I 
 should have deemed possible, so that my eyes, 
 sick with the nakedness of the land through 
 which we had been passing, felt quite gladdened 
 by the aspect of at any rate former care and 
 cultivation which I saw around me. For 
 some time no dwelling-house came into sight. 
 The only habitation that I could see being a 
 sinister-looking old castle, evidently a ruin, 
 which stood upon the end of a jutting point. 
 Presently I espied another building near the
 
 i;o TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 shore, not exactly a ruin, but nearly as dilapi- 
 dated as one. This was a queer little round 
 tower, perched upon the top of a hillock, 
 having in front of it a narrow spit of grey 
 rock, running out into the sea, and a flight of 
 steps which led up to a revolving weather-cock 
 which decorated its top. There was something 
 so whimsical-looking about the whole edifice 
 that I could not resist turning once more to 
 my driver, and asking him what it was. 
 
 " The old fellow started, as if I had roused him 
 from his sleep. Then he stared at the object in 
 question, shading his eyes with his hand, so as to 
 see it better. 
 
 " * 'Tis indade ; 'tis indade ; Miss Ann's tay- 
 house! poor Miss Ann's tayhouse; yis indade, 
 my God, yis indade,' he muttered, rather to 
 himself than as if in answer to my question. 
 
 " ' And who is Miss Ann ? ' asked I. 
 
 " He turned, and stared at me. * Thar's no 
 Miss Ann in it new at all, at all,' he replied 
 contemptuously. 
 
 " Why not ? ' I asked. Then as he did 
 not answer, l Is she dead ? ' I said. 
 
 u ' Trath she is dead ' in a tone of the most 
 withering contempt. ' What else would she be 
 but dead ? 'Dade, an' 'tis them that never 
 ought to have died that has died these times.
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 171 
 
 And 'tis only them that nobody wants that 
 seems to be kep' alive,' he added in the same 
 tone. 
 
 " The glance with which this last remark was 
 accompanied gave it such an unmistakably 
 personal application, that I made no more 
 attempts at conversation until we reached the 
 house. 
 
 "We came upon it in the end quite suddenly. 
 The avenue took a sharp turn to the right, and 
 in a minute we had stopped before the hall door. 
 Like most houses in this part of Ireland it was 
 built of limestone, of a rather dull grey hue. 
 Black stains ran from the corners of most of 
 the windows, giving it an additional aspect of 
 neglect. The sashes of the windows were 
 closed, and the blinds drawn down. Altogether 
 appearances were not encouraging. 
 
 "The jangling sound of the bell pulled by 
 my driver woke up the echoes ; then they died 
 away, and silence once more set in. It was so 
 still that I remember I could hear the waves 
 breaking upon the beach below, and running 
 back with a long sound of scraping sands and 
 gravel. 
 
 "The old mare stood still, and steamed 
 patiently. I took down my portmanteau from 
 the car and waited, wondering what was going
 
 172 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 to happen to me next. It seemed an age before 
 at last the sound of steps were heard approach- 
 ing, apparently from a considerable distance. 
 Then followed a creaking of locks, the door 
 opened widely, and a tall, old serving-man with 
 a white head and stooping shoulders stood in 
 the aperture. He wore what seemed to have 
 been at one time a suit of decent livery, but 
 was now patched and stained, and over one 
 shoulder hung a frieze coat, which, big as he 
 was, was evidently several sizes too big for 
 him. 
 
 "Astonishment appeared to be his prevailing 
 expression. He looked at the car, and at 
 myself, and at the driver, as if we had all fallen 
 out of the moon. A word in Irish, however, 
 from the latter enlightened him. What that 
 word was I do not of course know, but never 
 on any human face did I see such a sudden 
 change of expression. A look of hatred seemed 
 all at once to blaze up in the old fellow's 
 shrivelled face as he turned it towards me. If 
 a glance could have killed me I should cer- 
 tainly have fallen dead there and then upon the 
 doorstep. His first impulse seemed to be to 
 turn, and shut that door in my face. On 
 second thoughts he refrained from doing this, 
 but stood there, scowling darkly, while the
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 173 
 
 driver and I between us carried my very 
 moderate supply of luggage into the front hall. 
 This done, and the car paid, and dismissed, I 
 stood face to face with the situation. 
 
 " Evidently no offers of hospitality were to be 
 looked for, and there was nothing for it there- 
 fore but to take the matter into my own hands. 
 
 " ' Show me to a bedroom, my good man,' I 
 said, at the same time holding out a bag for 
 him to carry. 
 
 " ' A bedroom ? Ter an agus ! will nothin' less 
 than that serve thim now ! A bedroom, wisha ! 
 My God ! a bedroom ! ' was all the reply I got. 
 
 "Plainly the situation was one that had to be 
 met with vigour. 
 
 " 4 Look here, my man,' I said firmly, ' I 
 have come here upon business. Here I am, 
 and here I intend to stop. Remember, too, that 
 if I have to report any insolence upon your 
 part it will be the worse for you. Now show 
 me a room.' 
 
 " That I had taken the right course to ensure 
 respect was plain. The old fellow eyed me for 
 a moment with the glare of an enfeebled wolf ; 
 then a change passed over his face, and a peculiar 
 look, half-contemptuous, half-deprecating, came 
 into it. Opening a door which stood near, he 
 begged me to * step widin a minute till he'd
 
 174 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 spake wi' the mistress.' And ushering me into 
 a room, he departed again, before I had time to 
 reply. 
 
 "The room in which I found myself was a 
 large, and rather handsome dining-room hand- 
 some, that is, as far as its proportions were con- 
 cerned, but almost entirely empty of furniture. 
 In "the centre stood a long table, upon which 
 only a single plate, knife, and fork were laid out, 
 although, as I immediately noticed, enough chairs 
 were drawn up to the table for a party of four 
 or five. 
 
 " It was by this time six o'clock, which at that 
 date was, for all but ultra-fashionables, the 
 ordinary dinner-hour. I was hungry, for I had 
 tasted nothing since breakfast, with the excep- 
 tion of a very unappetizing sandwich which I 
 got at Mullingar. At the moment I felt too 
 uneasy however to think about food. Who 
 could the old fellow mean by * the mistress ' ? 
 I asked myself. Surely I had been told in 
 London that all the members of the late 
 owner's family were either dead, or had gone 
 away. Who was she then, this mistress ? and 
 what sort of reception was I likely under the 
 circumstances to find at her hands ? 
 
 " I turned towards the window with a vague 
 thought of escape. The gravel sweep outside
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 175 
 
 had grown hollow, and a large pool of water 
 had collected in the centre of it. The stillness 
 was intense. It was more like that of a vault 
 than of a house, and again a strong wish to 
 escape came over me. But where the deuce 
 was I to escape to ? I could not well leap 
 out of the window, leaving my bag and other 
 possessions behind me ! Besides, if I did, there 
 was probably no car now to be had for Galway. 
 No, I must stay, I decided, and face the situation 
 out. 
 
 " Suddenly the door behind me opened. What 
 sort of figure I was expecting to see I hardly 
 know, but certainly nothing like the one that 
 did come in. It was that of a young girl, 
 eighteen years old at most, dressed in deep 
 black. She came straight over towards the table, 
 her head bent, her hands clasped, her eyes widely 
 open. Suddenly she caught sight of me, and 
 started violently, turning as she did so, as if 
 inquiringly, to an old woman who followed 
 close at her heels, a wrinkled old creature, a 
 peasant apparently, or very humble retainer. 
 
 " I stood transfixed. The girl was simply the 
 most beautiful creature I had ever seen in my 
 life ! Her face was very pale; the delicately- 
 cut mouth was half-open, and wore a piteously 
 beseeching expression such as one sometimes sees
 
 1 76 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 in a child. Her eyes were grey, and of an 
 extraordinary limpidity, a limpidity that even 
 at the first glance struck me as something abso- 
 lutely new, something wholly foreign to my 
 experience, and which even at this distance of 
 time haunts my memory vividly. 
 
 " The look of astonishment which had come 
 into her face on first catching sight of me 
 remained on it, but after a moment's hesita- 
 tion she bowed with a gentle, self-possessed 
 air, the air of one to whom courtesy and hospi- 
 tality come as an instinct. 
 
 " I returned her bow, very awkwardly I have 
 no doubt, and, after another moment's hesitation, 
 she seated herself in one of the chairs arranged 
 round the table, not the one at the top of it, but 
 next to the top, and a little to one side. 
 
 " ' Put a plate, and knife, and fork for the 
 gentleman, if you please, Nora,' she said in a 
 gentle, rather sing-song voice to the old woman. 
 4 Will you sit down here, please,' this to me 
 ' they will not be long, but we have not many 
 servants now.' This was said with a depre- 
 cating look out of those wonderful eyes of 
 hers. 
 
 " I hesitated, abashed and conscience-stricken. 
 Then, after a minute's hesitation, from sheer 
 awkwardness, and from not knowing at what
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 177 
 
 point to begin my explanation, I took the 
 chair offered, which was opposite to her own, 
 and seated myself at the table. At the same 
 moment the door opened again, and the old 
 man-servant entered breathlessly. Had I been 
 in the humour to laugh I must have done 
 so at the air of mingled horror, disgust, and 
 fury with which he perceived me, sitting, actu- 
 ally sitting at table with his mistress. He 
 began some involved explanation as to who 
 and what I was, an explanation rendered still 
 more incoherent by his fury, when he was 
 seized, and all but hustled out of the room 
 by the old woman, who literally stopped his 
 mouth with a napkin which she carried in her 
 hands. 
 
 "She spoke English, so that I was able to 
 catch a word or two while she was in the act of 
 shoving him out before her. 
 
 " l Arrah, can't you lave her in paace, you 
 gomoral ! Whist wid your tongue ' a fresh 
 sputter of angry explanations from the old man, 
 and another * Whist, I tell you, whist ! Lave 
 
 Miss Elly alone, or I'll- * and they were 
 
 gone. 
 
 " We were thus left tete-a-tete. I longed to 
 speak to my companion, to apologize to her for 
 my intrusion, but there was something about the
 
 178 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 expression of her eyes, at once timid and appeal- 
 ing, that daunted me. I felt literally afraid of 
 saying something that would cause them to look 
 at me with a less friendly expression. 
 
 " The result of my hesitation was that she was 
 the first to speak. 
 
 " * You have come from the workhouse, have 
 you not ? ' she said, in the same gentle, courteous 
 tone as before, looking across the table at me 
 as she spoke. 
 
 " I was not put more at my ease by this 
 inquiry ! The workhouse ? Did she think 
 I looked as if I had come out of a workhouse ? 
 and was she in the habit of receiving people 
 out of the workhouse to dinner ? I was too 
 confused to do more than stammer out a denial 
 of the imputation. 
 
 " She looked a little surprised. * Most people 
 who come here go first to the workhouse,' she 
 said. * It is at Killtoomey you know, upon the 
 hill there. It is very full still I am told, but 
 not quite so full as it was last year. My father 
 
 went there every day until until ' She 
 
 looked suddenly towards the foot of the table 
 with an expression of perplexity ; her face began 
 to quiver ; her eyes to fill. I thought that she 
 was going to cry, but after a minute's pause 
 she rallied, and went on steadily.
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 179 
 
 " ' I have never been allowed to go there 
 myself because of the fever, but my sisters 
 This time she stopped outright, and it was with 
 a look of something like terror that she glanced 
 first to one side of the table, and then to the 
 other, a look not so much of grief as of a sort 
 of curious disbelief ; the look of a person who 
 knows, and yet who will not know ; who 
 cannot resolve to convince herself by actual 
 evidence that what she fears even to think of is 
 a fact. 
 
 " I was so terrified by this expression of hers, 
 and so expectant of some sudden breakdown on 
 her part, that it was with a feeling of extreme 
 relief that I heard the footsteps of the two 
 old creatures coming in again. They clattered 
 forward, carrying dishes a large handsomely 
 embossed silver one I noticed, amongst others 
 and set them down helter-skelter upon the table, 
 putting knives and forks, one here and one 
 there, for no reason in particular. 
 
 "What the food we ate was I have not a 
 notion. There was a piece of fish, some vege- 
 tables, and once I found myself eating some- 
 thing that tasted like porridge. My thoughts, 
 as you will conceive, were entirely absorbed in 
 my neighbour. That sudden expression of grief, 
 almost of panic, which had swept over her face
 
 i8o TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 was terrible to see, yet the look of repression, 
 and patient endurance which presently replaced 
 it, was almost worse. Although wholly innocent, 
 of course, of having had any share in producing 
 her troubles, I felt for the moment as if I 
 had been guilty of them all. My sensations 
 were dreadful. How was I, I asked myself, to 
 break through this odious knot of circumstances 
 in which I found myself bound ? Other ques- 
 tions too poured across my mind. How did 
 she come to be stranded there ? the last survivor 
 apparently of an entire family ? Did those 
 empty chairs really represent that father and 
 those sisters of whom she had spoken, and was 
 it possible that they were all dead ? Had this 
 hideous famine swept them all away, as it had 
 swept away hundreds of thousands of humbler 
 victims ? 
 
 " Glancing at her from time to time across 
 the table, I was struck with the strangely fixed 
 expression of those wonderful eyes of hers. It 
 was a look that haunted me ; which has haunted 
 me ever since. Could there be anything in it 
 not indeed of insanity, that I did not believe for 
 a moment but of imperfect comprehension, a 
 partial paralysis of the mind, and was that the 
 explanation of her curiously passive demeanour, 
 as well as of the behaviour of the two old
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 181 
 
 servants ? Her eyes were so widely open that 
 in any eyes less perfect one would have called 
 it staring. It seemed to me as if everything 
 about us the big dreary room ; the naked 
 wilderness of table-cloth ; the grey pool in the 
 gravel outside all were reflected in their depths. 
 It was a terrible look to see, especially on the 
 face of one so young. It was as though so 
 much that was heartrending and confusing had 
 passed before her eyes that they could never 
 become natural again ; could never lose that 
 expression of vacant misery ; could never cease 
 to see something I did not know what that 
 haunted them. 
 
 "You must forgive me," my old gentleman 
 here interrupted himself to say, " if I dwell too 
 long upon this part of my narrative, but the 
 fact is, I suppose I find a dismal pleasure in 
 doing so, and that it is the temptation of 
 talking it all over again after the lapse of so 
 many years that has led me into the egotism 
 of telling you my story at all. Those eyes of 
 Eleanor d'Arcy have never quite passed out of 
 my life ; I can see them to-day, just as clearly 
 as I saw them forty-seven years ago. You 
 smile you think the explanation an easy one. 
 I fell in love with her, you say, and hence this 
 vividness of recollection. In a sense you are
 
 182 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 right. I did fall in love with her, though I 
 don't think I fell in love with her then, at that 
 first moment. In short, I will own that it was 
 largely stimulated by the fact of finding that 
 there was a rival before me in the field, a fact 
 of which I was not left in ignorance longer 
 than the very next morning. 
 
 " I was up early, and had been going over the 
 instructions drawn out for my guidance, none 
 of which included any hint as to how I was 
 to deal with the family of the late unfortun- 
 ate proprietor. I was standing before the fire, 
 pondering rather gloomily over the matter, when 
 the old woman, whose name I had found to be 
 Nora O'Connor, opened the door, with an air 
 of stealth peculiar to herself, paddled across the 
 floor, and, coming close up to me, informed 
 me in a whisper that his honour Mr. Henry 
 O'Hara was beyont, and would I spake wid 
 him for a minute ? 
 
 " * And who the ' I began ; then checked 
 
 myself. * Who is Mr. Henry O'Hara?' I 
 asked impatiently. 
 
 " ' Auch, doesn't yer 'anner know who Mr. 
 Henry O'Hara is ? O my God ! ' 
 
 " The idea of such ignorance seemed to para- 
 lyze her remaining faculties, for she stood still, 
 gasping and staring.
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 183 
 
 " ' No, I don't,' I answered. * However, 
 show him in, whoever he is.' 
 
 " The order was unnecessary, for, getting 
 tired, I suppose, of waiting in the porch 
 until his envoy returned, the visitor at this 
 moment tapped at the door, and, without 
 waiting for an answer, walked in. 
 
 " He was a very tall young man of about my 
 own age, immensely broad in the chest, yet 
 with an air of great activity. Perhaps the 
 most striking feature at first sight was the 
 excessive redness of his hair, which, as he took 
 off his hat at the door, literally seemed to 
 blaze, and which rose in a fiery crest at the 
 top of his head. Red-haired men are, in my 
 experience, usually ugly ones, but this man was 
 certainly an exception to that rule. His com- 
 plexion was clear, and he wore, what was still 
 somewhat unusual, a moustache, one which was 
 several degrees darker than his hair. His eyes 
 were light, blue or grey, I am not sure which, 
 but large, and capable, as I soon found, 
 of emitting a sufficiently fierce light when 
 their owner chose. He was dressed in a cut- 
 away coat, with ill-made top boots, and carried 
 a large riding-whip with a gilt knob in his 
 hand. Take him altogether, he was a remark- 
 ably good-looking young man, but he was not
 
 1 84 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 or so I rapidly decided what is commonly 
 known as a gentleman. 
 
 " * Good-morning to you, sor. I took the 
 liberty of stepping within, me good friend there 
 being sometimes a little tedious in her move- 
 ments,' he began, with a strong, but not dis- 
 agreeable brogue, scanning me at the same time 
 with what I felt to be a decidedly scrutinizing 
 glance. 
 
 " ' My little place that is to say, me brother's 
 little place is only three miles off up the hill 
 yonder, so I call most days to inquire after Miss 
 Eleanor d'Arcy. I am sorry to hear from old 
 Nora that ' 
 
 " He stopped suddenly, and again looked at me 
 with the same scrutinizing expression as before, 
 one which I instinctively found myself resenting. 
 
 " * I have not had the pleasure of seeing Miss 
 d'Arcy this morning,' I said very stiffly. An 
 antagonism against this man, a latent rivalry, 
 had begun to rise in my breast almost before 
 he had opened his mouth. 
 
 " Whether the feeling was reciprocated on his 
 part, or whether there was anything supercilious 
 in my tone which annoyed him, I cannot say, 
 but a fighting look came into his face, one 
 which seemed to be .'carried right up to his 
 crest of fiery-coloured hair. Irishmen are often
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 185 
 
 accused of beating about the bush, but I am 
 bound to say that this particular Irishman lost 
 no time in coming to the point. 
 
 *' 4 Then, I think, this being the beginning 
 of our acquaintance, 'tis as well, sor, you should 
 
 know ' Here he fixed his eyes upon me 
 
 with an expression which, if not exactly menac- 
 ing, was evidently prepared to become so at a 
 moment's notice. * As well you should know 
 that I come here as a suitor ' he pronounced 
 the word as if there were several h's in it 
 ' a suitor for that young lady's hand.' 
 
 " I jumped up from my chair, and stood star- 
 ing at him in astonishment from the hearthrug. 
 
 " ' Yes, sor, as a suitor,' he repeated, aspirating 
 the word this time as if there were at least six 
 lis in it. 
 
 " Whether he felt that the announcement 
 required some additional self-assertion, or 
 whether from the beginning he had intended 
 to assume a bellicose attitude, I do not know, 
 but he squared his shoulders till they looked 
 twice as broad as before, threw up his chin in 
 the air, drew in his breath audibly, and stood 
 staring at me across the room. * That is my 
 intention, sor ! My intention is to marry Miss 
 Eleanor d'Arcy, and I'd as lief you and every 
 one else knew it,' he repeated.
 
 1 86 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 " I stood staring at him. I had no right, of 
 course, to object ; I had nothing to say to the 
 matter, yet I felt perfectly furious, and outraged, 
 at the bare suggestion. Marry her ! this big, 
 underbred, red-headed squireen ! this local Apollo 
 in a cut-away coat ! marry that lovely crea- 
 ture! that vision of delicacy and refinement ! 
 It was no business of mine, of course, but I 
 then and there mentally damned his impudence. 
 
 " The announcement seemed to relieve my 
 visitor of any momentary awkwardness which 
 the situation might have inspired, for it was in 
 a comparatively placable and conversational tone 
 that he next began to speak. 
 
 " ' That being the case you'll easily see, me 
 dear sor putting yourself I mean in my place 
 you'll easily see that the sooner the matter's 
 settled and over the better. Is it fit I ask 
 you as a gentleman is it fit that a lady like 
 her a d'Arcy of Castle d'Arcy, the finest blood 
 in the county Galway, or any other should 
 stop on in this house, and it sold over her head 
 to black strangers out of England ? Is it fit 
 that she a lady bred and born if ever there was 
 one should be affronted by such a state of 
 things as that ? ' 
 
 " By this time I had begun to realize that my 
 first sensations were slightly irrational, consider-
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 187 
 
 ing that I had never seen or heard of Miss Eleanor 
 d'Arcy till the preceding evening. I detested 
 the man cordially, and would gladly have kicked 
 him down-stairs, had that been possible. As I 
 evidently could not do so however, at any rate 
 at present, I felt that I had better meet his very 
 undesired confidence in the spirit of a reasonable 
 ma n. 
 
 " * Really, sir,' I said, * you make me feel 
 very awkward. I hardly know what I am to 
 say to all this. I am naturally flattered by 
 your confidence, but believe it was as unneces- 
 sary, as it was unlooked for. If you and Miss 
 d'Arcy ' the words seemed to stick in my 
 throat and I had the greatest difficulty in finish- 
 ing my sentence civilly * If you and Miss 
 d'Arcy have made up your minds, what more 
 can there be to be said ? In any case her 
 own relations are clearly the only persons who 
 can with the smallest propriety approach the 
 subject.' 
 
 ? " My visitor continued to stare at me for 
 some minutes after I had done speaking with an 
 air of perplexity. 
 
 " * 'Tis clear you don't understand the matter 
 at all, sor,' he said at last. * Relations ! God 
 help her, she hasn't one, nor the half of one 
 left. Not a soul has she on the face of the
 
 i88 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 earth to look after her this blessed minute but 
 me, unless maybe 'tis yourself.' 
 
 " ' Myself ! ' I exclaimed in a tone of astonish- 
 ment, though I must own that my heart gave a 
 sudden throb at the words. 'What right can 
 I have to presume to interfere with Miss d'Arcy 
 or her affairs ? I am here by the purest accident, 
 on a merely business errand, connected with the 
 sale of the property. My stay will be of the 
 shortest possible duration. In all probability 
 I shall leave to-morrow, or next day at 
 furthest.' 
 
 " ' Thank God for that, any way ! ' cried my 
 new acquaintance heartily. ' You'll excuse me, 
 sor,' he added quickly. * No incivility meant 
 or intended, no more than if you were the man 
 in the moon. Only it will be plain to you, as 
 it would to any gentleman, that it is not what 
 a gentleman could be expected to put up with, 
 seeing another man, and a well-looking, person- 
 able young man I'm only saying what that 
 glass behind you can tell you settled in the very 
 house with her. And she but a child, as one 
 may say, and an innocent one at that ready to 
 be led or guided by any one. I'm the last man 
 to threaten a gentleman, not being in the laaste 
 a quarrelsome man, but ' here he confronted 
 me with an unmistakably combative light in
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 189 
 
 his eyes * 'tis a thing I couldn't put up with, 
 so you may as well know it t'once.' 
 
 "'Confound you, sir!' I began. Then feeling 
 the absurdity of quarrelling with such a man, 
 and upon such a subject, I swallowed down my 
 rage, and took refuge in an excess of formality. 
 4 You do me far too much honour by supposing 
 that my being here could have the smallest 
 effect upon your interests,' I said stiffly. * As I 
 remarked before I have come here upon a strictly 
 business errand. Miss d'Arcy was good enough 
 to ask me to dine with her last night, but 
 beyond that I have little hope or expectation of 
 seeing anything of her. Moreover, were the case 
 different,' this I added with a touch of spiteful- 
 ness * I hope I should have too much sense of 
 honour to take advantage of the position of an 
 unfortunate young lady, who, by some extra- 
 ordinary hazard of fortune, has apparently been 
 left utterly alone and unprotected in the 
 world.' 
 
 " This was such a very direct, as well as a very 
 uncalled-for, attack upon my part that I fully 
 expected my irascible acquaintance to proceed at 
 once to extremities. But it seems to be difficult 
 in Ireland to predict when a man will or will 
 not consider himself insulted, and so far from 
 producing a pistol out of his pocket, my curious
 
 190 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 visitor looked suddenly quite crestfallen, and 
 even conscience-stricken. 
 
 " ' I declare to God, sir, I'm the last man to 
 wish to do such a thing ! the very last ! ' he 
 said gloomily. 4 'Tisn't that I care about her 
 relations either, if she had them itself, mind 
 you ; not if every d' Arcy in the county Galway 
 was crammed together, and sitting in that arm- 
 chair. But when I. think of her wanting what 
 she's accustomed to ! I tell you if it was suffer- 
 ing any discomfort on my account I saw her, it 
 would be blowing my brains out on the spot I 
 would, no question of it ! ' 
 
 " There was so much genuine earnestness in 
 the man's voice and manner, that in spite of my 
 incipient rivalry, I could not help a certain feel- 
 ing of pity, and even of sympathy for him, begin- 
 ning to arise in my mind. * Do you mean,' I 
 said ' excuse the apparent impertinence of the 
 question but do I understand you to mean 
 that you have no income of your own to support 
 her with ? ' 
 
 " ' Faith, not a single penny in the wide 
 world,' he exclaimed frankly. * You see the way 
 of it is this. The little bit of money which 
 came to me when me poor father died seven 
 years back well for him that he did die, see- 
 ing what was coming ! why I left it in the
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 191 
 
 property, as a gentleman would. There wasn't 
 one of us did otherwise, barring me eldest sister, 
 that married a man out of Armagh a nigger l 
 he is, if ever there was one, though a clever 
 lawyer. As for the rest of us, we left the bit 
 of money in it, and I needn't tell you where it 
 is now, with the rates close on twenty shillings 
 in the pound, and me eldest brother himself 
 with only his wife's money between him and 
 the workhouse.' 
 
 " l You have a profession ? ' I suggested mildly. 
 
 " * Then indeed I have not,' he replied indig- 
 nantly, and this time as though I had really 
 offered him some deadly insult. * What pro- 
 fession do you suppose me father's son would 
 be likely to have, unless it was soldiering, and 
 that's against me principles ? ' 
 
 " I felt too dumfounded at first by this 
 observation to attempt any reply. When I did 
 so it was with the feeling that I had got into a 
 labyrinth, out of which I possessed no clue. 
 * Do you mean that you object to soldiering in 
 the abstract ? ' I inquired helplessly. 
 
 " At that he laughed, a great jovial laugh that 
 rang through the empty room like a trumpet. 
 
 " ' Bless me, sor, do I look like a man that 
 would object to soldiering in the abshtract ? ' 
 
 1 Niggard ; niggardly fellow.
 
 192 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 he cried. And to do him justice he certainly 
 did not. 
 
 " ' By me principles, I mean that I'm not 
 not altogether exactly right with the Govern- 
 ment at present, don't you see. If I wasn't 
 out with those that got into trouble the other 
 day, it was by accident so to speak, and owing to 
 the want of time. The whole thing was got 
 up in such a devil of a hurry. 'Twas over, 
 you may say, before 'twas rightly begun. I'd 
 have been out with them fast enough if they'd 
 have given me the chance, but before I knew 
 they meant fighting, all the fighting there was 
 was over. A poor business they made of it ; a 
 desperate poor business from find to finish ! ' 
 
 " This promised to be rather interesting, but 
 since Mr. O'Hara's affairs were really no con- 
 cern of mine, I felt that I had received enough 
 of his confidences for the present. Accordingly 
 I made an excuse, and left him for the moment 
 in possession of the field. 
 
 II 
 
 " M Y business that morning was to see as much 
 as I could of the property, and to make up my 
 mind about it as soon as possible. Accordingly,
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 193 
 
 though a fine rain was falling, and the sky so 
 lowering that it seemed to be only a few yards 
 above my head, I donned a mackintosh, pulled 
 a pair of leggings over my boots, and was soon 
 trudging down the carriage drive, and into the 
 region beyond. 
 
 " I had almost forgotten the look of stony 
 desolation which had so impressed me the 
 previous evening. As I passed out through 
 the gate, it suddenly burst upon me again, and 
 I had not gone many hundred yards before I 
 found myself knee-deep, so to speak, in stones, 
 stones of every size and shape, but all of a 
 blackish-grey colour, and under them the scanty 
 herbage seemed to be suffocated. 
 
 " The impression which the whole scene con- 
 veyed was as if some tremendous hailstorm, with 
 rocks instead of hailstones, had recently occurred. 
 For every blade of grass there seemed to be five 
 stones, for every patch of potatoes or oats, there 
 must have been a thousand. 
 
 " How, even under the most favourable cir- 
 cumstances, a population of any size could have 
 found the means of subsistence, I was at a loss 
 to guess, yet, from the number of empty cabins 
 on every side, it had evidently been thickly 
 populated, and not long before either. 
 
 "It seemed a mockery that the only work
 
 194 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 which the remaining inhabitants appeared to find 
 to do was the occupation of stone-breaking. I 
 passed a dozen men at one place, sitting by the 
 roadside, each armed with a hammer, which 
 he was listlessly bringing down upon the stones 
 as I passed. These, and a group of women and 
 children huddled for shelter behind a wall, were 
 literally the only human beings I saw all the 
 time I was out. 
 
 " Tired with walking over the stones, sick 
 at heart at the misery of everything I wit- 
 nessed, and fully resolved to have nothing to 
 say to such an investment, I went back about 
 three o'clock to the house, and roamed idly 
 round it for some time without meeting any 
 one. It was a roomy old structure, ugly rather 
 than otherwise, but with a certain stamp of 
 dignity and hospitality about it, which even its 
 present dismantled condition could not entirely 
 efface. I caught glimpses through the windows 
 of a couple of drawing-rooms, and there seemed 
 to be other sitting-rooms beyond. Leaving the 
 front of the house, I passed through a shrubbery, 
 up a short path between tall evergreens, and 
 into a stable-yard, which lay at the back of the 
 house. It was empty, and almost completely 
 grass-grown ; most of the stable-doors were 
 shut, but one happened to be open as I passed,
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 195 
 
 and, looking in, I saw five or six loose boxes, 
 and a number of stalls, all in fairly good order, 
 but all untenanted, with the exception of a 
 small donkey, which showed its innocent grey 
 muzzle below a rack meant evidently for more 
 dignified animals. 
 
 " I had made the circuit of the yard, and was 
 on the point of leaving it, when I came to a 
 wall, with a large door opening in the centre 
 of it. This door being open, I passed through, 
 and found myself in an inner yard. It was 
 deserted, like the first, but not yet grass-grown, 
 and in the middle of it stood a couple of huge 
 copper caldrons, capable of containing perhaps 
 fifty gallons apiece, with a primitive cooking 
 arrangement under each, and a long bench or 
 table, with stools at intervals. It was not at 
 these things, however, that my gaze was 
 riveted, but upon a slight figure in black, 
 sitting motionless upon a stool in the middle 
 of this scene of desolation. It was Eleanor 
 d'Arcy. Evidently she had not heard my 
 approach, for she continued to sit upon her 
 stool, her eyes bent upon the ground, her 
 hands hanging listlessly before her, her whole 
 attitude one of absorbed and concentrated 
 melancholy. 
 
 " I stood still for a minute, not venturing
 
 196 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 to approach her, but was about to give some 
 signs of my presence, when she suddenly flung 
 her arms down upon the table before her, 
 and, hiding her face in them, burst out cry- 
 ing, or rather wailing, with a long-drawn 
 moan of anguish that rings through my memory 
 still. 
 
 " The old woman, Nora O'Connor, who must 
 have been hovering somewhere near at hand, 
 ran into the yard the instant she heard that 
 cry, and squatting down on the ground beside 
 her mistress, put one arm about her, and with 
 the other began gently patting her on the 
 back, uttering at the same time the sort of 
 crooning sounds which nurses often do to com- 
 fort some child that has hurt itself. But the 
 poor girl only turned away from her with a 
 louder moan of desolation. 
 
 " * Oh, Ann, Ann ! Where are you ? Sister 
 dear, do come to me ! ' she cried. 
 
 " Getting up from her stool, she looked all 
 round ; at the empty yard ; at the benches, and 
 the table, and the caldrons ; looked at it all as 
 if somewhere the person whom she sought must 
 be found; the tears meanwhile streaming down 
 her face, her hands locked together, and her 
 whole expression that of a child given over to 
 the most complete despair. Suddenly she caught
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 197 
 
 sight of me, standing in the open doorway. She 
 did not however avert her gaze, as might have 
 been expected. On the contrary she looked at 
 me with exactly the same appealing expres- 
 sion, as if to ask if / could not help her, if 
 I could not somehow find her sister for her ? 
 Then after a minute she turned, and, followed 
 by the old woman, went out of the yard, and 
 back into the house. 
 
 " I, too, presently left the yard, and wandered 
 away, I knew not where, stirred to the very 
 depths of my soul, by that look of appeal ; 
 feeling as if it were tugging at my very heart- 
 strings. I got upon the grass, and struck across 
 it to the shore, where I wandered about for 
 hours, heedless of where I was going, thinking 
 only of her. I passed below the old black 
 tower upon the point, and up again to where 
 the shore rose steeply, and I could see across the 
 stone-encumbered country, to a line of cloud- 
 covered mountains which stretched towards the 
 north. I looked at all this, but I saw nothing 
 clearly. I saw only Eleanor d'Arcy's face, with 
 those great tear-filled eyes turned in appeal upon 
 myself. My love for her sprang up full-grown 
 in that instant. I loved her, I told myself so, I 
 swore that I would win her. I never stopped 
 to consider the hindrances ; never asked myself
 
 198 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 how far it was possible. I was in love, and for 
 the first time in my life. 
 
 " It seems strange to remember the follies 
 one commits under such circumstances," my 
 old gentleman went on after a pause. " I 
 remember striding about that afternoon, and 
 feeling as if I owned everything I could see ; 
 feeling as if she and I were going to be king 
 and queen of this wide domain which her 
 ancestors had once possessed. The weather got 
 worse and worse ; the wind rose and whistled 
 amongst the stones ; rags of seaweed blew 
 against my face like dead leaves, but I walked 
 about as if on air. As for the dreariness it was 
 no longer dreary to me. It excited me ; made 
 me feel as if I were some sort of a hero. I 
 remember shouting at the top of my voice, and 
 leaping as I raced along the shore, so that any 
 one who had happened to see me that afternoon 
 would have thought that I had gone stark mad. 
 My love was like a bonfire on a winter's night, 
 and everything seemed to be as fuel to its heat. 
 Even what I couldn't help knowing to be the 
 disadvantages of the situation; her helplessness; 
 the sort of collapse which had evidently over- 
 taken her mind, all this made me only love her 
 the more. I told myself that I would marry 
 her ; that I would take her away from this
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 199 
 
 dreary place, with all its dreadful memories ; 
 that she should find warmth, love, and com- 
 fort elsewhere ; that she would forget her old 
 troubles ; would take new root in a new place ; 
 that everything in short would be different, and 
 that everything would end rightly. 
 
 " Well, I may pass over all my raptures, 
 which are neither very interesting, nor, I sup- 
 pose, particularly original, seeing that every 
 man has gone through much the same experi- 
 ence, and will go on to tell you the end of this 
 Galway adventure of mine. I remained at 
 Castle d' Arcy for several weeks longer. I could 
 have left sooner, of course, but did not choose 
 to do so, and therefore told myself that it was 
 my business to stay. I saw a great deal of 
 Eleanor d'Arcy during that time. We used to 
 eat our meals together, and sometimes she would 
 linger a little while in the dining-room after 
 they were finished, and now and then I was 
 able to persuade her to walk with me as far as 
 the little summer-house upon the shore, where 
 she would sit for an hour or more, looking, 
 in the passive, helpless fashion peculiar to her, 
 at the sea. She even grew to be rather 
 attached to me, I think, in a placid, clinging sort 
 of way. I talked to her, of course, about my 
 devotion, and no doubt poured out a hundred
 
 200 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 absurdities at her feet. She, in her turn, talked 
 to me, but never in reply to what I said ; 
 always about her sisters ; about their life to- 
 gether ; and generally as if they were still alive ; 
 though sometimes in the middle of a sentence 
 she would stop short, and begin to look around 
 her, with that peculiarly wistful expression of 
 hers, which always went straight to my heart. 
 " Mr. O'Hara came a good deal to Castle 
 d'Arcy during this time, and to him also she 
 would talk in much the same gentle, dreamy 
 fashion as she did to me ; stopping often in the 
 middle of something she was saying, as if listen- 
 ing for a step on the stairs, or a voice in the 
 hall ; for those footsteps and those voices which 
 she would never hear again. We could neither 
 of us say that she encouraged us, and yet in 
 a sense she did, for she was always, not only 
 gentle, but even grateful, as if pleased by 
 every kind word, and only longing for more. 
 I believed, and still believe, that she would 
 have accepted either of us, not me more than 
 him, or him than me, but whichever of us 
 had pressed our claims the first, and the most 
 vigorously upon her attention. She seemed 
 to be helplessly looking for some support ; 
 to be pining and sickening for it. She was 
 utterly incapable of thinking or planning out
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 201 
 
 any course of action for herself, while, on the 
 other hand, she was evidently perfectly willing 
 to fall into any plan that some one else chose 
 to lay out for her. 
 
 " Looking back at the whole circumstance, it 
 seems inconceivable that she should have had 
 no one to stand by her in such a juncture of 
 her life except two young men, neither of 
 whom were any relation to her, and neither of 
 whom could certainly have been called disinter- 
 ested. Whether the extreme isolation of the 
 property had cut her off from the rest of the 
 world, whether every one was so occupied with 
 his own affairs as to be indifferent to others, or 
 whether again it really was not known that one 
 of the d'Arcy family was still living in the old 
 home, certain it is that not a soul seemed to 
 heed what became of her. No one came near 
 the house all the time I was there ; no one 
 wrote, or took any trouble about her. The 
 only other house of any size within miles of 
 Castle d'Arcy was the O' Haras', and its soli- 
 tary inhabitant was at present young Mr. 
 Henry O'Hara himself. His elder brother had 
 been a tenant, I found, of Mr. d'Arcy, and had 
 acted for some years as his agent, but had now 
 left the country. He was said to have been a 
 very bad agent and his management to have
 
 202 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 contributed not a little to the collapse that had 
 befallen the property, but in all probability this 
 was merely a question of time, and if ruin had 
 not come when it did, it must have followed 
 soon afterwards. 
 
 " Anyhow there she was, absolutely alone, 
 and that some decision about her future must 
 be come to was clear. And there were we two 
 young men, and the matter had to be fought 
 out single-handed between us. Every time Mr. 
 O'Hara and myself met, we glared more and 
 more ferociously at one another. There was 
 no pretence on my part now of not being his 
 rival. I hated him cordially, and probably he 
 hated me, if anything, rather worse. To get 
 an extra look from her, or an extra chance 
 of walking, or sitting beside her, we would 
 either of us have cut the other's throat with 
 the greatest pleasure in life. 
 
 " The two old servants of the house kept 
 the balance pretty evenly between us, one of 
 them inclining to O'Hara's side, and the 
 other to mine. Oddly enough it was the old 
 man, who had at first been so furiously opposed 
 to me, who came round to my side, while the 
 old woman, though obsequiously civil, would 
 have nothing to say to me, but sidled away 
 whenever I tried to approach her. I will
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 203 
 
 not deny that poor O'Connor's new-found 
 regard for me was due in the first instance to 
 certain objects which Heaven forgive me I 
 produced out of my pocket for his benefit, 
 but I think that it also sprang from a deep- 
 seated dislike and contempt which he evidently 
 felt for the O'Hara family, as well as from the 
 satisfaction of having some new auditor to 
 whom he could discourse upon the past greatness, 
 glory, and grandeur of the d'Arcy family. 
 
 " He would come stealing out of the house to 
 join me of a morning as I stood looking across 
 the sea, or strolled to and fro over the cushions 
 of thyme and pink thrift which covered the 
 upper rocks. Below this point began that long 
 black reef of rocks, which I mentioned before, 
 and which was almost tike a natural pier, run- 
 ning far out into the sea, and joined to the 
 shore artificially by a flight of rough stone steps, 
 mounting up to the little summer-house which 
 surmounted the top of the point. 
 
 " * Miss Ann's thrack ' that was what old 
 O'Connor called this natural pier, and he would 
 tell me wonderful tales about Miss Ann, and 
 about the dance she used to lead her suitors, 
 who from his account numbered every unmarried 
 man in the county, all at least that could have 
 ventured to aspire to a d'Arcy of Castle d'Arcy.
 
 204 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 " ' 'Twasn't her looks, no, 'twasn't Miss Ann's 
 Jooks,' he would say, shaking his old white 
 head with an air of mystery * though she 
 was a fine-looking lady, too ; big in the body, 
 like all the d'Arcys, and a fine colour in her 
 cheeks, and the clearest skin in the country. 
 No, no, 'twasn't her looks, 'twas her ways. 
 She had ways of her own that was like no one 
 else's that ever was born, and no man ever 
 come nigh her that could stand out against 
 them ! Why,'yer honour, she'd talk to them 
 about ghosts, maybe, or marmaids, or say- 
 divils, or the like of that, till she'd terrify 
 their very souls out of their bodies, and then 
 she'd soothe and soother them down again, so 
 that you'd think 'twas their own mother she 
 was, no less ! And the fun of her ! I've 
 heard her talking in that little tay-house up 
 there, and she pouring out the tay at the time, 
 and there would be six or seven of them 
 courtin' her 'tonce ; just hanging on the lips 
 of her, and beggin' and prayin' of her to 
 marry them. Young Mr. Blakeney of Castle 
 Blakeney, and Mr. Pearse, and the old Lord's 
 son from near Athenry, and Major O'Keefe, 
 and the rest of the officer-gentlemen quartered 
 at Galway not that she'd ever have looked 
 at one of thim. And talk ! I tell you she
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 205 
 
 could talk the birds off the trees, or the fishes 
 out of the say pools, so she could ! And 
 Jaugh ! She'd just make you drop off your 
 seat with laughing, and with the quick turns 
 of her ! Her tongue was like her feet, and 
 they were the two nimblest feet in the whole 
 county of Galway. 
 
 " * " Marry you indade ! " she'd say, when 
 they would be pressing of her. " I'll jist tell 
 you what I'll do. I'll marry any one of 
 you that catches me up on me own thrack, 
 before I gets to the end of it, and that's more 
 than any of you will do ! " Those would be 
 Miss Ann's own words, and with that she'd 
 lep up from her seat in the tay-house, and 
 away with her down them steps like so much 
 lightning. 'Twasn't the goats of Aranmore 
 opposite that could teach her to run, nor yet 
 to lep either, so they couldn't, Miss Ann ! 
 To see her tearing down them steep stairs, and 
 along that thrack, and the say, as yer honour 
 can see, only a little way from her feet, and 
 deep enough, God knows, to drown any one ! 
 And the gentlemen they would be after her, 
 trying to catch her up ; and fighting, and 
 scrambling, and pulling at one another, seeing 
 who'd get first ! Slippin' too on the rocks, 
 they'd be, and sliding over the sayweed, and
 
 206 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 the Major's spurs catching in the cracks, and 
 Mr. Blakeney that always was a hard swearer 
 cursing so you'd think the very birds would 
 be frighted to hear him ! Oh, glory, glory, 
 but 'twas a wonderful sight. As for catching 
 her, it would be out on that bit of far rock 
 you see there, in the middle of the say, stand- 
 ing on it, and waving her bit of handkercher 
 at them, she'd be, almost before they'd started. 
 Miss Elly she'd sit in the tay-house, and 
 laugh, fit to split. It was the only times I 
 ever seen Miss Elly laugh, for she was always 
 a peaceable, quite creature, not like Miss Ann, 
 that was all spirit and life, like the wind. 
 A curious thing 'twas to look at them, and 
 think they were sisters at all, and they so 
 different. 
 
 " * Fond of one another ? Fond is no name 
 for it, sor ! My God, they were fond of one 
 another. Miss Elly she'd sit and look at Miss 
 Ann by the hour, and anything that belonged 
 to Miss Ann, if it was only an old pair of 
 gloves, she'd hold it, and kiss it, just the same 
 as if it was herself. She was Miss Ann's 
 shadder, just her shadder. Why the mother 
 of the two of them died when Miss Elly was 
 born, and Miss Ann was Miss Elly's mother, 
 and no better mother she needed either, though
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 207 
 
 it was but a shlip of a young lady she was 
 herself at the time ; just a shlip, Miss Ann ! 
 
 " * Miss Elly the handsomest, sor ? Why 
 Lord bless your honour, no man in the county 
 of Galway ever so much as looked at Miss Elly, 
 nor thought of her, when Miss Ann was in 
 it ! She was just her shadder, as I tell you. 
 And to think that there's nothin' now only the 
 shadder left ! Oh, my God, my God ! ' 
 
 " I used to try to extract old O'Connor's 
 real opinion of my rival, and would now and 
 then bring the conversation dexterously round 
 to the subject of the O'Hara family, but the 
 old fellow was very cautious, and it was not 
 easy to draw him out upon that subject. 
 
 " ' Dacent people ; yes indade, very dacent, 
 couldn't be more so,' he would say. There 
 were some high O'Haras in the county, but 
 he had never seen any of them himself. As 
 for Mr. O'Hara he was *a fine-grown young 
 man, a very fine-grown young man,' and that 
 was about all he could be induced to say 
 about him. 
 
 " From the peculiar screw which he gave 
 to his mouth when he spoke of them it was 
 easy, however, to see that he regarded the in- 
 ferior family as simply so much dirt under 
 the feet of his own masters, and that the bare
 
 ao8 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 notion of one of them aspiring to lift his eyes 
 to a d'Arcy was almost too audacious to have 
 come within his idea of what was possible. 
 At the same time I have no reason to flatter 
 myself that he regarded me as in any degree 
 worthier, indeed, for all I could tell to the 
 contrary, rather less so. 
 
 "Well, I must pass on, or I shall be all 
 night over my story. You can easily imagine 
 how O'Hara and I hated one another, and how 
 my hopes and fears rose or fell, according as 
 he or I seemed to be getting the advantage, 
 and I will go on now to tell you how this 
 rivalry of ours came to an end, and what finally 
 settled the matter, though why it should have 
 settled it, is more than I have ever been able 
 to explain satisfactorily to myself. 
 
 " I had gone one afternoon with Miss d'Arcy 
 to the ' tay-house,' as old O'Connor called it, 
 and we had been sitting together for some time 
 in the doorway, looking out over the sea. The 
 weather was rather wild, and finding that she 
 had brought no cloak or other wrap with her, 
 I offered to go back to the house and look 
 for one, leaving her sitting by herself in the 
 doorway. 
 
 " I had been to the house, and had got back 
 to the point of the slope from which the little
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 209 
 
 summer-house became visible, when, looking 
 towards it, I saw, to my surprise, that Miss 
 d'Arcy was no longer there. In another 
 moment I saw where she was. She had gone 
 down the steep, rocky steps, and was at that 
 moment walking slowly along the narrow track 
 * Miss Ann's thrack ' and looking from 
 side to side, as if seeking for something or 
 some one that she expected to find there. 
 
 " Now that particular reef of rocks had always 
 seemed to me to be a remarkably dangerous place 
 to walk on, even in calm weather, and just then 
 there was a good deal of breeze, and the waves 
 were breaking every minute across the portion 
 which ran furthest out to sea, leaving a gap 
 between it and the big rock in which it 
 ended. 
 
 " I was so terrified at seeing her there that I 
 could hardly stir, and, though I tried to hurry, 
 I was aware that I made remarkably slow pro- 
 gress. Miss d'Arcy meanwhile walked quietly 
 along till she came to the gap near the end. 
 There she stopped, and stood looking down at 
 the space of water, which was at one moment 
 quite wide, while at the next it would shrink 
 till it seemed to be a mere thread of silver. 
 Here she waited a little while ; then suddenly 
 tried to spring across the water, as, from old
 
 210 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 O'Connor's account, her sister Miss Ann was in 
 the habit of doing. 
 
 "Whether her foot slipped, or whether the 
 space itself was too wide, or what happened I 
 do not know, but in any case she fell, and lay 
 there, with the water washing right across her ; 
 evidently utterly unable to recover herself, and 
 certain, as it seemed to me, to be washed into 
 the sea by the next big wave. 
 
 " I ran for my life, as you may imagine. 
 Never shall I forget the horrible sensation of 
 seeing her there ; seeing the waves go right 
 across her, and being unable to get at her; 
 feeling certain every moment that I should 
 see her washed away before my eyes. By this 
 time she was clinging with both hands to the 
 seaweeds, but they were evidently giving way, 
 and could hardly be expected to last more than 
 another minute or two. My heart was in my 
 mouth, my legs seemed to be made of lead, 
 and I felt, rather than saw, that I should be 
 too late. Those horrible green rollers kept 
 curling over her, and the great brown strands 
 of oarweed circling in the water under her feet. 
 It was like a nightmare, and, just as in a night- 
 mare, my legs seemed to be tied together, 
 and my knees to knock, so that I could hardly 
 move. I had got to where the rocks began,
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 211 
 
 but had still a considerable distance to go, 
 when I heard a shout a little to the left of 
 me, and the next minute there came a sound 
 of thundering footsteps, the footsteps of some 
 one tearing down the steep slope, which at 
 this point broke almost sheer into the sea. I 
 looked in the direction, and saw with a curious 
 mixture of relief and fury that some one was 
 before me. It was O'Hara, of course. How 
 he had contrived to appear upon the scene 
 so exactly in the nick of time, I do not know, 
 but in one moment from the time I heard his 
 first shout, he seemed to be down the slope ; 
 to have crossed the steep piece at the bottom, 
 which was below the reef; to have jumped 
 into the sea ; to have swum to the reef, and 
 clambered to the top of it ; to have got hold 
 of Miss d'Arcy ; picked her up in his arms, 
 and to be marching back with her to the house. 
 " He came close to where I was standing, 
 mad with rage, and hardly able to keep myself 
 from rushing upon him, and dragging, or try- 
 ing to drag her away. He took no notice of 
 me, however, neither did she ; indeed she lay 
 like a baby in his arms, with her eyes shut, 
 and her face dead white. He walked straight 
 on to the house, and up the stairs, with the 
 air of a man who has a right to do so. I
 
 212 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 followed them slowly, but, having reached the 
 door, I remained outside upon the grass, with 
 the jealousy and hatred of ten thousand fiends 
 tearing and gnawing at my breast. 
 
 " Five minutes later he came out again, wear- 
 ing a look of open triumph upon his face, and 
 walked straight up to where I was standing. 
 
 " As I have already told you, he was an 
 extremely well-built, handsome man, and on 
 this occasion he looked handsomer than I had 
 ever seen him look before. The wetness of 
 his clothes, which brought out the splendid 
 muscles of his arms and back, made him look 
 also several degrees bigger than usual. 
 
 " * Well, sor ! ' he said. So far as I can 
 remember that was all that he did say, but 
 the tone was enough. I could feel that he 
 was simply swelling all over with triumph ; 
 that he looked upon the rivalry between him- 
 self and me as ended ; that he considered that 
 he had won her ; and that there was nothing 
 further for me to say or to do in the matter. 
 
 " I scowled at him furiously, but I also accepted 
 my defeat, though, as I said before, I never 
 could explain to myself why I did so. 
 
 " ' All right,' I said sullenly, answering the 
 tone rather than the words. ' Don't let her 
 starve, if you" can help it ; that's all ! ' And
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 213 
 
 I turned on my heel, and went off down the 
 walk. 
 
 " It was an extremely mean thing for me to 
 have said, seeing that he could not possibly 
 help his own poverty, and why I said it I 
 cannot understand, any more than I can under- 
 stand why I should have felt that the mere 
 fact of his having saved her life, while I had 
 failed to do so, should have decided the matter 
 between us. I can only suppose that there are 
 occasions, even in these days, when a struggle 
 of the sort between two men tends to reduce 
 itself to a question of thews and sinews, and 
 that the best man, physically speaking, wins. 
 It was almost as if we had been running a 
 race, as old Connor declared the suitors of 
 * Miss Ann ' used to do, and that O'Hara, 
 having won it, had in consequence secured 
 the prize. 
 
 " Possibly for I don't want to make myself 
 out any better than I was I may have had a 
 feeling at the back of my mind that to bring 
 home this poor, beautiful, distracted creature as 
 my bride would have been a terribly rash pro- 
 ceeding. Men are cautious animals at bottom, 
 even when they are most in Jove, and that may 
 have had something to say to the odd sub- 
 missiveness, not even yet accountable to myself,
 
 2i 4 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 with which I yielded up the prize for which 
 we had both been struggling. 
 
 " After this there was nothing further for me 
 to do. I simply stood aside, and let matters 
 take their course, as they would have done if I 
 had never appeared upon the scene at all. Fear- 
 ful, I suppose, of any further delay, O'Hara 
 took the whole business into his own hands, 
 and the arrangements for their marriage were 
 carried out by him with the utmost rapidity. 
 As for Elly herself, she, poor dear, was like a 
 child in his hands. I believed then, and have 
 always believed, that had I taken her destiny into 
 mine, and asked her to come away with me, she 
 would have agreed to do so. As matters stood, 
 it was O'Hara who had asked her to go with 
 him, and their destination was to be America. 
 
 " It came to the last day. I had kept out 
 of the way as much as I could, though an 
 obstinate determination to see the end of it 
 had prevented my leaving Castle d'Arcy till all 
 was over. It was settled that they were to be 
 married in Galway, where O'Hara had some 
 relations, and next day they were to sail in an 
 emigrant ship for New York. Old Nora was 
 to accompany her young mistress, and her hus- 
 band was to follow them, whenever sufficient 
 money for his journey could be found.
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 215 
 
 " The evening before they left I went to say 
 good-bye to Miss d'Arcy, and was coming 
 out of the house when I suddenly ran up 
 against O'Hara, almost exactly on the same 
 spot where we had parted so angrily the day 
 of her adventure upon the reef. 
 
 " He was passing on, without taking any 
 notice of me, but I stopped him abruptly. 
 
 " * Stop a moment please, Mr. O'Hara,' I 
 said. * Everything is over now. You have 
 won her, and there is nothing more to be said. 
 I spoke to you very uncivilly the other day, 
 but you must acknowledge that you would 
 probably have done the same, had my case been 
 yours. What I want to say to you now is 
 simply this For God's sake be careful of her ! 
 
 And, look here I pulled a leaf out of a 
 
 memorandum book, and held it towards him 
 *I want you to take this address, and to 
 promise me that if ever you are in any diffi- 
 culty ; if ever she if ever if if there is 
 ever anything I can do for her, that you will 
 let me know ? Will you promise me this ? ' 
 
 " He looked at me for a moment between 
 the eyes. 
 
 " * I will, sor. Before God I will. You're 
 a gentleman. Good-bye to you, sor,' he said. 
 
 " It u'as good-bye, for I never saw either of
 
 216 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 them again. The next day they went off very 
 early in the morning to Galway, and I returned 
 to England." 
 
 My old gentleman was silent for a consider- 
 able time after he had finished his story, and I 
 also said nothing. At last " Did you never 
 see her again?" I inquired. 
 
 " Never," he answered. 
 
 "And did Mr. O'Hara never write to 
 you ? " 
 
 " Never," he repeated. " From that day 
 to this I have never been able to learn any- 
 thing about either of them." 
 
 He was again silent, and I also sat still, 
 partly from not wishing to disturb him, partly 
 because his story had set me thinking of many 
 things. The rest of our party had long since 
 gone to bed, and the house was absolutely 
 silent. Presently I got up, went over to a 
 window, opened it, and looked out. A frag- 
 ment of creeper, which had got loose, had 
 kept flapping against the wall with a small, 
 persistent, tapping noise during all the latter 
 part of the story. The view from this window 
 I was standing at, though nothing special to 
 boast of in the matter of beauty, was rather a 
 cheerful one in the day-time ; a road, running
 
 AFTER THE FAMINE 217 
 
 past the house to the nearest country town, 
 being visible through a break in the trees, so 
 that there was generally a glimpse of people 
 coming and going, and a comfortable stir of 
 wheels. At this hour, however, there was no- 
 thing, and, but for that tiny persistent tapping 
 of the creeper, the silence would have been 
 absolute. A small pond, which lay in a hollow 
 below the house, shone with a dull cold gleam, 
 which, on looking closer, I perceived to come 
 from the reflection of a star twinkling immedi- 
 ately above it. It was September, and the air 
 was already beginning to feel chilly. The 
 branches of the trees kept rocking monoton- 
 ously backwards and forwards, with a slow 
 recurrent movement, and, through a break be- 
 tween two of them, I could distinguish a long 
 stretch of empty road, which seemed to be 
 stretching dully away to all infinity.
 
 IRISH HISTORY CONSIDERED AS 
 A PASTIME 
 
 IT is notoriously difficult to know what will 
 really appeal to our youngers and betters ! 
 Unless administered very carefully, and in the 
 insinuating guise of a story, history in my 
 experience rarely does so, though why it does 
 not do so it is less easy to explain satisfactorily. 
 The obvious explanation probably is that so 
 long as people are extremely busy in concoct- 
 ing imaginary history for themselves, the history 
 that is already cut, dried, and laid upon a shelf, 
 is too thin, and too remote a business, for the 
 natural grossness of youthful egotism to relish. 
 This may be so, yet other pursuits seem able 
 to overcome that obstacle, so why not this 
 one ? Looking back with as hearty a con- 
 centration of egotism as I can summon for the 
 occasion, I must confess that beyond a dim, 
 
 probably quite unwarrantable, predilection in 
 
 218
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 219 
 
 favour of the Black Prince, or of Highland 
 Charlie, I cannot remember caring greatly in 
 my early youth for the history of any country, 
 including the country to which I belonged, and 
 which I certainly, after my own feeble little 
 fashion, loved. 
 
 And by early youth I do not even mean the 
 obscure realm of babyhood, but that compara- 
 tively well-lit and well-explored country which 
 lies about us as we near our twelfth, thirteenth, 
 and fourteenth birthdays. Before that date the 
 distaste for history, as for most other pursuits 
 affected by our elders, goes without saying. 
 It is not alone then the history which exists 
 only upon dull, printed pages pages in which 
 Greeks, Romans, and Frenchmen ; Nebuchad- 
 nezzar and Napoleon Buonaparte, all appear 
 to have lived about the same time, and to be 
 equally dull and unnecessary persons. It is also 
 the history which is still walking visibly about 
 the world which, like Adam in the famous 
 German play, may almost be seen crossing the 
 stage on its way to be created even this 
 description of history we are far too self- 
 respecting to take any notice of, or to lift up 
 our heads from our own concerns to consider. 
 
 And if the subject generally is thus rather at a 
 discount, it is hardly, I fear, to be expected that
 
 220 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Irish history would prove the one marked and 
 favoured exception ! Even those whose palates 
 have grown hardened by a course of the most 
 arid literary provender have pronounced that 
 particular form of diet to be exceedingly un- 
 palatable. What hope, therefore, that it would 
 find favour in a quarter where to be entertaining 
 is your one chance of recognition ? Possibly if 
 it were discreetly whispered in this same quarter 
 that the study is not one favourably looked 
 upon as a rule by elders, that might produce 
 a certain reaction in its favour. So far, how- 
 ever, no master-hand has undertaken to serve it 
 up in such a manner as to give it even a hope 
 of success with those particularly difficult critics. 
 Indeed I must confess that, as a whole, I can- 
 not imagine any one succeeding in doing so ; 
 the bare thought of such a task being calcu- 
 lated to awaken terror in any moderately dis- 
 cerning mind. 
 
 In judiciously selected fragments, on the other 
 hand, a good deal might, it ,seems to me, be 
 done. Few historical personages, for instance, 
 seem to have been more clearly laid out by 
 nature to be a boy's hero than Gerald, or, as 
 he was usually called by his contemporaries, 
 Geroil Mor, the eighth and greatest of all the 
 Earls of Kildare. Everything he said and
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 221 
 
 did, his whole standpoint and view of life, 
 seem exactly modelled upon the standard of 
 the third or fourth form. He was prepared, 
 for instance, at any moment to fight his king ; 
 he was even prepared, as will presently be seen, 
 to set up a new king in place of the old one, 
 when that old one had, in his opinion, mis- 
 behaved. Certain things, however, he would 
 not do. He would not join hands with the 
 common enemy, even when such joining would 
 have been of advantage to him. He was the 
 King's Irish Viceroy, and the King's Irish 
 Viceroy, whatever happened, he was determined 
 to live and die. 
 
 Personal prejudice in his favour apart, he 
 really seems to have been a very delightful 
 being, and his sayings and doings are full of 
 the sense of a real, and a most vivid person- 
 ality. As regards his outward man we are 
 unfortunately rather in the dark, the art of the 
 portrait painter never having greatly flourished 
 in Ireland. No likeness of him, even the 
 rudest, so far as I am aware, exists, nor have we 
 even any piece of armour that he wore, or any 
 weapon that he handled ; while of his chief house 
 little remains save the naked walls, broken in his 
 grandson's time by the cannon of Skeffington, 
 and existing as a ruin to our own. Some meagre
 
 222 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 personal descriptions there are, but how far they 
 correspond to the man as his contemporaries 
 knew him, must be guessed, less by evidence, 
 than by a process of imaginative reconstruction. 
 "A mightie man of stature," Holinshed tells 
 us he was, and as this is borne out by another 
 report, which describes him as " of tall stature 
 and good presence," we may safely regard it as 
 accurate. A big, broad-shouldered man, with a 
 good-natured, dominant face, somewhat heavy 
 about the region of the lower jaw. Though little 
 Celtic blood is traceable in his veins, there seems 
 to have been a considerable share of it in his 
 nature. " The Earl being soon hotte, and 
 soon colde, was well belooved," says the same 
 Holinshed. " He was open and playne, hardly 
 able to rule himself when moved ; in anger not 
 so sharp as short, being easily displeased, and 
 sooner appeased." A vehement, sharp-spoken 
 man, dangerous when opposed, but easily mollified 
 when once the occasion for anger was past ; a 
 man not difficult to move to laughter, and liking 
 a jest, even if it were sometimes at his own 
 expense. Thus anecdote tells that one day, he 
 " being at the tyme in hotte rage," one Maister 
 Boyce, " a gentleman retegned to him," was 
 offered a horse by another retainer on condition 
 that he would venture to " plucke an heare
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 223 
 
 (hair) from the earl hys bearde." Thereat, 
 nothing daunted, Boyce, stepping up to the Earl, 
 with whose good-nature he was probably 
 thoroughly acquainted, said, " If it like your 
 good lordshippe, one of your horsemen has 
 promised me a choyce nagge if I do snippe one 
 haire from your bearde." " Well," quoth the 
 Earl, " I agree thereto, but if thou plucke out 
 more than one, I promise to bring my fyst about 
 thine eare." 
 
 Something like a leader this ! Imagine the 
 store of such anecdotes, of which this is but a 
 sample, which must have been circulated round 
 the camp fires, while the steaks were grilling, and 
 the clothes drying, during those interminable 
 expeditions which the Lord Deputy was forever 
 waging against the O'Byrnes, the O'Tooles, the 
 O'Connor Falys, or other of the *' King's Irish 
 enemies ! " For Geroit Mor was essentially a 
 fighter. He loved to be for ever in the saddle. 
 He adored fighting for its own sake, and would 
 have made a raid so would most Irishmen of 
 his day, or any other for that matter were it 
 to recover a strayed kid. 
 
 Everything we hear of him bears the same 
 stamp. His talk smacks emphatically of 
 the open air. He quickly sickened of courts 
 and courtly places, even when not kept in them
 
 224 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 as a prisoner. His son's speech to Wolsey 
 would have equally suited his own lips. " I 
 slumber, my lord, in a hard cabyn, while 
 your Grace sleeps in a bed of downe ; I serve 
 under the cope of Heaven, when you are served 
 under a canapie ; I drinke water out of my 
 skull, 1 when you drinke wine out of golden 
 cuppes ; my courser is trayned to the field, when 
 your genet is taught to amble. When you are 
 begraced, crouched, and kneeled to, I find small 
 grace with any of our Irish rebels, 'cept I myself 
 cut them off by the two knees." 
 
 Wolsey, we are told, having all this suddenly 
 fired at him, " rose up in a fume from the 
 councayle table, perceiving Kildare to be no 
 babe." Certainly none of the Kildares were 
 babes ; and their tongues were to the full as 
 ready at an encounter as their swords. If the 
 reader asks how far these utterances are or are 
 not strictly historical, I confess that I am at a 
 loss to reply. May one add that the matter is 
 not of any profound consequence one way or 
 other ? Written down by contemporaries, they 
 doubtless fitted well enough into the popular 
 estimate of the men, or they would not have 
 been told at all. Beyond this, who knows any- 
 thing, with absolute certainty, about anybody ? 
 1 Skull-cap (?).
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 225 
 
 Let us be thankful if a few life-like fragments 
 exist, and not scan their credentials too curiously. 
 Certitude is not for this world, and certainly is 
 not the peculiar prerogative of Ireland, or of 
 Irish historians ! 
 
 The most picturesque of the many exploits in 
 which Geroit Mor figured so prominently was 
 that famous Coronation scene which took place 
 in Dublin in the year 1487, in the presence, not 
 only of the Lord Deputy himself, but also of 
 the Lord Chancellor, the Archbishop of Dublin, 
 the Lord Birmingham of Athenry, the Lord 
 Courcy of Kinsale, the Lord Nugent of Delvin, 
 the Lord Plunket of Dunsany, and many other 
 equally important personages. 
 
 It was not apparently until the last moment 
 that it was discovered that no crown was forth- 
 coming for this ceremony Ireland having un- 
 fortunately for some time past possessed no 
 sovereign of her own ! Accordingly one was 
 hastily borrowed for the occasion from off the 
 head of a statue of the Virgin " in St. Mary's 
 Church by the Dame's Gate." Arrayed in this 
 very celestial splendour the youthful monarch 
 was mounted upon the shoulders of " Great 
 Darcy of Plattin," celebrated as the tallest 
 Irishman of his day, and so marched back to 
 the castle, all his train following. 
 
 Q
 
 226 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Who that youthful monarch really was seems 
 hardly to be known even at this day. Whether, 
 as King Henry's proclamation afterwards de- 
 clared, he was " the son of Thomas Simnel, late 
 of Oxford, joiner," seems never to have been 
 decided to the absolute satisfaction of historians. 
 In Ireland he was known at the time as Edward, 
 Earl of Warwick, son of the Duke of Clarence, 
 of Malmsey memory, who, having been born 
 in Dublin, was naturally regarded with affection 
 by its citizens. That there was another Earl 
 of Warwick alive, and in King Henry's hands, 
 was a matter which does not seem to have dis- 
 turbed anybody's mind. This one was Dublin's 
 own Warwick. This one had come to Ireland 
 escorted by Martin Swart, that famous captain of 
 mercenaries, and by two thousand German soldiers 
 tangible warriors of formidable appearance, 
 and still more formidable appetites. Above 
 all, this one was Geroit Mor's nominee, and 
 therefore Earl of Warwick he was, and King 
 he should be, if it rained Kings and Warwicks 
 elsewhere for a week or more at a time. 
 
 So it was settled, and crowned accordingly he 
 was. That ceremony over, however, Dublin 
 began to feel the weight of its own spirited 
 proceedings. To have a king of your own, 
 no dim potentate hidden away in England, but
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 227 
 
 a visible monarch, walking your own streets, 
 and being saluted by your own citizens, was 
 no doubt a very glorious possession. But to 
 have to feed two thousand mercenaries German 
 ones ! in a country already eaten up with coyne, 
 livery, and every species of exaction, was an 
 infliction not long to be endured. Active 
 operations accordingly were decided upon, no 
 less active and simple than the conquest of 
 England ! Kildare had to remain behind, see- 
 ing that Ireland would have got on badly in 
 his absence, but it was decided that his brother, 
 Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, should take command 
 of such levies as could be got together, and 
 that in company with all the late guests, he 
 should get on shipboard, cross the channel, and 
 prepare to take the field. 
 
 Off then went poor phantom King Simnel. 
 Off went Simon the priest, who was his chief 
 instructor in the part that he had to play. 
 Off went Martin Swart, and his two thousand 
 German mercenaries. Off went Lords Lovel 
 and Lincoln, two English noblemen, who had 
 come to Ireland to do homage to their new king. 
 With them went also Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, 
 who had resigned the office of Chancellor for 
 the occasion. Landing at Foudray upon the 
 4th of June, they were joined by Sir Thomas
 
 228 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Broughton, and all marched triumphantly 
 together towards Yorkshire. 
 
 They were met, however, by a crushing lack 
 of enthusiasm. " Their snowball," in Lord 
 Bacon's words, " did not gather as they went." 
 Henry, by judicious clemency, had recently won 
 popularity in the district. Scouts, stationed along 
 the coast, sent tidings to him of all that was on 
 foot. His army met Broughton and Swart 
 with their followers close jto the village of Stoke, 
 about a mile from Newark-on-Trent. The 
 fighting was severe, and lasted for three hours, 
 but force was overwhelmingly on the side of 
 the King. The Germans fought manfully ; the 
 Irish levies " did right boldly, and stuck to it 
 valiantly," but all was of no avail. The Earl 
 of Lincoln was killed ; so also was Martin 
 Swart, the leader of the German mercenaries ; so 
 likewise was Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, and nearly 
 the whole of the Irish contingent. Sir Thomas 
 Broughton, while escaping from the battle-field, 
 fell, it was said, into the Trent, and was 
 drowned. Lord Lovel disappeared, and was 
 never heard of again, tradition declaring that 
 he had been dismally starved to death in a 
 cellar in which he had hidden himself. Poor 
 phantom King Simnel also disappeared, not into 
 a cellar, but into a kitchen the royal one
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 229 
 
 whence he was destined to re-appear, very dis- 
 agreeably for his Irish supporters, in the days 
 to come. 
 
 Meantime in Dublin nothing was for a long 
 time heard of the fate of the expedition. In 
 what mood Geroit Mor waited for tidings 
 cannot be known, but may be sympathetically 
 guessed. At last they came. They could 
 scarcely have been blacker ! Ireland it seemed 
 was not to give a king to England. The whole 
 expedition had failed disastrously. Everything 
 was lost, and nearly every one concerned in it 
 was killed. The entire bubble, in short, had 
 burst, and as he pondered over the dismal 
 tidings Earl Gerald must have suspected that 
 the bursting of it could mean nothing less than 
 ruin to him and his. 
 
 That it ought to have meant ruin may fairly 
 be admitted. A few years later it certainly 
 would have meant it. Just then, however, affairs 
 were in such an extraordinarily complicated 
 condition that Henry soon found that it was 
 impossible for him to carry on the Govern- 
 ment of Ireland except with the aid of the very 
 man who had just set up a new king in his 
 stead, and had actually dispatched an army to 
 England in the hope of overthrowing him ! 
 Although another Deputy had been appointed,
 
 230 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 it soon became evident that " our Rebel, the 
 Earl of Kildare," was the only person at once 
 strong enough and popular enough to hold that 
 very difficult and troublesome post ; while on 
 the other hand " our Rebel " himself was clearly 
 quite willing to wipe out the memory of his late 
 unfortunate^asco as soon and as thoroughly as 
 might be. 
 
 Upon these terms of mutual interest a pact 
 accordingly was made. Henry agreed to pardon 
 the Earl, and even to continue him as his 
 Deputy. On the other side Kildare undertook 
 to sign a fresh oath of allegiance ; to abstain 
 from similar transgressions in the future ; and 
 to cross within twelve months to England, 
 there to make his submission in person. 
 
 The better to ratify this pact, the King deter- 
 mined to send as his Irish Commissioner the 
 comptroller of his household, Sir Richard Edge- 
 combe, from whose diary we learn all that then 
 occurred. 1 This part of the programme was 
 anything but acceptable, however, to the proud 
 taste of Geroit Mor. To have to await the 
 Commissioner's arrival ; to receive him upon 
 the shore, and escort him respectfully through 
 
 1 "The Voyage of Sir Richard Edgecombe, Kt., sent 
 by the King's Grace into Ireland." Printed in Harris's 
 Hibernica, Dublin, 1747, p. 26.
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 23* 
 
 the streets of Dublin those streets which had 
 recently witnessed such a very different pageant 
 was not a part in which he saw himself 
 performing ! He did not hesitate for a moment. 
 Sir Richard Edgecombe was to sail at the end 
 of June, and early in July Geroit Mor announced 
 his intention of starting for a pilgrimage to the 
 shrine of the Miraculous Virgin of Trim. And 
 thither three days later he departed, taking his 
 usual bodyguard of some two hundred horse- 
 men along with him. 
 
 Meanwhile Sir Richard had sailed from Corn- 
 wall in a ship called the Anne of Fowey, with 
 a convoy of three smaller vessels, and five 
 hundred soldiers as a guard. Touching first at 
 Kinsale and Waterford towns which, being in 
 fierce opposition to the Deputy, received him 
 with open arms he proceeded to Dublin, en- 
 countering on his way " contraryous winds," so 
 that only, he tells us, with " grate painn and 
 perill " he succeeded at last in reaching Lambay 
 Island, where his vessel cast anchor. 
 
 Here he was met by the news of the Viceroy's 
 absence ! Absent, and at such a moment ? For 
 what reason ? Upon a pious pilgrimage it was 
 explained ; the Earl of Kildare, as all men 
 knew, being a very religious nobleman. The 
 days of pious pilgrimages were by no means yet
 
 232 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 over, so that Sir Richard had to put up with 
 the excuse, and to digest his wrath as he best 
 might. It soon appeared that there was very 
 little else for him to digest, and this was an 
 additional offence. To arrive spent, sore, weary, 
 sea-sick, and to find this sort of greeting ! To 
 be received with this sort of welcome ! Yet 
 there are people who pretend that Ireland is a 
 hospitable country ! 
 
 Fortunately " the Ladye of Sir Peter Talbot," 
 lord of Malahide, took pity upon the King's 
 Commissioner, brought him to her own house, 
 fed, and comforted him. Next day, Sir Richard 
 rode to Dublin, where he was received by 
 the mayor and principal citizens, who accom- 
 panied him to the Dominican Friary, where he 
 was to take up his quarters during his temporary 
 stay. As for the Earl of Kildare, he neither 
 appeared, nor sent, nor gave the slightest indica- 
 tion of being aware that anything unusual was 
 afoot ! 
 
 Five days did Sir Richard Edgecombe remain 
 nursing his wrath amongst the Dominicans 
 "to his gret costs and chargis," as he specially 
 insisted that the King should be informed. 
 Never since Royal Commissioners were invented 
 had one been treated in so scurvy a fashion ! 
 If he did not yearn to convert that Royal Pardon,
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 233 
 
 of which he was the bearer, into a Royal Warrant 
 for hanging and quartering, he must have been 
 more than mortal. Fume as he might, there 
 was nothing, moreover, to be done but to wait 
 until the Deputy chose to come back. Despite 
 of all that had occurred, Geroit Mor was still 
 the King's representative in Ireland, and, if he 
 insisted upon visiting shrines and saying his 
 prayers till Christmas, Sir Richard must sit and 
 devour his impatience as he best could amongst 
 the Dominicans until he returned. 
 
 At last, upon July 12, Geroit Mor came 
 riding quietly into Dublin, followed by his two 
 hundred horsemen, and took up his abode at his 
 residence of St. Thomas's Abbey, or, as it was 
 then called, Thomas Court. 
 
 Here, as soon as he had shaken off the dust 
 of his journey, he dispatched the Bishop of 
 Meath, accompanied by Lord Slane, to summon 
 the King's Commissioner into his presence. 
 Upon his arrival at Thomas Court, Sir Richard 
 was received in the "great chamber of the 
 Abbey," Lord Nugent of Courcy, Lord Plunket, 
 and other members of the Council all enthusi- 
 astic supporters of the late King Simnel being 
 present. The King's Commissioner and the 
 King's Deputy were at last face to face. 
 
 The meeting which followed these unusual
 
 234 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 preliminaries was hardly to be called cordial. 
 In his own report of the proceedings Sir Richard 
 expressly informs us that he delivered the King's 
 letter to the Earl "with no Reverencies or 
 Courtesie," also that he made a short speech 
 " not without Bitternesse." Bitterness indeed 
 it would have been hard to grudge him under 
 the circumstances, if he found it to be any 
 comfort. Moreover, his troubles were by no 
 means even yet over. No business was to be 
 proceeded with upon that day. Certain of the 
 Lords of the Council, he was told, were still 
 absent, consequently everything must be deferred 
 till they arrived. The next day was a Sunday, 
 and Sir Richard and the Deputy attended mass 
 together at Christ Church, the same church in 
 which King Simnel had been crowned the year 
 before, and, as on that occasion, the sermon was 
 preached by " Payne, the lord Bushopp of 
 Meathe," who was a devoted friend and 
 adherent of the Earl of Kildare. 
 
 Monday, July 14, was the day fixed for the 
 Deputy and the other Lords of the Council to 
 sign the new bond, they undertaking in it to 
 become " the King's true Subjects," and being 
 bound over in as " good Surety as could be 
 devised by the Laws," and receiving in return 
 their pardons. On Monday, however, the Deputy
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 235 
 
 informed the Commissioner that it would be 
 advisable in his opinion that the oaths should 
 be taken at Maynooth Castle, instead of in 
 Dublin. It was a more convenient spot, he 
 said, for the distant members of the Council to 
 assemble in. In short, better in every way. 
 
 Sir Richard remonstrated indignantly, but 
 Geroit Mor was not to be withstood. It was 
 indispensable, he said, that he should go to 
 Maynooth himself at once, and it was equally 
 indispensable that Sir Richard should go there 
 with him as his guest. It went to his honour 
 that the King's Chamberlain and High Com- 
 missioner should lodge under any roof but his 
 own. In vain Sir Richard protested against 
 this somewhat belated hospitality. In vain he 
 pointed out that Dublin, not Maynooth, was 
 supposed to be the seat of the Irish Government. 
 He might have spared his breath. The Earl 
 of Kildare's mind was made up, and the rest 
 of the world had nothing to do but to 
 obey. 
 
 The irregularity of the proceeding was enough 
 to turn any courtier's hair grey, but there was 
 no help for it. The Lords of the Council 
 were all getting upon their horses, and starting 
 across the fields for Maynooth. The King's 
 Commissioner was forced to mount and depart
 
 236 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 also, carrying his pardons, and his other official 
 gear, along with him. 
 
 The road between Thomas Court and the 
 castle of Maynooth must have been a tolerably 
 well frequented one in those days. The distance 
 was only about a dozen miles, and there was a 
 fair road in summer-time, if you chose to keep 
 to it, and at all times a pleasant green plain 
 to ride over. Thither rode the Earl and the 
 Commissioner side by side, followed by their 
 respective trains, and in a short time the fires 
 in the castle were blazing, the boards spread, 
 and Sir Richard was being regaled, as he him- 
 self admitted, with much " righte good Cheer." 
 This was upon the I4th of July, and upon the 
 1 5th, we have the satisfaction of knowing that 
 Sir Richard " had agen gret Cheer of the Erie." 
 The members of the Council had by this time 
 nearly all assembled at Maynooth, and they and 
 Kildare were observed to hold " gret Com- 
 munications among themselves." Further than 
 this, nothing however was done. So the I5th 
 and the i6th passed. Upon the iyth, the Com- 
 missioner's patience fairly boiled over. Did 
 they intend to sign the bond, or did they not ? 
 he wanted to know, speaking, he tells us, " with 
 righte fell and angry Words." The same after- 
 noon he again told them " righte plainly and
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 237 
 
 sharply of their unfitting Demeaning," the re- 
 sult of which remonstrance was that the whole 
 party got upon their horses, and rode back 
 to Dublin, having so far achieved absolutely 
 nothing. 
 
 Next day, the i8th of July, matters came 
 to a climax. The members of the Council had 
 now thoroughly made up their minds. They 
 were not going to sign the bond, and so they 
 told Sir Richard plainly. They were sorry to 
 displease him, but it was out of the question. 
 Anything else they were willing to do, but 
 not this, and that for an excellent, though un- 
 avowable reason. If they did, all their estates 
 would be forfeited to the King upon the next 
 little occasion of the kind. In vain the Com- 
 missioner threatened them with his master's 
 displeasure. They replied that they were ready 
 to take oath to become the King's true lieges, 
 and to be bound over " in good Suretys," such 
 as he might approve of, but sign such a bond 
 they would not. Rather than that they would 
 prefer to become " Irysh, every one of them." 
 
 This formidable threat seems to have settled 
 the matter. Sir Richard was forced to give in. 
 Possibly he may have received instructions that 
 he might do so if he found the particular point 
 impossible to carry. In any case he now drew
 
 238 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 up such a form of oath as he considered to be 
 the most binding under the circumstances, and 
 sent it to the Lords for their approval. This 
 was upon the I9th. Next day it was agreed to, 
 and the whole party met in council in the 
 " King's Chambir " at Thomas Court. Here 
 the Earl of Kildare went through the form of 
 homage to Sir Richard Edgecombe, as repre- 
 senting the King, the rest of the Lords of the 
 Council following suit. A gold chain, " the 
 Collar of the King's Livery," was laid upon 
 the Earl's neck, and mass was said, Sir Richard 
 being particularly careful to have the elements 
 consecrated by his own chaplain. After this 
 the whole party adjourned to the church of the 
 monastery, where a Te Deum was said, the bells 
 of the church were rung, " and the Choir with 
 the Organs sung it up solemnly." The ceremony 
 wound up by a dinner given at the Friary. 
 
 Thankful to have finished the matter on any 
 terms, the Commissioner next day rode to 
 Drogheda, from whence he returned upon the 
 28th, and on the 29th Kildare handed in his 
 certificate of allegiance, duly signed and wit- 
 nessed, and received in return the King's pardon 
 under the Great Seal. This was the last scene. 
 Reconciliation and loyalty were now supposed 
 to have settled down for good upon Ireland.
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 239 
 
 All who had taken part in the late Simnel 
 rising were to be forgiven, with the exception 
 of Keating, the prior of Kilmainham, whose 
 offence appears to have been regarded as pecu- 
 liarly heinous, though how he can have steeped 
 himself much deeper in treason than the rest 
 of his neighbours it is not very easy to see. 
 
 Eager to avoid further delays, Sir Richard 
 rode off the same day to Dalkey, where his 
 ships were lying at anchor. The winds, how- 
 ever, he tells us in his diary, were again " con- 
 traryous," and he had to remain there for nearly 
 another week. At last he sailed, and after eight 
 days' tossing, and many " perillous jeopardies," 
 landed once more in Cornwall. Here by way 
 perhaps of thanksgiving for having ever re- 
 turned at all he in his turn went upon a 
 pilgrimage to the " Chappell of Saint Saviour," 
 at that time the most highly reputed of all 
 Cornish shrines. And so the long tragi-comedy 
 of Rebellion and Pardon came to an end. 
 
 And here too for us the story of Geroit Mor 
 must end, although his further adventures will 
 be found to be at least equally well worth follow- 
 ing. They must be looked for, however, in the 
 right place, seeing that the little space which 
 remains to us is required for the adventures of 
 another Irish hero, in whose history, even more
 
 2 4 o TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 than in that of the great Geraldine, we find 
 traces of that all-saving admixture of the 
 humorous, which is elsewhere in Irish history 
 so lamentably and so inexplicably wanting. 
 
 Wherein the point of this particular jest lies 
 it may be as well to explain, seeing that no two 
 people have ever yet agreed as to what is or is 
 not humorous. To my mind, then, it lies mainly 
 in the fact of the relative strength and import- 
 ance of the two antagonists who appear before 
 us. These two were on the one hand that 
 picturesque, if rather flowery and ineffectual 
 personage, Richard II., King of England, Wales, 
 and France ; Lord of Acquitaine, Ireland, 
 and a few other principalities, backed by an 
 army of nearly thirty thousand men a pro- 
 digiously fine force, it will be understood, for 
 those days. On the other hand there was his 
 own rebellious subject, Arthur Kavanagh of 
 Wexford ; known to his familiars as Art, to 
 his tribesmen as the MacMurrough, and to his 
 flatterers as the King of Leinster ; the undisputed 
 ruler of some fourteen or fifteen hundred gallo- 
 glasses, mostly without shoes or stockings, all 
 without proper arms or training. Nor is the 
 point of the jest blunted by the fact that it was 
 the latter, and not the former, who eventually 
 remained master of the field.
 
 IRISH HISTORY AS A PASTIME 241 
 
 Froissart, who rarely falls below his opportuni- 
 ties for picturesque reporting, and who has left 
 us a number of very piquant details with regard 
 to King Richard and his Court, stints us of our 
 meed of gossip when that monarch goes to 
 Ireland. This was unavoidable, seeing that the 
 great chronicler never himself set foot in that 
 island, and was obliged to fall back upon 
 second-hand, and consequently inferior, inform- 
 ation. The most trustworthy of his informants 
 appears to have been one Castide, a gentleman 
 originally in the train of the Earl of Ormond, 
 who having been taken prisoner by the Irish, 
 and retained by them for some time, was able 
 for the rest of his life to fill the responsible post 
 of interpreter to the Irish Court. In spite of 
 having married a Wexford woman during his 
 captivity, his bias is clearly of the Pale all com- 
 pact, and must be taken therefore with due 
 caution. Between the lines we may however, I 
 think, discern a more or less vivid picture of 
 the times, and in any case must be thankful in 
 these matters for what we can get. Here, then, 
 as I read it, possibly not quite accurately ! 
 runs the tale.
 
 THE SONG 
 OF ART KAVANAGH 
 
 OH, 'tis well to be a king's heir, and ride across 
 
 the land 
 With twenty score of archers, and knights on 
 
 either hand. 
 
 Sing the battle song of Art ! 
 
 But the fighting men of Wexford know how 
 to use the sword, 
 
 And the loyal knights of Mortimer are seek- 
 ing for their lord ! 
 
 Sing the battle song of Art ! 
 
 Oh, 'tis well to be a king, and to sail across 
 
 the sea 
 With twenty thousand archers, and great lords 
 
 at your knee. 
 
 Sing the battle song of Art / 
 
 But the Wexford woods are deep, and the 
 
 Wexford trees are tall, 
 And when next their leaves are falling they 
 
 may cover one and all ! 
 
 Sing the battle song of Art ! 
 242
 
 HOW ART KAVANAGH OF WEXFORD 
 FOUGHT RICHARD THE KING 
 
 I 
 
 THE Pale was all on fire again ! There had 
 been raids at Rathcoole, at Newcastle, and at 
 the Naas ; raids at Trim, at Dunshauglin, and 
 over the greater part of Fingal. The O'Byrnes, 
 the O'Keefes, the O'Nolans, were all out, and 
 swarming over the country like hornets. Calvagh 
 O'Toole, who not long before had assailed the 
 English in Leinster, and had caused " six score 
 of their heads," says his native chronicler, " to 
 be carried in triumph before him," was again 
 upon the war-path and might be expected to 
 repeat that performance. Worse still, Art 
 Kavanagh was known to have recently left his 
 head-quarters at Wexford, and to be out some- 
 where with all his young men at his heels, and 
 though nobody upon the English side knew 
 
 243
 
 244 
 
 exactly where he was, that only made matters 
 more unpleasant, since wherever you would wish 
 him not to be, there you might be certain he 
 would presently be found. 
 
 Barely three years had come and gone since 
 
 King Richard himself had left Ireland, having 
 
 remained there for ten months, and held high 
 
 state in Dublin, feasting himself and others, as 
 
 a king should do. To him had come all the 
 
 greater chiefs, who, having sworn fealty, had 
 
 accepted knighthood at his hands ; not, it must 
 
 be said, without some demur on their part, 
 
 they declaring loudly that knighthood in their 
 
 country was invariably bestowed at the age of 
 
 ten, or even younger so soon, in fact, as a lad 
 
 had shown any signs of spirit and that it was 
 
 a toy therefore, unfit for grown men and bearded 
 
 warriors. Seeing, however, that Ard-Righ made 
 
 such a point of the matter, they in the end 
 
 submitted with a fairly good grace, even Art 
 
 Kavanagh keeping his vigils the grim penitent ! 
 
 in Christ Church Cathedral. Next day, " clad 
 
 in a silk garment edged with fur," he had been 
 
 feasted at the King's own table, with the O'Neil 
 
 from the North on his right hand, and the 
 
 O'Connor Faley from mid-Leinster on his left, 
 
 while Mr. Interpreter Castide, through whose 
 
 eyes Froissart saw the scene, and has described
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 245 
 
 it to us, bustled from one chief to another, 
 anxious that his pupils should do credit to his 
 instructions on this great occasion. The English 
 Privy Council meanwhile were writing to con- 
 gratulate their lord the King upon the success 
 with which he had won over " le O'Nel," 
 and that still more desperate person " le grand 
 Macmourg." The monarch himself, clad in 
 a " cote of gold and stone," and looking as 
 comely as a prince in a fairy tale, smiling no 
 doubt, and reflecting upon how easy it was to 
 manage this country, so Jong as you had the 
 sense to come over to it yourself, and not trust 
 everything, as his grandfather had done, to 
 fellows like De Bracy, or De Courcy, or De 
 Burgh, whose interest it was to make the worst 
 of every trifling disorder, the better to magnify 
 their own office, and the larger amount to extort 
 out of your already cruelly deplenished treasury. 
 All this was quite as it ought to be, but then 
 it was already three whole years ago, and three 
 years leave room for a good many disastrous 
 changes, especially in Ireland ! It was Richard 
 himself who began the mischief by being foolish 
 enough to put Art in prison for some trifling 
 offence whilst still his guest ; and although the 
 imprisonment had been but nominal, it had been 
 quite enough to infuriate that fiery warrior, and
 
 246 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 thoroughly to undo any impression which might 
 have been produced upon him by previous 
 civilities. 
 
 Like many great personages, Richard, how- 
 ever, never believed in harm accruing from any 
 action which he personally was good enough 
 to undertake. Accordingly he sailed away to 
 England with great complacency, to see after 
 the Lollards, who were known to be badly in 
 need just then of burning, leaving his cousin, 
 Roger of March, to look after this part of his 
 kingdom in his absence ; to follow in his own 
 footsteps, and generally to manage Ireland in 
 the manner approved by those who had the 
 charge of her. 
 
 A very important young man was Roger, 
 Earl of March, seeing that by right of his 
 mother he nominally owned the greater part of 
 Ulster, with a large slice of Connaught to boot. 
 Indeed, if he could have come by his rights, a 
 good fifth of Ireland would at that moment 
 have been his private property, not to mention 
 that, upon the death of his cousin Richard, he 
 was bound to succeed to the crown of England, 
 with all the pleasant things thereto appertaining. 
 
 Out of Dublin he rode upon a certain morn- 
 ing early in July, full of hope and confidence, 
 and many knights with him, and a long train of
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 247 
 
 soldiery stretching after them like the tail of a 
 comet. Seldom had a gallanter party ridden 
 out of those gates, or one in better spirits ; for, 
 so far as they knew, they had only the O'Tooles 
 and the O'Byrnes in front of them, who might 
 be expected to run like their own mountain 
 sheep at the mere wind and whiff of all those 
 gleaming swords. Yet the looks of the few 
 people they passed were more scowling than 
 admiring, and there was less fear than hate in 
 their eyes. And one old hag, as they rode past 
 her cabin, getting upon a log of wood, cried 
 shrilly, " Vo ! vo ! Manam an diaoul^ but I can 
 see the skean that is lifted to slit that white 
 skin of yours ! Manam an diaoul, I know 
 one that will outrun that horse of yours, and 
 will pluck you from it and crush you, as I might 
 crush a ripe droneen upon the bogs. Vo ! TO ! 
 Manam an diaoul ! Manam an diaoul ! " 
 
 So she screeched, looking straight at the 
 young Viceroy. Happily it was all in Irish, 
 so that he and the knights merely smiled, and 
 observed to one another in Norman-French that 
 our lord the King had queer subjects upon this 
 side of the Channel, and that such an ill- 
 looking crone as yonder were better tossed into 
 a bog-hole to see would she sink, which, judging 
 by her looks, seemed scarce probable. Soon
 
 248 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 they forgot her, however, having more im- 
 portant matters on hand, and so reached the 
 castle under whose roof the first night of their 
 expedition was to be spent. Here the horses 
 were unsaddled ; the men-at-arms bustled about, 
 and Roger and his knights gathered into the 
 central hall, where a fire was lit, for, though 
 the month was July, it was damp enough. 
 And they ate, and they drank, and made such 
 merriment as they could, while the ghost of 
 the former inhabitants of the place scurried 
 away into dark corners, not liking such goings 
 on. 
 
 So all went well, and promised well for the 
 morrow. About seven o'clock the same even- 
 ing, however, there came a sudden rattling at 
 the outer gates, and six kerns belonging to the 
 nearest loyalist, a good man but a timid one, 
 rushed in, their cheeks hanging with terror, to 
 say that Art MacMurrough of Wexford had 
 appeared with all his men, and had been seen 
 from the top of the nearest hill ; that he was 
 burning all the villages before him, and that at 
 the rate he was travelling, he would probably 
 by this time have got as far as Kells. 
 
 Now this was perfectly unexpected news, 
 and unexpected things are rarely pleasant ones, 
 especially in Ireland. Nevertheless, Roger Mor-
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 249 
 
 timer rose to the occasion, and showed no 
 unbecoming discomfiture. He was not a par- 
 ticularly brilliant young man, so far as has been 
 recorded ; still he was a Plantagenet, and it was 
 not likely that any Plantagenet would turn 
 tail before even the wildest of wild Irishmen. 
 Accordingly he summoned his armourer, and 
 ordered his war harness to be gone over, and all 
 its joints duly tried. And he called a council of 
 war, and arranged that all should be in readiness 
 to start early the next morning. And by five 
 o'clock, no later for even self-indulgent young 
 gentlemen, and heirs to a kingdom, had to be 
 bustling in those days he was in the saddle, 
 and spurring fast along the way, with all his 
 merry men following close behind him. 
 
 II 
 
 WHETHER Roger of March's horse stumbled 
 that morning as he was starting, or whether a 
 single crow flew across his path, or whether his 
 nose bled, or his sword slipped out of its scabbard, 
 or what other portents befell him cannot now 
 be known, though no doubt the chroniclers of 
 the day must have recorded them in the fullest 
 detail, since it is impossible that any one so
 
 250 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 important could have got into such serious 
 trouble without something of the sort happen- 
 ing to warn him. When he had ridden about 
 a dozen miles he caused his men to halt, 
 for they were coming to an awkward bit of 
 country. A considerable bog lay in front of 
 them, which would not at all suit the horses, 
 and was about as unpleasant a place as it was 
 possible for a knight in armour to get over- 
 thrown in, since there he was likely to lie like 
 a turtle, getting deeper and deeper the more 
 he struggled to escape, till perhaps some Irish- 
 man with a skean came along that way, to make 
 matters worse. 
 
 Westward, where the ground was firmer, lay 
 a wood ; not a large one, but still thick enough 
 not to be able to be seen through. Now it was 
 a point of some importance to ascertain whether 
 Art Kavanagh and the O'Tooles had as yet 
 joined forces, since, if they had not done so, it 
 would be much easier to fight them separately ; 
 nay, they might even save trouble by first 
 fighting one another, leaving only the victor 
 to be dealt with. Unfortunately there was a 
 great dearth of spies just then upon the King's 
 side, but some turf-cutters they had captured had 
 reported that a large body of Irish was lying in 
 wait for the Viceroy in a wood upon the other
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 251 
 
 side of a bog. Was this the place meant, and 
 if so, what sized force could be lying concealed 
 there ? The Viceroy held a hasty council, 
 consisting chiefly of young men for he had 
 few others with him and the unanimous 
 decision they arrived at was that no force of 
 any size could possibly be concealed in such a 
 place ; the wood being, as was plain to be seen, 
 so thin, and the region around it so clear, and so 
 open. 
 
 Now this only shows the disadvantage of 
 fighting in a country with which you are im- 
 perfectly acquainted, as well as against foes of 
 whose mode of warfare all you know is that 
 it is utterly savage, and quite unworthy the 
 consideration of a knight and a Plantagenet ! 
 Scarcely had Roger and his soldiers advanced 
 towards the wood before there arose a howl 
 from it as if all the wolves in Ireland were 
 breaking loose. And out of the wood rushed 
 a crowd of foot-soldiers, and down they came 
 towards where the heir of England was advanc- 
 ing, with all his knights behind him, and that 
 unpleasant, squelching bog immediately in front 
 of them. After these came a crowd of wild 
 horsemen, who had been hidden behind a ridge 
 of scraws, each man riding his chief war-horse, 
 worth at the very least two hundred cows apiece.
 
 252 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 Saddleless they rode, with brass bits, and sliding 
 reins, and in front of them rode a horseman upon 
 a big black horse, which was known throughout 
 the length and breadth of Ireland. Coal-black 
 was its colour, and it stood over eighteen hands 
 high, and its name in Irish was ten syllables 
 long, and meant " The Tree Leaper," and its 
 value was reported to be six hundred cows, or 
 rather that would have been its value, only that 
 Art Kavanagh got it for nothing, having carried 
 it off from its owner upon one of his Munster 
 raids. 
 
 Upon the Tree Leaper rode Art himself, 
 carrying a big, iron-tipped spear in his hands. 
 " A man of great stature, very fell and ferocious 
 to the eye," says Castide, who knew him well. 
 " He rode," says another eye-witness, describing 
 him at Arklow, " so that never in all my life, I 
 declare to you, did I see hare, sheep, deer, or 
 any other animal run with such speed." In this 
 fashion he rode now ; with his horsemen follow- 
 ing behind him, and the kerns and galloglasses 
 swarming barefooted towards the bog. As for 
 the English, caught in this very uncomfortable 
 trap, they tried to steady themselves, and wished 
 no doubt with all their hearts for a good bit of 
 firm ground " long heath, brown furze, any- 
 thing," so that they could only find their feet
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 253 
 
 solidly beneath them. Young Roger put him- 
 self gallantly in front of his men, and presently, 
 with a clash that was heard three miles away, 
 the two forces closed, and such was the con- 
 fusion that for a time no one knew how the 
 battle went, or who had the best of it, for every- 
 thing was a tangle, and wild bewilderment ; with 
 horses rearing, and swords clashing, and spears 
 flashing, and all the tug and actual physical 
 contact of war, as it existed before big cannons 
 and Enfield rifles came to spoil it. Presently, 
 however, there was a lull, for the Irish fashion 
 of fighting was to make one of these tremendous 
 rushes, and then to draw back and prepare for 
 another. Back went Art to the wood, and his 
 men after him, leaving a clear space, heaped up 
 with the dead and the dying. And then there 
 arose a long, loud cry upon the royal side, for 
 alas for the hopes of England ! amongst 
 those who were lying face uppermost upon the 
 soil was no less a personage than the Heir 
 Apparent himself ! 
 
 A dozen knights flew to pick him up, but 
 too late, for his blood was flowing fast, and 
 Art's big, iron-tipped spear was sticking out of 
 his side a little way above the heart. And 
 whether he uttered any last words must be left 
 to be guessed, but most likely he uttered none,
 
 254 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 but met his death as every man must, whether 
 out of doors with his armour on, or in bed with 
 the blankets smoothed round his chin. Indeed 
 there was scant leisure for any leave-taking, for 
 before any one could breathe, Art MacMur- 
 rough was out of the wood again, and was charg- 
 ing more furiously than before. And this time, 
 whether from finding themselves overmatched, 
 or from not liking the nature of the ground, or 
 from discouragement at the death of their leader, 
 the English waited no longer, but fled at full 
 speed. And many fell into the bog, and were 
 slain, and many more were overtaken, and killed 
 in the open, and only the best mounted, cutting 
 their way past Art, rode back the way they 
 had come, and in due time reached Dublin. 
 Here, the gates being flung open for them, 
 in they went, the first that entered carrying 
 with him the dead body of young Roger of 
 March, hanging limply, head downwards, over 
 his saddle-bow. 
 
 Ill 
 
 LET the reader imagine for himself the return 
 of Art. Kavanagh to Wexford after these events ! 
 Let him picture the march through the inter-
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 255 
 
 vening glades ; the exultant tribesmen laden with 
 booty, driving before them herds swept from the 
 " obedient shires " to swell their own droves ; 
 the triumphant screeching of the bagpipes, the 
 wild whooping, the hurroushing. Then, as they 
 drew nearer home, let him picture the rushing 
 out of the women, their yellow cloaks floating 
 behind them, their hair flying in the wind. 
 Truly a great day for Wexford ! almost great 
 enough to wash out the stain of the invasion, 
 since had Ireland never been invaded, the heir 
 to the crown of England could clearly never have 
 fallen beneath the spear of the MacMurrough. 
 
 But that doughty warrior himself was no fool, 
 and he knew very well that England was not 
 utterly out of reach, and that a day of reckoning 
 would come, and that, when it came, it would 
 probably be an awkward one to meet. He cast 
 about therefore for some combination which 
 could be brought to bear upon the common 
 enemy ; not an easy thing to find in a country 
 where no two chiefs ever combined together for 
 a week without becoming deadly foes before 
 the Sunday morning. 
 
 In the end he made up his mind to send to 
 Turlough O'Brien, son of Murrough-na-Raith- 
 nighe O'Brien, Prince of Thomond, who was sib 
 to himself upon the mother's side, and to urge
 
 256 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 him to get ready all his young men, so as to be 
 able at any moment to sally across the Shannon 
 upon the Butlers, thereby creating a diversion. 
 For this errand it was necessary to choose a 
 messenger with some care, for between Wexford 
 and Thomond lay the whole width of Ireland, 
 a tract beset with worse snares for travellers 
 than probably any similar extent of mid-Africa 
 to-day. The messenger he finally decided to 
 send was his own foster brother's son, Felim, 
 the son of Liag. Having mounted him, there- 
 fore, upon the best horse, next to the Tree 
 Leaper, in his possession a raw-boned bay, with 
 the temper of a fiend, but the speed of an Arab, 
 and the endurance of an ox and having taught 
 him the message he was to deliver, he sent him 
 on his way with this parting injunction : 
 
 " Repeat what I have said to Turlough, son 
 of Murrough-na-Raithnighe, and sixty cows and 
 thrice sixty calves are thine on thy return. 
 Miss it by one word, and thy head joins those " 
 a row of grisly mementoes of the late raid 
 " and all thine with thee. I, Art, the son of 
 Art, have spoken." 
 
 Hearing this, Felim MacLiag probably laughed, 
 and rode off in the best of spirits, for as for 
 those parting threats, they were only the common 
 amenities of the time, and meant no more than
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 257 
 
 that he was to do his best, and not loiter too 
 long by the road. 
 
 On he went over the undulating country, 
 till he came to the river Barrow, which he 
 crossed by the ford called Graiguenamanagh. 
 And now he had to go warily, for this was the 
 boundary of the Ormond country, and since 
 Art's capture of New Ross, or Ros-mic-Triuin, 
 as it was then called, a messenger of his would 
 have fared extremely badly in Butler hands. 
 
 Soon he was out upon the level country, 
 with the broad limestone plain of Ireland lying 
 around him ; one green esker after another 
 stretching away like Atlantic waves that had 
 grown stiff and grassy. As he rode along, the 
 cattle raced away like deer before him. There 
 were no sheep, for unless protected by sheep- 
 folds, their only use would have been to feed 
 the wolves. Crows, stalking over the grass, 
 rose with hoarse caws as he galloped towards 
 them. Magpies there were none, nor yet a 
 single frog in any of the pools, for neither of 
 these were introduced until many a century 
 later. 
 
 By noon he came to the beginning of the 
 forest country. And here, in native parlance, 
 he had to wear his eyes upon sticks, for the 
 
 wood kerns in those parts were remarkably 
 
 s
 
 258 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 awkward people to meet with, whether nomin- 
 ally under the rule of the great house of 
 Ormond, or merely reiving and raiding on their 
 own account. And well was it for him that he 
 was on the alert, for, before he had ridden a 
 mile under the boughs, six big fellows sprang 
 at him, shouting " Butler a boo ! " and one 
 made a clutch at his rein, and the rest flung a 
 shower of knives at him, and although he rode 
 for his life, and in the end got away from them, 
 one of the knives stuck fast, and, when he 
 looked down, there it was sticking like a big 
 thorn in his bridle arm. 
 
 After this he had to cross another river, and 
 make a long circuit to avoid more Butlers. 
 And about six in the evening, his arm being 
 sore, and the stock of food he had started with 
 exhausted, he ventured to stop at a village ; 
 knowing that he was probably by this time in 
 the country of the O'Carrols, who, as it 
 happened, were just then friendly with Art. 
 
 The village lay in the centre of the forest, 
 the houses being built wholly of wood, con- 
 structed beehive fashion, round a stake in the 
 centre, and wattled ; the chinks being filled up 
 with mud. Here the dogs barked at him, and 
 the children hooted, but the women drove them 
 away, and gave him food oaten bread and a
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 259 
 
 bit of meat after which, fearing to delay, he 
 rode on again till nine o'clock, when it grew 
 too dark to enable him to make his way. 
 Accordingly he dismounted, and lay down to 
 sleep, with the bay cropping near him, and glad 
 enough, no doubt, by this time to be allowed to 
 stand still. 
 
 Felim awoke, however, before the first streaks 
 of dawn were beginning to peer over the tree- 
 tops. And very likely he wished for some 
 breakfast, but having none, was forced to go on 
 without any, and, having no saddle to put on 
 the bay, he simply leapt upon its back, and 
 away again as fast as he could go to the west. 
 And in the course of time he perceived the 
 Shannon spreading below him, and so got to 
 O'Brien's bridge, at that time the only one in 
 those parts, and a bad bridge for any man who was 
 not a friend of the O'Briens to attempt to cross. 
 And not long after crossing it he found himself 
 amongst the stony wastes, and bright blue lakes, 
 of Thomond, with the Atlantic sleeping in the 
 distance ; by which time both the bay and him- 
 self must have felt as if a considerable time had 
 passed over their heads since they started so 
 blithely from Wexford.
 
 260 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 IV 
 
 AND now another year has come and gone, 
 and great events are happening upon the other 
 side of the island. King Richard himself has 
 come again ; sailing over from England with 
 such a convoy of ships, such a muster of knights, 
 and such a gathering of archers and men-at- 
 arms as never were seen before in Ireland, and has 
 anchored under the walls of Waterford. And 
 now everybody believed that Art Kavanagh's 
 hour had surely come ! 
 
 Nothing could appear to be more convenient, 
 either, than such a landing-place. The rebel's 
 country was close at hand. A few hours' riding, 
 and that ragged forest edge, behind which he 
 was known to be ensconced, lay full in sight. 
 
 Was Art panic-stricken ? Was he struck 
 helpless at the sight of this great armament 
 gathered together to crush him ? It looked at 
 first as though he were. Not a sign of life did 
 he give, not a kern of his showed, not a single 
 horseman was to be seen. Even the town of 
 Carlow, which he had held for the last two years, 
 was left undefended, ready for the new-comers 
 to take possession of. The entire region seemed 
 to have grown suddenly depopulated. Where
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 261 
 
 a few weeks before great herds of cattle were 
 grazing, with bare-legged urchins at their heels, 
 not a sign now of boys or of beasts was to be 
 seen. The King had apparently nothing to do 
 but to make a progress over the country, and 
 then retire to Dublin, having attained all that 
 he came to Ireland to accomplish. 
 
 Unfortunately for himself that highly orna- 
 mental monarch was utterly deficient in all the 
 qualities that go to make a leader, " loving best," 
 as an historian of the day tells us, " those coun- 
 cillors which did advise him worst." Disorder 
 was at that moment rampant behind him in 
 England. The law was utterly in abeyance ; 
 highwaymen abounded ; farmers were pillaged ; 
 bishops and great lords were forced to take refuge 
 in the towns from the disorders of the country. 
 People, we are told by the same historian, were 
 everywhere saying openly, "We have a good- 
 for-nothing King, and the time is come that we 
 seek for a remedy." The Londoners, who from 
 various causes were just then in the ascendant, 
 especially complained. "They spoke one to 
 another," says Froissart, " of what had hap- 
 pened in the second Edward's time, for the 
 children of those days, become men, had often 
 been told about them by their fathers, and 
 others had read them in the chronicles of the
 
 262 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 times, and they said openly : l They provided a 
 remedy, and now it is our turn.' ' 
 
 How far Art knew of all this, and knew, there- 
 fore, that time would prove his best friend, or 
 how far he merely followed his own time- 
 immemorial fashion of warfare, must be left to 
 be guessed. Certain it is that during the next 
 six weeks he led Richard of Bordeaux a pretty 
 dance amongst those Wexford and Carlow 
 woods ! The King " sat down " before them, 
 but trees not being forts, the sitting down process 
 produced no very perceptible results. His huge 
 army of 20,000 archers and 4000 men-at-arms 
 presently began to starve. Then an order was 
 given for them to advance, and the big, unwieldy 
 mass did try to advance, but got promptly 
 entangled in the coppices, and all but lost in the 
 blinding jungle of trees, where never yet an axe 
 had swung, or a saw been plied. The King 
 swore that he would cut down the whole forest, 
 but it may easily be guessed how far he got in 
 that operation. He had not much local advice 
 to fall back upon either, for Felim MacLiag's 
 mission had prospered to the uttermost, and the 
 O'Briens had long ere this come swarming 
 across their bridge, and were giving the 
 Butlers, and other loyalists in mid-Leinster, 
 quite as much as they could do to hold
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 263 
 
 their own, without lending any help to their 
 master. 
 
 Seeing how matters were going, Art presently 
 began to sally out, and take the initiative. He 
 had barely 3000 men with him, but then he was 
 at home, and, in such warfare as this, that is 
 an advantage which outweighs nearly all others. 
 As the King's army moved on he waylaid the 
 stragglers, much as the Russians waylaid the 
 French after Moscow, and cut them off by 
 the score. One night he gained a more con- 
 siderable advantage. Four hundred archers had 
 been posted about a mile from the main force. 
 Upon these Art fell silently at early dawn, and 
 although the men with him at the time were 
 actually fewer in number than their antagonists, 
 such was the confusion, and such the intricacy 
 of the forest, that only a few archers escaped, 
 and rushed, bleeding and panic-stricken, to the 
 English camp to tell the news. 
 
 Out came King Richard himself, we are told, 
 on hearing the commotion, clad in a gorgeous 
 loose surcoat, embroidered with golden ears 
 of wheat. And when he heard what had 
 happened, and when, going later in the day to 
 the place, he found not a trace of Art, but 
 only his own men lying dead one upon the other, 
 then he broke into very unkingly cursing, and
 
 264 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 vowed that if ever he caught that pernicious 
 traitor, there should not be a town in Ireland 
 no, nor in England either but should have a 
 piece of him to decorate its gates with. 
 
 Cursing, however, mended nothing, and as 
 for his unhappy soldiers, they were beginning 
 by this time to die off like flies from want of 
 food, as well as from cold, and damp, and 
 dysentery ; while those that remained were so 
 weakened that they fell all the easier prey to 
 Art's young men, who lay in wait for them in 
 every direction in the forest, and cut off all 
 that they could find. The sentries especially 
 they cut off, so that of a morning, when they 
 had to be relieved, it was generally found that 
 there was no occasion to do anything of the 
 sort, for they lay perfectly still and silent, and 
 would clearly never feel cold, or hunger, or 
 curse the Irish service again in this world. 
 
 Picture to yourself the huge heterogeneous 
 host, such as always in those days accompanied 
 a king on his travels ! Not alone soldiers, by 
 any means ; but also courtiers, and secretaries ; 
 churchmen, and politicians ; suitors, dicers, 
 hucksters, singers, barbers ; human odds and 
 ends of every kind, all gathered together in 
 such a place, and under such circumstances ! 
 Six mortal weeks they remained in those weary
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 205 
 
 Wexford woods. Rained upon ; blown upon ; 
 never having a chance of striking an open blow 
 at their foes ; with hardly any food ; without, 
 for the most part, the slightest arrangement as 
 to sleeping quarters. Richard himself had his 
 tent, but the rest might lie as they could. 
 Sometimes at dead of night the cry would be 
 raised that Art was upon them. Then might 
 have been heard a wild scurrying, and a clatter 
 of armour, as, out of holes of the earth, or the 
 hollows of trees, grim, warlike figures began 
 to arise ; and swords were buckled on with 
 stiff fingers ; and many curses, in many 
 tongues, rose to the low, dark Irish sky 
 overhead ! 
 
 Even when no night surprises occurred, 
 matters were hardly better. Art Kavanagh 
 might relax, but the weather never relaxed. 
 Never in the memory of man had there been 
 such a season ! The whole camp was one vast 
 swamp. The horses had only green oats to eat ; 
 their less fortunate riders, not so much. The 
 provision ships, which had formed part of the 
 fleet, had sailed away, nobody seems to have 
 known whither, and knightly men fought one 
 another for scraps which two months earlier 
 their own dogs would have rejected. 
 
 From bad, matters grew to worse. Pro-
 
 266 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 visions of all sorts were nearly at an end, and 
 no fresh ones were procurable. The country 
 around seemed to be a desert, and famine in its 
 worst form was staring every one in the face. 
 At last, in despair, an order was given to start 
 for the coast. The point to be attained was 
 Arklow, and the army moved thither, at first 
 with some appearance of order. Famine, how- 
 ever, is a sad corrupter of discipline. The 
 soldiers broke line ; straggled away whenever a 
 chance of food, a hint of a hen-roost, the hope 
 even of a few handfuls of bilberries, presented 
 itself. By the time the village was reached the 
 King's great army had become a mere mob 
 hungry, miserable, disorganized. Pell-mell they 
 rushed into it, and proceeded to ransack it to 
 the uttermost. But its resources were easily ex- 
 hausted. The cattle had all long since been 
 driven away. The few inhabitants left in it 
 stared helplessly, or fell grovelling upon their 
 knees in terror before their depredators. 
 
 Suddenly a cry arose that the provision ships 
 had been seen sailing round Greenore Point ! 
 Like an avalanche the hungry host rushed out 
 of the village, and proceeded to pour itself over 
 the sand-hills to the sea. There, sure enough, 
 were the ships, but the wind was contrary, and 
 it seemed doubtful whether they would be able
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 267 
 
 to make the shore, even if they realized the 
 imminence of the need for them. The excite- 
 ment grew desperate. Fires were lighted on 
 the heights. Signals of distress were shown. 
 Men ran wildly to and fro, scarce knowing what 
 they did. Others past this stage lay staring 
 with haggard eyes upon the ships. The sands 
 were strewn with men, dying with the pro- 
 visions they needed in sight. When at length 
 the three vessels did approach to shore they 
 were met in the water by the famine-stricken 
 soldiers, who waded up to their necks to get 
 at the food. " Very great contention was 
 there," says an eye-witness of the scene, "to 
 get a share of it. Every man spent his half- 
 penny or his penny on himself ; some in eating, 
 some in drinking ; thus the whole was devoured 
 very speedily." 1 
 
 At last Richard's pride broke down. While 
 the ships still hung doubtfully in the bay he 
 sent to demand a parley with Art. If that 
 contumacious rebel could be induced to come 
 to terms, the strain of the situation would 
 be relaxed. Cattle would be obtainable ; his 
 
 1 For further details of this very odd scene, read " A 
 French Metrical History of the Deposition of King 
 Richard the Second," of which a translation will be found 
 in Vol. XX. of The Archceologla.
 
 268 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 starving army could be fed ; he himself would 
 be able to fall back upon Dublin. 
 
 Probably Art knew all this at least as well as 
 did King Richard, for his terms rose steadily. 
 He consented to hold a parley with the Earl of 
 Gloucester, but his tone was that of an equal, 
 not of a repentant rebel. He would make 
 peace, he said, with the King, but it must be 
 a peace without reservations. All that he had 
 already seized upon he was to be allowed to 
 keep. The disputed lands in Kildare, which he 
 claimed in right of his wife, were to be handed 
 over to him. The O'Briens, his allies, were 
 not to be molested. His own title of King of 
 Leinster was to be formally recognized. Richard 
 swore by St. Edward that he would remain in 
 Ireland all the days of his life rather than agree 
 to such terms as those, and ordered Gloucester 
 to return to Art, and command him to appear 
 at once before him in Dublin, whither he was 
 then going. 
 
 Gloucester, however, avoided doing anything 
 of the sort, doubting probably the wisdom of 
 the proceeding, but instead he sent an humbler 
 messenger, whose throat, if Art cut it, would 
 be of much less consequence. This second 
 messenger found that redoubtable rebel feasting 
 in the open air in the middle of the forest, like
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 269 
 
 an Irish Robin Hood, with all his clan about 
 him. To him he delivered the King's message, 
 which Art received sitting crossed-legged ; with 
 his private chaplain upon one side of him, and 
 his harper upon the other, as may be seen in 
 the illuminations of the day. 
 
 Then, when the interpreter had finished 
 expounding the King's message, Art replied 
 to this effect 
 
 " Bid your lord," said he scornfully, " com- 
 mand his own kerns, and not meddle with me 
 or mine. If he wanted me in Dublin why did 
 he not take me there ? Six weeks had he to do 
 it in, yet here I, Art, still sit. Tell him, too, 
 that the air of Wexford agreeth not, methinks, 
 with his young men, for they were very fresh 
 and lusty of aspect when they came to it, 
 whereas they lie now for the most part green, 
 sad, and very mouldy under our feet ! " 
 
 " True ! true ! Hurrah for Art Mac- 
 Murrough ! " shouted the clansmen delight- 
 edly. 
 
 " Tell him too," pursued Art, warming under 
 the breath of that popular applause, "that I 
 have eaten before of his meat, and have drank 
 before of his cup, and that, though the flavour 
 of both was good at the time, yet 1 liked not
 
 270 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 the after-taste of the same. Tell him that 
 King of Leinster, I, Art MacMurrough, was 
 born, and that King of Leinster, I, Art, intend 
 to die, and that it were well for him if he 
 could say the same of that kingdom of his 
 beyond the wave. Tell him, moreover " 
 here Art's aspect became so terrific that the 
 messenger nearly died of fright " that I spare 
 you, because I require you to yelp your errand 
 into his ear, but that the next slave he sends 
 to me will travel back to Dublin without eyes 
 to find the way, without hands to grope along 
 the paths, and without a tongue with which 
 to insult the MacMurrough. I, Art, the son 
 of Art, have spoken ! " 
 
 Then that messenger returned, with his 
 teeth chattering, and his knees knocking woe- 
 fully against one another, and having, to his 
 own surprise, got alive to Dublin, he told 
 what had been said to him to the King. 
 
 " By the eyes of God," exclaimed Richard, 
 " this fellow's insolence exceedeth belief. As I 
 am a king I will yet cut down that wood of 
 his, and will hang him up for a mawkin upon 
 the last bough of the same ! " and he looked 
 for the moment like a Plantagenet as he 
 said it.
 
 KAVANAGH FOUGHT RICHARD 271 
 
 It was not to be, however, for worse 
 things than even Art's insults were at that 
 moment hanging over his head. And only a 
 week later, upon the Sunday morning, as he 
 was coming out of mass, there met him Bagot, 
 and two other messengers from the Duke of 
 York, to tell him that his cousin, Henry of 
 Hereford, had landed at Ravensburg, and that 
 all England was gathering to him like one 
 man. 
 
 Richard's usually ruddy face grew suddenly 
 grey, we are told, at this news. Confident, how- 
 ever, in his own charm, and in that divinity 
 which hedges kings, he even then delayed his 
 departure for another fortnight. God, he told 
 those who urged him to set off at once, would 
 assuredly fight for His Richard, and England, 
 he was privately convinced, would never have 
 the heart to turn her back upon one whom she 
 had certainly formerly loved. Here, however, 
 as we are aware, he deceived himself. " Alack 
 for woe, that any harm should stain so fair a 
 show ! " Richard's England had had enough 
 of him, and preferred for the moment some 
 one who would at least show her a little 
 variety in the way of bad government. So, 
 having delayed just long enough to make his
 
 272 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES 
 
 cause absolutely hopeless, he at last returned, 
 to meet the fate that was in store for him. 
 But Art Kavanagh remained behind at home 
 
 in Wexford, and ruled over his own lands, as 
 
 * 7 
 
 he had predicted, until his death. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Richard Clay &> Sons, Limited, London <5r Bimgay,
 
 A CATALOGUE OF BOOKS 
 
 AND ANNOUNCEMENTS OF 
 
 METHUEN AND COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS : LONDON 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET 
 
 W.C. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 FORTHCOMING BOOKS, .... 2 
 
 POETRY, ...... 10 
 
 BELLES LETTRES, . . . . .II 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BOOKS, . . . . .13 
 
 HISTORY, . . .14 
 
 BIOGRAPHY, . . . l6 
 
 TRAVEL, ADVENTURE AND TOPOGRAPHY, . . l8 
 
 GENERAL LITERATURE, .... 19 
 
 SCIENCE, ...... 21 
 
 PHILOSOPHY, ...... 22 
 
 THEOLOGY, ... 22 
 
 LEADERS OP RELIGION, . ... 24 
 
 FICTION, ... 25 
 
 BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, . 34 
 
 THE PEACOCK LIBRARY, 35 
 
 UNIVERSITY EXTENSION SERIES, 35 
 
 SOCIAL QUESTIONS OF TO-DAY, ... 36 
 
 CLASSICAL TRANSLATIONS, .... 37 
 
 * EDUCATIONAL BOOKS, . . 38 
 
 SEPTEMBER 1897
 
 SEPTEMBER 1897. 
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S 
 
 ANNOUNCEMENTS 
 
 Poetry 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. Edited, with an Introduction and 
 Notes, by GEORGE WYNDHAM, M. P. Grtrnn-$ax>. Buckram, fa 
 
 This_ is a volume of the sonnets and lesser poems of Shakespeare, and is prefaced 
 with an elaborate Introduction by Mr. Wyndham 
 
 ENGLISH LYRICS. Selected and Edited by W. E. HENLEY. 
 Crown 8vo. Buckram, 6s. 
 
 Also 15 copies on Japanese paper. Demy Svo. 2, 2s. net. 
 Few announcements will be more welcome to lovers of English verse than the one 
 that Mr. Henley is bringing together into one book the finest lyrics in our 
 language. 
 
 NURSERY RHYMES. With many Coloured Pictures. By 
 F. D. BEDFORD. Smatt 4/0. 6s. 
 
 This book has many beautiful designs in colour to illustrate the old rhymes. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER. A Translation by J. G. 
 CORDERY. Crown Svo. los. 6d. 
 
 Travel and Adventure 
 
 BRITISH CENTRAL AFRICA. By Sir H. H. JOHNSTON, 
 K.C.B. With nearly Two Hundred Illustrations, and Six Maps. 
 Crown 4/0. 30^. net. 
 CONTENTS. (i) The History of Nyasaland and British Central Africa generally. 
 
 (2) A detailed description of the races and languages of British Central Africa. 
 
 (3) Chapters on the European settlers and missionaries ; the Fauna, the Flora, 
 minerals, and scenery. (4) A chapter on the prospects of the country. 
 
 WITH THE GREEKS IN THESSALY. By W. KINNAIRD 
 ROSE, Reuter's Correspondent. With Plans and 23 Illustrations. 
 Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 A history of the operations in Thessaly by one whose brilliant despatches from the 
 seat of war attracted universal attention. 
 
 THE MASSACRE IN BENIN. By CAPTAIN BOISRAGON. 
 
 With Maps, etc. Crown Svo. %s. 6d. 
 
 This volume is written by one of the two survivors who escaped the terrible 
 massacre in Benin at the beginning of this year. The author relates in detail his 
 adventures and his extraordinary escape, and adds a description of the country 
 and of the events which led up to the outbreak.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S ANNOUNCEMENTS 3 
 
 FROM TONKIN TO INDIA. By PRINCE HENRI OF 
 ORLEANS. Translated by HAMLEY BENT, M.A. With 80 Illus- 
 trations and 6 Maps. Crown 4/0. 25*. 
 
 The travels of Prince Henri in 1895 from China to the valley of the Bramaputra 
 covered a distance of 2100 miles, of whith 1600 was through absolutely unexplored 
 country. No fewer than seventeen rai.ges of mountains were crossed at altitudes 
 of from 11,000 to 13,000 feet. The journey was made memorable by the discovery 
 of the sources of the Irrawaddy. To the physical difficulties of the journey were 
 added dangers from the attacks of savage tribes. The book deals with many of 
 the burning political problems of the East, and it will be found a most important 
 contribution to the literature of adventure and discovery. 
 
 THREE YEARS IN SAVAGE AFRICA. By LIONEL DECLE. 
 With an Introduction by H. M. STANLEY, M. P. With 100 Illus- 
 trations and 5 Maps. Demy?>vo. 2ls. 
 
 Few Europeans have had the same opportunity of studying the barbarous parts of 
 Africa as Mr. Decle. Starting from the Cape, he visited in succession Bechuana- 
 land, the Zambesi, Matabeleland and Mashonaland, the Portuguese settlement on 
 the Zambesi, Nyasaland, Ujiji, the headquarters of the Arabs, German East 
 Africa, Uganda (where he saw fighting in company with the late Major ' Roddy ' 
 Owen), and British East Africa. In his book he relates his experiences, his 
 minute observations of native habits and customs, and his views as to the work 
 done in Africa by the various European Governments, whose operations he was 
 able to study. The whole journey extended over 7000 miles, and occupied 
 exactly three years. 
 
 WITH THE MOUNTED INFANTRY IN MASHONA- 
 LAND. By Lieut. -Colonel ALDERSON. With numerous Illustra- 
 tions and Plans. Demy Svo. I2s. 6cf. 
 
 This is an account of the military operations in Mashonaland by the officer who 
 commanded the Iroops in that district during the late rebellion. Besides its 
 interest as a story of warfare, it will have a peculiar value as an account of the 
 services of mounted infantry by one of the chief authorities on the subject. 
 
 THE HILL OF THE GRACES : OR, THE GREAT STONE 
 TEMPLES OF TRIPOLI. By H. S. COWPER, F.S.A. With Maps, 
 Plans, and 75 Illustrations. Demy %vo. IOJ. 6d. 
 
 A record of two journeys through Tripoli in 1895 and 1896. The book treats of a 
 remarkable series of megalithic temples which have hitherto been uninvestigated, 
 and contains a large amount of new geographical and archaeological matter. 
 
 ADVENTURE AND EXPLORATION IN AFRICA. By 
 Captain A. ST. H. GIBBONS, F.R.G.S. With Illustrations by 
 C. WHYMPER, and Maps. Demy Svo. 2is. 
 
 This is an account of travel and adventure among the Marotse and contiguous tribes, 
 with a description of their customs, characteristics, and history, together with the 
 author's experiences in hunting big game. The illustrations are by Mr. Charles 
 Whympcr, and from photographs. There is a map by the author of the hitherto 
 unexplored regions lying between the Zambezi and Kafukwj rivers and from 18* 
 to 15 S. lat.
 
 4 MESSRS. METHUEN'S ANNOUNCEMENTS 
 History and Biography 
 
 A HISTORY OF EGYPT, FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO 
 THE PRESENT DAY. Edited by W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE, D.C.L., 
 LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at University College. Fully Illus- 
 trated. In Six Volumes. Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 
 VOL. V. ROMAN EGYPT. By J. G. MILNE. 
 
 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. 
 By EDWARD GIBBON. A New Edition, edited with Notes, 
 Appendices, and Maps by J. B. BURY, M.A., Fellow of Trinity 
 College, Dublin. In Seven Volumes. Demy 8v0, gilt top. 8s. (>d. 
 each. Crown 8vt>. 6s. each. Vol. IV. 
 
 THE LETTERS OF VICTOR HUGO. Translated from the 
 French by F. CLARKE, M.A. In Two Volumes. Demy Zvo. 
 loj-. 6d. each. Vol. II. 1835-72. 
 
 This is the second volume of one of the most interesting and important collection of 
 letters ever published in France. The correspondence dates from Victor Hugo's 
 boyhood to his death, and none of the letters have been published before. 
 
 A HISTORY OF THE GREAT NORTHERN RAILWAY, 
 l %4$-95- By C. H. GRINLING. With Maps and Illustrations. 
 Demy 8v0. ids. 6d. 
 
 A record of Railway enterprise and development in Northern England, containing 
 much matter hitherto unpublished. It appeals both to the general reader and to 
 those specially interested in railway construction and management. 
 
 A HISTORY OF ENGLISH COLONIAL POLICY. By 
 H. E. EGERTON, M.A. Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d. 
 
 This book deals with British Colonial policy historically from the beginnings of 
 English colonisation down to the present day. The subject has been treated by 
 itself, and it has thus been possible within a reasonable compass to deal with a 
 mass of authority which must otherwise be sought in the State papers. The 
 volume is divided into five parts : (i) The Period of Beginnings, 1497-1650 ; 
 (2) Trade Ascendancy, 1651-1830 ; (3) The Granting of Responsible Government, 
 1831-1860; (4) Laisscz Allcr, 1861-1885 ; (5) Greater Britain. 
 
 A HISTORY OF ANARCHISM. By E. V. ZENKER. 
 
 Translated by H. de B. GIBBINS, M. A., Litt.D. Demy 8vo. los. 6d. 
 
 A critical study and history, as well as a powerful and trenchant criticism, of the 
 
 Anarchist movement in Europe. The book has aroused considerable attention 
 
 on the Continent. 
 
 THE LIFE OF ERNEST RENAN By MADAME DARMES- 
 
 TETER. With Portrait. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 A biography of Renan by one of his most intimate friends. 
 
 A LIFE OF DONNE. By AUGUSTUS JESSOPP, D.D. With 
 
 Portrait. Crown 8vo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 This is a new volume of the ' Leaders of Religion ' series, from the learned and witty 
 pen of the Rector of Scorning, who has been able to embody the results of much 
 research.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S ANNOUNCEMENTS 5 
 
 OLD HARROW DAYS. By C. H. MINCHIN. Cr.Zvo. y.bd. 
 
 A volume of reminiscences which will be interesting to old Harrovians and to many 
 of the general public. 
 
 Theology 
 
 A PRIMER OF THE BIBLE. By Prof. W. H. BENNETT. 
 Crown 8v0. 2s. 6d. 
 
 relations to one anotherj and to the history of Israel and the Church. The 
 formation of the Canon is illustrated by chapters on the Apocrypha (Old and 
 New Testament); and there is a brief notice of the history of the Bible since the 
 close of the Canon. 
 
 LIGHT AND LEAVEN : HISTORICAL AND SOCIAL SERMONS. 
 By the Rev. H. HENSLEY HENSON, M.A., Fellow of All Souls', 
 Incumbent of St. Mary's Hospital, Ilford. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ibtotionftl .Series 
 
 THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Newly Trans- 
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 This little book is the first volume ^of a new Devotional Series, printed in clear type, 
 
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 This volume contains the nine books of the 'Confessions' which 'are suitable for 
 
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 THE HOLY SACRIFICE. By F. WESTON, M.A., Curate of 
 
 St. Matthew's, Westminster. i8mo. is. 
 A small volume of devotions at the Holy Communion. 
 
 Naval and Military 
 
 A HISTORY OF THE ART OF WAR. By C. W. OMAN, 
 M. A., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford. Demy 8vo. Illustrated. 2is. 
 
 Vol. II. MEDIAEVAL WARFARE. 
 
 Mr. Oman is engaged on a History of the Art of War, of which the above, though 
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 covering the isth, i6th, and t7th centuries. 
 
 The book will deal mainly with tactics and strategy, fortifications and siegecraft, but 
 subsidiary chapters will give some account of the development of arms and armour, 
 and of the various forms of military organization known to the Middle Ages.
 
 6 MESSRS. METHUEN'S ANNOUNCEMENTS 
 
 A SHORT HISTORY OF THE ROYAL NAVY, FROM 
 EARLY TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY. By DAVID HANNAY. 
 Illustrated. 2 Vols. Demy 8vo. Js. 6J. each. Vol. I. 
 This book aims at giving an account not only of the fighting we have done at sea, 
 but of the growth of the service, of the part the Navy has played in the develop- 
 ment of the Empire, and of its inner life. 
 
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 COOPER KING, of the Staff College, Camberley. Illustrated. Demy 
 %vo. Js. 6d. 
 
 This volume aims at describing the nature of the different armies that have been 
 formed in Great Britain, and how from the early and feudal levies the present 
 standing army came to be. The changes in tactics, uniform, and armament are 
 briefly touched upon, and the campaigns in which the army has shared have 
 been so far followed as to explain the part played by British regiments in them. 
 
 General Literature 
 
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 life and environment of an old English family. 
 
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 Fcap. %vo. 3-r. Leather. ^s. 
 
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 illustrations. 
 
 VOCES ACADEMICS. By C. GRANT ROBERTSON, M.A., 
 Fellow of All Souls', Oxford. With a Frontispiece, Fcap. 8vo. 
 $s. 6d. 
 
 This is a volume of light satirical dialogues and should be read by all who are inter- 
 ested in the life of Oxford. 
 
 A PRIMER OF WORDSWORTH. By LAURIE MAGNUS. 
 
 Crown %vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 This volume is uniform with the Primers of Tennyson and Burns, and contains a 
 concise biography of the poet, a critical appreciation of his work in detail, and a 
 bibliography. 
 
 NEO-MALTHUSIANISM. By R. USSHER, M.A. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 This book deals with a very delicate but most important matter, namely, the volun- 
 tary limitation of the family, and how such action affects morality, the individual, 
 and the nation. 
 
 PRIMAEVAL SCENES. By H. N. HUTCHINSON, B.A., F.G.S., 
 Author of 'Extinct Monsters,' 'Creatures of Other Days,' 'Pre- 
 historic Man and Beast,' etc. With numerous Illustrations drawn 
 by JOHN HASSALL and FRED. V. BURRIDGE. 4(0, 6s. 
 
 A set of twenty drawings, with short text to each, to illustrate the humorous aspects 
 of pre-historic times. They are carefully planned by the author so as to be 
 scientifically and archseologically correct and at the same time amusing.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S ANNOUNCEMENTS 7 
 
 THE WALLYPUG IN LONDON. By G. E. FARROW, 
 Author of 'The Wallypug of Why.' With numerous Illustrations. 
 Crown 8vo. 3-f. 6d. 
 An extravaganza for children, written with great charm and vivacity. 
 
 RAILWAY NATIONALIZATION. By CLEMENT EDWARDS. 
 Crown 8vo. 2s. 6J. [Social Questions Series. 
 
 Sport 
 
 SPORTING AND ATHLETIC RECORDS. By H. MORGAN 
 
 BROWNE. Crown %vo. is. pap^r ; is. (xt. doth. 
 
 This book gives, in a clear and complete form, accurate records of the best perform- 
 ances in all important branches of Sport. It is an attempt, never yet made, to 
 present all-important sporting records in a systematic way. 
 
 THE GOLFING PILGRIM. By HORACE G HUTCHINSON. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 This book, by a famous golfer, contains the following sketches lightly and humorously 
 written : The Prologue The Pilgrim at the Shrine Mecca out of Season The 
 Pilgrim at Home The Pilgrini Abroad The Life of the Links A Tragedy by 
 the Way Scraps from the Scrip The Golfer in Art Early Pilgrims in the West 
 An Interesting Relic. 
 
 Educational 
 
 EVAGRIUS. Edited by PROFESSOR LEON PARMENTIEK of 
 Liege and M. BIUEZ of Gand. Demy 8vo. "js. 6if. 
 
 [Byzantine Texts. 
 
 THE ODES AND EPODES OF HORACE. Translated by 
 A. D. GODLEY, M.A., Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford. 
 Crown 8vo. buckram, zs. 
 
 ORNAMENTAL DESIGN FOR WOVEN FABRICS. By 
 C. STEPHENSON, of The Technical College, Bradford, and 
 F. SUDDARDS, of The Yorkshire College, Leeds. With 65 full-page 
 plates, and numerous designs and diagrams in the text. Demy 8vo. 
 TS. 6J. 
 
 The aim of this book is to supply, in a systematic and practical form, information on 
 the subject of Decorative Design as applied to Woven Fabrics, and is primarily 
 intended to meet the requirements of students in Textile and Art Schools, or of 
 designers actively engaged in the weaving industry. I ts wealth of illustration is 
 a marked feature of the book. 
 
 ESSENTIALS OF COMMERCIAL EDUCATION. By 
 
 E. E. WHITFIELD, M.A. Crown 8vo. is. 6d. 
 A guide to Commercial Education and Examinations.
 
 S MESSRS. METHUEN'S ANNOUNCEMENTS 
 
 PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLATION. By E. C. 
 MARCHANT, M.A., Fellow of Peterhouse, Cambridge; and A. M. 
 COOK, M.A., late Scholar of Wadham College, Oxford: Assistant 
 Masters at St. Paul's School. Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 This book contains Two Hundred Latin and Two Hundred Greek Passages, and 
 has been very carefully compiled to meet the wants of V. and VI. Form Boys at 
 Public Schools. It is also well adapted for the use of Honour men at the 
 Universities. 
 
 EXERCISES ON LATIN ACCIDENCE. By S. E. WIN- 
 BOLT, Assistant Master at Christ's Hospital. Crown 8vo. is. 6d. 
 An elementary book adapted for Lower Forms to accompany the shorter Latin primer. 
 
 NOTES ON GREEK AND LATIN SYNTAX. By G. 
 BUCKLAND GREEN, M.A., Assistant Master at the Edinburgh 
 Academy, late Fellow of St. John's College, Oxon. Cr. 8vo. 2s. 6J. 
 
 Notes and explanations on the chief difficulties of Greek and Latin Syntax, with 
 numerous passages for exercise. 
 
 A DIGEST OF DEDUCTIVE LOGIC. By JOHNSON 
 
 BARKER, B.A. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 A short introduction to logic for students preparing for examinations. 
 
 TEST CARDS IN EUCLID AND ALGEBRA. By D. S. 
 CALDERWOOD, Headmaster of the Normal School, Edinburgh. In 
 a Packet of 40, with Answers, is. 
 A set of cards for advanced pupils in elementary schools. 
 
 HOW TO MAKE A DRESS. By J. A. E. WOOD. Illustrated. 
 Crown 8ve. is. 6d. 
 
 A text-book for students preparing for the City and Guilds examination, based on 
 the syllabus. The diagrams are numerous. 
 
 Fiction 
 
 LOCHINVAR. By S. R. CROCKETT, Author of 'The Raiders,' 
 etc. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 A romance of love and war, the plot of which is laid partly in Holland and partly in 
 Scotland. The hero, a young cavalier, after serving with the regiment of the 
 Prince of Orange, takes service under Dundee and fights at Killiecrankie. 
 
 THE MUTABLE MANY. By ROBERT BARR, Author of ' In 
 the Midst of Alarms,' ' A Woman Intervenes,' etc. Crown&vo. 6s. 
 
 THE LADY'S WALK. By Mrs. OLIPHANT. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 A new book by this lamented author, somewhat in the style of her ' Beleagured City.'
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S ANNOUNCEMENTS 9 
 
 TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES. By The Hon. EMILY LAW- 
 LESS, Author of ' Hurrish,' ' Maelcho,' etc. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 BLADYS. By S. BARING GOULD, Author of 'The Broom 
 Squire,' etc. Illustrated by F. H. TOWNSEND. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 A Romance of the last century. 
 
 THE POMPOFTHELAVILLETTES. By GILBERT PARKER, 
 
 Author of ' The Seats of the Mighty,' etc. Crown 8vo. $s. 6d, 
 
 A DAUGHTER OF STRIFE. By JANE HELEN FINDLATER, 
 
 Author of ' The Green Graves of Balgowrie.' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 A story of 1710. 
 
 OVER THE HILLS. By MARY FINDLATER. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 A novel by a sister of J. H. Findlater, the author of ' The Green Graves of Balgowrie.' 
 
 A CREEL OF IRISH TALES. By JANE BARLOW, Author 
 of ' Irish Idylls. ' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE CLASH OF ARMS. By J. BLOUNDELLE BURTON, 
 Author of ' In the Day of Adversity.' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 A PASSIONATE PILGRIM. By PERCY WHITE, Author of 
 'Mr. Bailey- Martin.' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 SECRETARY TO BAYNE, M.P. By W. PETT RIDGE. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE BUILDERS. By J. S. FLETCHER, Author of 'When 
 Charles I. was King.' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 JOSIAH'S WIFE. By NORMA LORIMER. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 BY STROKE OF SWORD. By ANDREW BALFOUR. Illus- 
 trated by W. CUBITT COOKE. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 A romance of the time of Elizabeth 
 
 THE SINGER OF MARLY. By IDA HOOPER. Illustrated 
 by W. COBITT COOKE. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 A romance of adventure. 
 
 KIRKHAM'S FIND. By MARY GAUNT, Author of 'The 
 Moving Finger. 1 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE FALL OF THE SPARROW. By M. C. BALFOUR. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 SCOTTISH BORDER LIFE. By JAMES C. DIBDIN., Crown 
 Svo. 3-r. &/. 
 
 A 2
 
 A LIST OF 
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S 
 
 PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Poetry 
 
 RUDYABD KIPLING'S NEW POEMS 
 
 Kudyard Kipling. THE SEVEN SEAS. By RUDYARD 
 KlPLlNG. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. Buckram, gilt top. 6s. 
 
 ' The new poems of Mr. Rudyard Kipling have all the spirit and swing of their pre- 
 decessors. Patriotism is the solid concrete foundation on which Mr. Kipling has 
 built the whole of his work.' Tivtts. 
 
 ' Full of passionate patriotism and the Imperial spirit." Yorkshire Post. 
 
 ' The Empire has found a singer ; it is no depreciation of the songs to say that states- 
 men may have, one way or other, to take account of them.' Manchester 
 Guardian. 
 
 ' Animated through and through with indubitable genius. ' Daily Telegraph. 
 
 ' Packed with inspiration, with humour, with pathos.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 ' All the pride of empire, all the intoxication of power, all the ardour, the energy, 
 the masterful strength and the wonderful endurance and death-scorning pluck 
 which are the very bone and fibre and marrow of the British charactei are here. ' 
 Daily Mail. 
 
 Eudyard Kipling. BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS; And 
 Other Verses. By RUDYARD KIPLING. Eleventh Edition. Crown 
 Sw. 6s. 
 
 ' Mr. Kipling's verse is strong, vivid, full of character. . . . Unmistakable genius 
 rings in every line.' Times. 
 
 The ballads teem with imagination, they palpitate with emotion. We read them 
 with laughter and tears ; the metres throb in our pulses, the cunningly ordered 
 words tingle with life ; and if this be not poetry, what is ?' Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 'Q." POEMS AND BALLADS. By "Q.," Author of ' Green 
 Bays,' etc. Crown Svo. Buckram. 3*. 6d. 
 
 ' This work has just the faint, ineffable touch and glow that make poetry ' Q. ' has 
 the true romantic spirit.' Speaker. 
 
 " Q." GREEN BAYS : Verses and Parodies. By " Q.," Author 
 
 of ' Dead Man's Rock," etc. Second Edition. Crown Svo. $s.6d. 
 ' The verses display a rare and versatile gift of parody, great command of metre, and 
 a very pretty turn of humour. 1 Times. 
 
 E. Mackay. A SONG OF THE SEA. By ERIC MACKAY, 
 Author of ' The Love Letters of a Violinist. ' Second Edition. 
 Fcap. Svo. 5*. 
 
 ' Everywhere Mr. Mackay displays himself the master of a style marked by all the 
 characteristics of the best rhetoric. He has a keen sense of rhythm and of general 
 balance ; his verse is excellently sonorous.' dole.
 
 MESSRS METHUEN'S LIST 11 
 
 Ibsen. BRAND. A Drama by HENRIK IBSEN. Translated by 
 WILLIAM WILSON. Second Edition. Crown &vo. $s. 6d. 
 
 'The greatest world-poem of the nineteenth century next to "Faust." It is in 
 the same set with "Agamemnon," with "Lear," with the literature that we now 
 instinctively regard as high and holy.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 "A.G." VERSES TO ORDER. By "A. G." Cr. 8vo. 2s.6d. 
 net. 
 
 A small volume of verse by a writer whose initials are well known to Oxford men. 
 1 A capital specimen of light academic poetry. These verses are very bright and 
 engaging, easy and sufficiently witty.' St. James's Gazette. 
 
 Belles Lettres, Anthologies, etc. 
 
 R.L.Stevenson. VAILIMA LETTERS. By ROBERT Louis 
 STEVENSON. With an Etched Portrait by WILLIAM STRANG, and 
 other Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown &vo. Buckram. TS. 6d. 
 
 ' Few publications have in our time been more eagerly awaited than these " Vailima 
 Letters," giving the first fruits of the correspondence of Robert Louis Stevenson. 
 But, high as the tide of expectation has run, no reader can possibly be disappointed 
 in the result.' St. James's Gazette. 
 
 Henley and Whibley. A BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE. 
 Collected by W. E. HENLEY and CHARLES WHIBLEY. Crown&vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A unique volume of extracts an art gallery of early prose.' Birmingham Post. 
 ' An admirable companion to Mr. Henley's " Lyra Heroica."' Saturday Review. 
 'Quite delightful. A greater treat for those not well acquainted with pre- Restoration 
 prose could not be imagined.' Athtnttttm. 
 
 H. C. Beeching. LYRA SACRA : An Anthology of Sacred Verse. 
 Edited by H. C. BEECHING, M.A. Crown Svo. Buckram. 6s. 
 ' A charming selection, which maintains a lofty standard of excellence.' Times. 
 
 "Q." THE GOLDEN POMP : A Procession of English Lyrics 
 from Surrey to Shirley, arranged by A. T. QUILLER COUCH. Crown 
 8vo. Buckram. 6s. 
 ' A delightful volume : a really golden " Pomp." ' Spectator. 
 
 W. B. Yeats. AN ANTHOLOGY OF IRISH VERSE. 
 
 Edited by W. B. YEATS. Crown 8vo. $s. 6d. 
 ' An attractive and catholic selection.' Times. 
 
 G. W. Steevens. MONOLOGUES OF THE DEAD. By 
 G. W. STEEVENS. Foolscap 8vo. $s. 6d. 
 
 A series of Soliloquies in which famous men of antiquity Julius Caesar, Nero. 
 Alcibiades, etc., attempt to express themselves in the modes of thought and 
 language of to-day. 
 
 The effect is sometimes splendid, sometimes birarrc, but always amazingly clever. 
 Pall Mall Gazttte.
 
 12 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 Victor Hugo. THE LETTERS OF VICTOR HUGO. 
 
 Translated from the French by F. CLARKE, M.A. In Two Volumes. 
 Demy Sva. los. 6d. each. Vol. I. 1815-35. 
 
 This is the first volume of one of the most interesting and important collection of 
 letters ever published in France. The correspondence dates from Victor Hugo's 
 boyhood to his death, and none of the letters have been published before. The 
 
 i^amennais ; a very important set 01 z 
 letters about his early books and plays. 
 ' A charming and vivid picture of a man whose egotism never marred his natural 
 kindness, and whose vanity did not impair his greatness.' Standard. 
 
 C. H. Pearson. ESSAYS AND CRITICAL REVIEWS. By 
 C. H. PEARSON, M.A., Author of 'National Life and Character.' 
 Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by H. A. STRONG, M.A., 
 LL.D. With a Portrait. Demy 8vo. los. (>d. 
 
 ' Remarkable for careful handling, breadth of view, and knowledge.' Scotsman. 
 
 ' Charming essays.' Spectator. 
 
 W. M. Dixon. A PRIMER OF TENNYSON. By W. M. 
 
 DIXON, M.A., Professor of English Literature at Mason College. 
 Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 ' Much sound and well-expressed criticism and acute literary judgments. The biblio 
 graphy is a boon.' Speaker. 
 
 W. A. Craigie. A PRIMER OF BURNS. By W. A. CRAIGIE. 
 
 Crown &vo. 2s. 6d. 
 This book is planned on a method similar to the ' Primer of Tennyson.' It has also 
 
 a glossary. 
 
 'A valuable addition to the literature of the poet.' Times. 
 ' An excellent short account. ' Pall Mall Gazette. 
 'An admirable introduction. 1 Globe. 
 
 Sterne. THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM 
 
 SHANDY. By LAWRENCE STERNE. With an Introduction by 
 CHARLES WHIBLEY, and a Portrait. 2 vols. Js. 
 
 'Very dainty volumes are these; the paper, type, and light-green binding are _a!l 
 very agreeable to the eye. Simplex munditiis is the phrase that might be applied 
 to them.' Globe. 
 
 Congreve. THE COMEDIES OF WILLIAM CONGREVE. 
 
 With an Introduction by G. S. STREET, and a Portrait. 2 vols. Js. 
 ' The volumes are strongly bound in green buckram, are of a convenient size, and 
 pleasant to look upon, so that whether on the shelf, or on the table, or in the hand 
 the possessor is thoroughly content with them. ' Guardian. 
 
 Morier. THE ADVENTURES OF HAJJI BABA OF 
 ISPAHAN. By JAMES MORIER. With an Introduction by E. G. 
 BROWNE, M.A., and a Portrait. 2 vols. Js. 
 
 Walton. THE LIVES OF DONNE, WOTTON, HOOKER, 
 HERBERT, AND SANDERSON. By IZAAK WALTON. With 
 an Introduction by VERNON BLACKBURN, and a Portrait..; 3^. 6</.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 13 
 
 Johnson. THE LIVES OF THE ENGLISH POETS. By 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. With an Introduction by J. H. MILLAR, 
 and a Portrait. 3 vols. IDJ. 6d. 
 
 Burns. THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS. Edited by 
 
 ANDREW LANG and W. A. CRAIGIE. With Portrait. Demy Svo, 
 
 gilt top. 6s. 
 This edition contains a carefully collated Text, numerous Notes, critical and textual, 
 
 a critical and biographical Introduction, and a Glossary. 
 'Among the editions in one volume, Mr. Andrew Lang's will take the place of 
 
 authority. ' Times. 
 
 F. Langbridge. BALLADS OF THE BRAVE: Poems of 
 Chivalry, Enterprise, Courage, and Constancy. Edited, with Notes, 
 by Rev. F. LANGBRIDGE. Crown Svo. Buckram. 3*. 6d. School 
 Edition. 2s. 6d. 
 
 ' A very happy conception happily carried out. These " Ballads of the Brave " are 
 intended to suit the real tastes of boys, and will suit the taste of the great majority.' 
 Spectator. ' The book is full of splendid things.' World. 
 
 Illustrated Books 
 
 Jane Barlow. THE BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND MICE, 
 
 translated by JANE BARLO'.V, Author of ' Irish Idylls,' and pictured 
 by F. D. BEDFORD. Small 4/0. 6s. fief. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES retold by S. 
 BARING GOULD. With numerous illustrations and initial letters by 
 ARTHUR J. GASKIN. Second Edition. Crown 8v0. Buckram. 6s. 
 'Mr. Baring Gould is deserving of gratitude, in re-writing in honest, simple style the 
 old stories that delighted the childhood of " our fathers and grandfathers." As to 
 the form of the book, and the printing, which is by Messrs. Constable, it were 
 difficult to commend overmuch. Saturday Review. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. OLD ENGLISH FAIRY TALES. Col- 
 lected and edited by S. BARING GOULD. With Numerous Illustra- 
 tions by F. D. BEDFORD. Second Edition. Crown Svo. Buckram. 6s. 
 'A charming volume, which children will be sure to appreciate. The stories have 
 been selected with great ingenuity from various old ballads and folk-tales, and, 
 having been somewhat altered and readjusted, now stand forth, clothed in Mr. 
 Baring Gould's delightful English, to enchant youthful readers.' Guardian. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. A BOOK OF NURSERY SONGS AND 
 
 RHYMES. Edited by S. BARING GOULD, and Illustrated by the 
 Birmingham Art School. Buckram, gilt top. Croitm Svo. 6s. 
 ' The volume is very complete in its way, as it contains nursery songs to the number 
 of 77, game-rhymes, and jingles. To the student we commend the sensible intro- 
 duction, and the explanatory notes. The volume is superbly printed on soft, 
 thick paper, which it is a pleasure to touch ; and the borders and pictures are 
 among the very best specimens we have seen of the Gaskin school' Birming- 
 ham Gasettt.
 
 14 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 H. 0. Beeching. A BOOK OF CHRISTMAS VERSE. Edited 
 by H. C. BEECHING, M.A., and Illustrated by WALTER CRANE. 
 Crown 8v0, gilt top, $s. 
 
 A collection of the best verse inspired by the birth of Christ from the Middle Ages 
 to the present day. A distinction of the book is the large number of poems it 
 contains by modern authors, a few of which are here printed for the first time. 
 ;' Ah anthology which, from its unity of aim and high poetic excellence, has a better 
 right to exist than most of its fellows.' Guardian. 
 
 History 
 
 Gibbon. THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN 
 EMPIRE. By EDWARD GIBBON. A New Edition, Edited with 
 Notes, Appendices, and Maps, by J. B. BURY, M.A., Fellow of 
 Trinity College, Dublin. In Seven Volumes. Demy 8vo. Gilt top. 
 Ss. 6d. each. Also crown 8vo. 6s. each. Vols. I. , II. , and III. 
 
 'The time has certainly arrived for a new edition of Gibbon's great work. . . . Pro- 
 fessor Bury is the right man to undertake this task. His learning is amazing, 
 both in extent and _ accuracy. The book is issued in a handy form, and at a 
 moderate price, and it is admirably printed." Times. 
 
 'The edition is edited as a classic should be edited, removing nothing, yet indicating 
 the value of the text, and bringing it up to date. It promises to be of the utmost 
 value, and will be a welcome addition to many libraries.' Scotsman. 
 
 'This edition, so far as one may judge from the first instalment, is a marvel of 
 erudition and critical skill, and it is the very minimum of praise to predict that the 
 seven volumes of it will supersede Dean Milman's as the standard edition of our 
 great historical classic.' Glasgow Herald. 
 
 ' The beau-ideal Gibbon has arrived at last.' Sketch. 
 
 ' At last there is an adequate modern edition of Gibbon. . . . The best edition the 
 nineteenth century could produce.' Manchester Guardian. 
 
 Flinders Petrie. A HI STORY OF EGYPT, FROMTHE EARLIEST 
 TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY. Edited by W. M. FLINDERS 
 PETRIE, D.C.L., LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at University 
 College. Fully Illustrated. In Six Volumes. Crown Svo. 6s. each. 
 
 Vol. I. PREHISTORIC TIMES TO XVI. DYNASTY. W. M. F. 
 Petrie. Third Edition. 
 
 Vol. II. THE XVIlTH AND XVIIlTH DYNASTIES. W. M. F. 
 Petrie. Second Edition. 
 
 ' A history written in the spirit of scientific precision so worthily represented by Dr. 
 Petrie and his school cannot but promote sound and accurate study, and 
 supply a vacant place in the English literature of Egyptology." Times. 
 
 Flinders Petrie. EGYPTIAN TALES. Edited by W. M. 
 FLINDERS PETRIE. Illustrated by TRISTRAM ELLIS. In Two 
 Volumes. Crown 8vo. 3^. 6d. each. 
 
 'A valuable addition to the literature of comparative folk-lore . The drawings are 
 
 really illustrations in the literal sense of the word." Globe. 
 ' It has a scientific value to the student of history and archaeology." Scotsman. 
 ' Invaluable as a picture of life in Palestine and Egypt.' Daily News.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 15 
 
 Flinders Petrie. EGYPTIAN DECORATIVE ART. By 
 W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE, D.C.L. With 120 Illustrations. Crown 
 Svo. 3-r. 6d. 
 
 1 Professor Flinders Petrie Is not only a profound Egyptologist, but an accomplished 
 student of comparative archaeology. In these lectures, delivered at the Royal 
 Institution, he displays both qualifications with rare skill in elucidating the 
 development of decorative art in Egypt, and in tracing its influence on the 
 art of other countries.' Times. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE TRAGEDY OF THE C^SARS. 
 The Emperors of the Julian and Claudian Lines. With numerous 
 Illustrations from Busts, Gems, Cameos, etc. By S. BARING GOULD, 
 Author of 'Mehalah,' etc. Fourth Edition. Royal %vo. \$s. 
 
 ' A most splendid and fascinating book on a subject of undying interest. The great 
 feature of the book is the use the author has made of the existing portraits of the 
 Caesars, and the admirable critical subtlety he has exhibited in dealing with this 
 line of research. It is brilliantly written, and the illustrations are supplied on a 
 scale of profuse magnificence.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 ' The volumes will in no sense disappoint the general reader. Indeed, in their way, 
 there is nothing in any sense so good in English. . . . Mr. Baring Gould has 
 presented his narrative in such a way as not to make one dull page.' Athtnceum. 
 
 H. deB. Gibbins. INDUSTRY IN ENGLAND : HISTORI- 
 CAL OUTLINES. By H. DE B. GIBBINS, M.A., D.Litt. With 
 5 Maps. Second Edition. Demy 8vo. los. 6d. 
 
 This book is written with the view of affording a clear view of the main facts of 
 English Social and Industrial History placed in due perspective. Beginning 
 with prehistoric times, it passes in review the growth and advance of industry 
 up to the nineteenth century, showing its gradual development and progress. 
 The book is illustrated by Maps, Diagrams, and Tables. 
 
 A. Clark. THE COLLEGES OF OXFORD : Their History 
 
 and their Traditions. By Members of the University. Edited by A. 
 
 CLARK, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Lincoln College. 8vo. 12s. 6d. 
 
 ' A work which will certainly be appealed to for many years as the standard book on 
 
 the Colleges of Oxford. 1 Athetueum. 
 
 Perrens. THE HISTORY OF FLORENCE FROM 1434 
 TO 1492. By F. T. PERRENS. Translated by HANNAH LYNCH. 
 8vo. 12s. 6d. 
 
 A history of Florence under the domination of Cosimo, Piero, and Lorenzo de 
 
 M edicts. 
 1 This is a standard book by an honest and intelligent historian, who has deserved 
 
 well of all who are interested in Italian history.' Manchester Guardian. 
 
 J. Wells. A SHORT HISTORY OF ROME. By J. WELLS, 
 M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Wadham Coll., Oxford. With 4 Maps. 
 Crown 8ro. 3*. 6e/. 
 This book is intended for the M iddle nnd Upper Forms of Public Schools and for 
 
 Pass Students at the Universities. It contains copious Tables, etc. 
 ' An original work written on an original plan, and with uncommon freshness and 
 vigour. ' Speaktr,
 
 16 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 B. L. S. Horsburgh. THE CAMPAIGN OF WATERLOO. 
 By E. L. S. HORSBURGH, B.A. With Plans. Crown 8vo. $s. 
 
 'A brilliant essay simple, sound, and thorough.' Daily Chronicle. 
 ' A study, the most concise, the most lucid, the most critical that has been produced. 
 Birmingham Mercury, 
 
 H.B. George. BATTLES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. ByH.B. 
 GEORGE, M.A., Fellow of New College, Oxford. With numerous 
 Plans. Third Edition* Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Mr. George has undertaken a very useful task that of making military affairs in- 
 telligible and instructive to non-military readers and has executed it with laud- 
 able intelligence and industry, and with a large measure of success.' Times. 
 
 0. Browning. A SHORT HISTORY OF MEDIEVAL ITALY, 
 v A.D. 1250-1530. By OSCAR BROWNING, Fellow and Tutor of King's 
 College, Cambridge. Second Edition. In Two Volumes. Crown 
 8v0. $s. each. 
 
 VOL. I. 1250-1409. Guelphs and Ghibeliines. 
 VOL. n. 1409-1530. The Age of the Condottieri. 
 
 'A vivid picture of mediaeval Italy.' Standard. 
 
 'Mr. Browning is to be congratulated on the production of a work of immense 
 labour and learning.' Westminster Gazette. 
 
 O'Grady. THE STORY OF IRELAND. By STANDISH 
 O'GRADY, Author of ' Finn and his Companions.' Cr. Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 ,/Most delightful, most stimulating. Its racy humour, its original imaginings, 
 v make it one of the freshest, breeziest volumes.' Methodist Times. 
 
 Biography 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONA- 
 PARTE. By S. BARING GOULD. With over 450 Illustrations in 
 the Text and 12 Photogravure Plates. Large quarto. Gilt top. %6s. 
 
 ' The best biography of Napoleon in our tongue, nor have the French as good a 
 biographer of their hero. A book very nearly as good as Southey's " Life of 
 Nelson." ' Manchester Guardian. 
 
 'The main feature of this gorgeous volume is its great wealth of beautiful photo- 
 gravures and finely-executed wood engravings, constituting a complete pictorial 
 chronicle of Napoleon I.'s personal history from the days of his early childhood 
 at Ajaccio to the date of his second interment under the dome of the Invalides in 
 Paris.' Daily Telegraph. 
 
 ' The most elaborate account of Napoleon ever produced by an English writer.' 
 Daily Chronicle. 
 
 'A brilliant and attractive volume. Never before have so many pictures relating 
 to Napoleon been brought within the limits of an English book.' Globe. 
 
 ' Particular notice is due to the vast collection of contemporary illustrations.' 
 Guardian. 
 
 ' Nearly all the illustrations are real contributions to history.' Westminster Ga-ette, 
 
 'The illustrations are of supreme interest.' Standard.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 17 
 
 Morris Puller. THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF JOHN 
 DAVENANT, D.D. (1571-1641), President of Queen's College, 
 Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity, Bishop of Salisbury. By 
 MORRIS FULLER, B.D. Crown Svo. fs. 6d. 
 
 ' A valuable contribution to ecclesiastical history.' BirmingJiam Gazette. 
 
 J. M. Rigg. ST. ANSELM OF CANTERBURY : A CHAPTER 
 IN THE HISTORY OF RELIGION. ByJ. M. RIGG. DemyZvo. ^s.fxi. 
 
 ' Mr. Rigg has told the story of the great Primate's life with scholarly ability, and 
 has thereby contributed an interesting chapter to the history of the Norman period. 1 
 Daily Chronicle. 
 
 F. W. Joyce. THE LIFE OF SIR FREDERICK GORE 
 OUSELEY. By F. W. JOYCE, M.A. With Portraits and Illustra- 
 tions. Crown 8vo. Js. 6d. 
 
 ' This book has been undertaken in quite the right spirit, and written with sympathy 
 insight, and considerable literary skill.' Times. 
 
 W. G. Collingwood. THE LIFE OF JOHN RUSKIN. By 
 W. G. COLLINGWOOD, M.A., Editor of Mr. Ruskin's Poems. With 
 numerous Portraits, and 13 Drawings by Mr. Ruskin. Second 
 Edition. 2 voh. 8vo. 32*. 
 
 ' No more magnificent volumes have been published for a long time.' Times. 
 1 It is long since we had a biography with such delights of substance and of form. 
 Such a book is a pleasure for the day, and a joy for ever.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 0. Waldstein. JOHN RUSKIN : a Study. By CHARLES 
 WALDSTEIN, M.A., Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. With a 
 Photogravur Portrait after Professor HERKOMER. Post 8vo. $s. 
 
 'A thoughtful, impartial, well-written criticism of Ruskin's teaching, intended to 
 separate what the author regards as valuable and permanent from what is transient 
 and erroneous in the great master's writing.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 W. H. Button. THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. By 
 W. H. HUTTON, M.A., Author of ' William Laud.' With Portraits. 
 Crown 8v0. $s. 
 
 ' The book lays good claim to high rank among our biographies. It is excellently, 
 even lovingly, written.' Scotsman. ' An excellent monograph.' Times. 
 
 Clark Russell. THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL LORD COL- 
 LINGWOOD. By W. CLARK RUSSELL, Author of ' The Wreck 
 of the Grosvenor.' With Illustrations by F. BRANGWYN. Third 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A book which we should like to see in the hands of every boy in the country.' 
 St. James's Gazette. ' A re.xlly good book.' Saturday Review. 
 
 A3
 
 1 8 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 Southey. ENGLISH SEAMEN (Howard, Clifford, Hawkins, 
 Drake, Cavendish). By ROBERT SOUTHEY. Edited, with an 
 Introduction, by DAVID HANNAY. Second Edition. CrotvnSvo. 6s. 
 'Admirable and well-told stories of our naval history.' Army and Navy Gazette. 
 ' A brave, inspiriting book.' Black and White. 
 
 Travel, Adventure and Topography 
 
 R. S. S. Baden-Powell. THE DOWNFALL OF PREMPEH. 
 A Diary of Life with the Native Levy in Ashanti, 1895. By Colonel 
 BADEN-POWELL. With 21 Illustrations and a Map. Demy 8vo. 
 los. 6d. 
 
 ' A compact, faithful, most readable record of the campaign.' Daily News. 
 1 A bluff and vigorous narrative.' Glasgow Herald. 
 
 R. S. S. Baden-Powell. THE MATEBELE CAMPAIGN 1896. 
 By Colonel R. S. S. BADEN-POWELL. With nearly 100 Illustrations. 
 Second Edition. Demy%vo. i$s. 
 
 'Written in an unaffectedly light and humorous style.' The World. 
 
 'A very racy and eminently readable book.' St. James's Gazette. 
 
 ' As a straightforward account of a great deal of plucky work unpretentiously done, 
 this book is well worth reading. The simplicity of the narrative is all in its 
 favour, and accords in a peculiarly English fashion with the nature of the subject.' 
 Times. 
 
 Captain Hinde. THE FALL OF THE CONGO ARABS. 
 By SIDNEY L. HINDE. With Portraits and Plans. Demy 8v0. 
 I2s. 6d. 
 
 ' The book is full of good things, and of sustained interest.' St. James's Gazette. 
 A graphic sketch of one of the most exciting and important episodes in the struggle 
 for supremacy in Central Africa between the Arabs and their Europeon rivals. 
 Apart from the story of the campaign, Captain Hinde's book is mainly remark- 
 able for the fulness with which he discusses the question of cannibalism. It is, 
 indeed, the only connected narrative in English, at any rate which has been 
 published of this particular episode in African history.' Times. 
 
 'Captain Hinde's book is one of the most interesting and valuable contributions yet 
 made to the literature of modern Africa.' Daily News. 
 
 W. Orooke. THE NORTH-WEST PROVINCES OF INDIA : 
 THEIR ETHNOLOGY AND ADMINISTRATION. By W. CROOKE. 
 With Maps and Illustrations. Demy 8vo. los. 6d. 
 
 ' A carefully and well-written account of one of the most important provinces of the 
 Empire. In seven chapters Mr. Croolce deals successively with the land in its 
 physical aspect, the province under Hindoo and Mussulman rule, the province 
 under British rule, the ethnology and sociology of the province, the religious and 
 social life of the people, the land and its settlement, and the native peasant in his 
 relation to the land. The illustrations are good and well selected, and the map is 
 excellent. ' Manchester Guardian.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 19 
 
 W. B. Worsfold. SOUTH AFRICA : Its History and its Future. 
 By W. BASIL WORSFOLD, M.A. With a Map. Second Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' An intensely interesting book.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 ' A monumental work compressed into a very moderate compass.' World. 
 
 General Literature 
 
 S. Baring Gould. OLD COUNTRY LIFE. By S. BARING 
 GOULD, Author of ' Mehalah,' etc. With Sixty-seven Illustrations 
 by W. PARKINSON, F. D. BEDFORD, and F. MASEY. Large 
 Crown 8vo. los. 6d. Fifth and Cheaper Edition. 6s. 
 
 '"Old Country Life," as healthy wholesome reading, full of breezy life and move- 
 ment, full of quaint stories vigorously told, will not be excelled by any book to be 
 published throughout the year. Sound, hearty, and English to the core.' World. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. HISTORIC ODDITIES AND STRANGE 
 EVENTS. By S. BARING GOULD. Third Edition. Crown &vo. 6s. 
 
 1 A collection of exciting and entertaining chapters. The whole volume is delightful 
 reading.' Times. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. FREAKS OF FANATICISM. By S. BARING 
 GOULD. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Mr. Baring Gould has a keen eye for colour and effect, and the subjects he has 
 chosen give ample scope to 'his descriptive and analytic faculties. A perfectly 
 fascinating book.' Scottish Leader. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. A GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG : 
 
 English Folk Songs with their Traditional Melodies. Collected and 
 arranged by S. BARING GOULD and H. FLEETWOOD SHEPPARD. 
 Demy 4/0. 6* . 
 
 S. Baring Gould. SONGS OF THE WEST: Traditional 
 Ballads and Songs of the West of England, with their Traditional 
 Melodies. Collected by S. BARING GOULD, M.A., and H. FLEET- 
 WOOD SHEPPARD, M. A. Arranged for Voice and Piano. In 4 Parts 
 (containing 25 Songs each), Parts I., II., ///., 3*. each. Part 
 2V., 5*. In one Vol., French morocco, i$s. 
 A rich collection of humour, pathos, grace, and poetic fancy.' Saturday Revin.
 
 20 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 S. Baring Gould. YORKSHIRE ODDITIES AND STRANGE 
 EVENTS. Fourth Edition, Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. STRANGE SURVIVALS AND SUPER- 
 STITIONS. With Illustrations. By S. BARING GOULD. Crown 
 8vo. Second Edition. 6s. 
 
 1 We have read Mr. Baring Gould's book from beginning to end. It is full of quaint 
 and various information, and there is not a dull page in it. ' Notes and Queries. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE DESERTS OF SOUTHERN 
 FRANCE. By S. BARING. GOULD. With numerous Illustrations 
 by F. D. BEDFORD, S. HUTTON, etc. 2 vols. Demy Svo. 325. 
 
 'His two richly-illustrated volumes are full of matter of interest to the geologist, 
 the archaeologist, and the student of history and manners. 1 Scotsman. 
 
 G. W. Steevens. NAVAL POLICY : WITH A DESCRIP- 
 TION OF ENGLISH AND FOREIGN NAVIES. By G. W. STEEVENS. 
 Demy &vo. 6s. 
 
 This book is a description of the British and other more important navies of the world, 
 with a sketch of the lines on which our naval policy might possibly be developed. 
 It describes our recent naval policy^ and shows what our naval force really is. A 
 detailed but non-technical account is given of the instruments of modern warfare 
 guns, armour, engines, and the like with a view to determine how far we are 
 abreast of modern invention and modern requirements. An ideal policy is then 
 sketched for the building and manning of our fleet ; and the last chapter is 
 devoted to docks, coaling-stations, and especially colonial defence. 
 
 'An extremely able and interesting work." Daily Chronicle. 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. THE SPEECHES AND PUBLIC AD- 
 DRESSES OF THE RT. HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P. 
 Edited by A. W. HUTTON, M.A., and H. J. COHEN, M.A. With 
 Portraits. Svo. Vols. IX. and X. izs. 6d. each. 
 
 J. Wells. OXFORD AND OXFORD LIFE. By Members of 
 the University. Edited by J. WELLS, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of 
 Wadham College. Crown %vo. 3^. 6d. 
 
 ' We congratulate Mr. Wells on the production of a readable and intelligent account 
 of Oxford as it is at the present time, written by persons who are possessed of a 
 close acquaintance with the system and life of the University.' Athenteum. 
 
 L. Whibley. GREEK OLIGARCHIES : THEIR ORGANISA- 
 TION AND CHARACTER. By L. WHIBLEY, M.A., Fellow 
 of Pembroke College, Cambridge. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' An exceedingly useful handbook : a careful and well-arranged study of an obscure 
 
 subject.' Times. 
 ' Mr. Whibley is never tedious or pedantic.' Pall Mall Gazette.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 21 
 
 L. L. Price. ECONOMIC SCIENCE AND PRACTICE. 
 By L. L. PRICE, M.A., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. Crown 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 ' The book is well written, giving evidence of considerable literary ability, and clear 
 mental grasp of the subject under consideration.' Western Morning News. 
 
 C. F. Andrews. CHRISTIANITY AND THE LABOUR 
 QUESTION. By C. F. ANDREWS, B.A. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 'A bold and scholarly survey.' Speaker. 
 
 J. S. Shedlock. THE PIANOFORTE SONATA : Its Origin 
 and Development. By J. S. SHEDLOCK. Crown Svo. 5.$. 
 
 ' This work should be in the possession of every musician ind amateur, for it not 
 only embodies a concise and lucid history ot the origin of one of the most im- 
 portant forms of musical composition, but, by reason of the painstaking research 
 and accuracy of the author's statements, it is a very valuable work for reference.' 
 A thentcunt. 
 
 E. M. Bowden. THE EXAMPLE OF BUDDHA : Being Quota- 
 tions from Buddhist Literature for each Day in the Year. Compiled 
 by E. M. BOWDEN. With Preface by Sir EDWIN ARNOLD. Third 
 Edition. l6mo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Science 
 
 Freudenreich. DAIRY BACTERIOLOGY. A Short Manual 
 for the Use of Students. By Dr. ED. VON FREUDENREICH. 
 Translated from the German by J. R. AINSWORTH DAVIS, B.A., 
 F.C.P. Crown Svo. 2s.6d. 
 
 Chalmers Mitchell. OUTLINES OF BIOLOGY. By P. 
 
 CHALMERS MITCHELL, M. A., F.Z.S. Fully Illustrated. Crown 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 A text-book designed to cover the new Schedule issued by the Royal College of 
 Physicians and Surgeons. 
 
 G.Massee. A MONOGRAPH OF THEM YXOGASTRES. By 
 
 GEORGE MASSEE. With 12 Coloured Plates. Jfoya/Svo. iSs.net. 
 
 ' A work much in advance of any book in the language treating of this group of 
 organisms. It is indispensable to every student of the Myxogastrcs. The 
 coloured plates deserve high praise for their accuracy and execution.' A'aturt.
 
 22 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 Philosophy 
 
 L. T. Hobhouse. THE THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE. By 
 L. T. HOBHOUSE, Fellow and Tutor of Corpus College, Oxford. 
 Demy 8vo. zis. 
 
 ' The most important contribution to English philosophy since the publication of Mr. 
 Bradley's " Appearance and Reality." Full of brilliant criticism and of positive 
 theories which are models of lucid statement.' Glasgow Herald. 
 
 ' An elaborate and often brilliantly written volume. The treatment is one of great 
 freshness, and the illustrations are particularly numerous and apt.' Times. 
 
 W. H. Fairbrother. THE PHILOSOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. 
 By W. H. FAIRBROTHER, M.A., Lecturer at Lincoln College, 
 Oxford. Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 
 
 This yolume_ is expository, not critical, and is intended for senior students at the 
 
 Universities and others, as a statement of Green's teaching, and an introduction to 
 
 the study of Idealist Philosophy. 
 ' In every way an admirable book. As an introduction to the writings of perhaps the 
 
 most remarkable speculative thinker whom England has produced in the present 
 
 century) nothing could be better.' Glasgow Herald. 
 
 F. W. Bussell. THE SCHOOL OF PLATO : its Origin and 
 
 its Revival under the Roman Empire. By F. W. BUSSELL, M.A. , 
 Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose College, Oxford. Demy 8vo. los. 6d. 
 
 ' A highly valuable contribution to the history of ancient thought.' Glasgow Herald. 
 ' A clever and stimulating book, provocative of thought and deserving careful reading.' 
 Manchester Guardian. 
 
 F. S. Granger. THE WORSHIP OF THE ROMANS. By 
 F. S. GRANGER, M.A., Litt.D., Professor of Philosophy at Univer- 
 sity College, Nottingham. Crown &vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A scholarly analysis of the religious ceremonies,beliefs, and superstitions of ancient 
 Rome, conducted in the new instructive light of comparative anthropology.' 
 Times. 
 
 Theology 
 
 E. 0. S. Gibson. THE XXXIX. ARTICLES OF THE 
 CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Edited with an Introduction by E. 
 C. S. GIBSON, D.D., Vicar of Leeds, late Principal of Wells 
 Theological College. In Two Volumes. Demy 8vo. I $s. 
 
 ' The tone maintained throughout is not that of the partial advocate, but the faithful 
 
 exponent. ' Scotsman. 
 'There are ample proofs of clearness of expression, sobriety of judgment, and breadth 
 
 of view. . . . The book will be welcome to all students of the subject, and its sound, 
 
 definite, and loyal theology ought to be of great service.' National Observer. 
 ' So far from repelling the general reader, its orderly arrangement, lucid treatment, 
 
 and felicity of diction invite and encourage his attention.' Yorkshire Post.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 23 
 
 E. L. Ottley. THE DOCTRINE OF THE INCARNATION. 
 
 By R. L. OTTLEY, M.A., late fellow of Magdalen College, Oxon., 
 
 Principal of Pusey House. In Two Volumes. Demy 8vo. 1 5*. 
 1 Learned and reverent : lucid and well arranged.' Record. 
 'Accurate, well ordered, and judicious." National Observer. 
 'A clear and remarkably full account of the main cunents of speculation. Scholarly 
 
 precision . . . genuine tolerance . . . intense interest in his subject are Mr. 
 
 Ottley's merits.' Guardian. 
 
 F. B. Jevons. AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY 
 
 OF RELIGION. By F. B. JEVONS, M.A., Litt.D., Principal of 
 Bishop Hatfield's Hall. Demy 8z>0. IQJ. 6d. 
 
 Mr. F. B. Jevons' ' Introduction to the History of Religion ' treats of early religion, 
 from the point of view of Anthropology and Folk-lore ; and is the first attempt 
 that has been made in any language to weave together the results of recent 
 investigations into such topics as Sympathetic Magic, Taboo, Totemism, 
 Fetishism, etc., so as to present a systematic account of the growth of primitive 
 religion and the development of early religious institutions. 
 
 ' Dr. Jevons has written a notable work, and we can strongly recommend it to the 
 serious attention of theologians, anthropologists, and classical scholars.' Man- 
 chester Guardian. 
 
 1 The merit of this book lies in the penetration, the singular acuteness and force of the 
 author's judgment. He is at once critical and luminous, at once just and suggestive. 
 It is but rarely that one meets with a book so comprehensive and so thorough as 
 this, and it is more than an ordinary pleasure for the reviewer to welcome and 
 recommend it. Dr. Jevons is something more than an historian of primitive 
 belief he is a philosophic thinker, who sees his subject clearly and sees it whole, 
 whose mastery^ of detail is no less complete than his view of the broader aspects 
 and issues of his subject is convincing.' Birmingham Post. 
 
 S. E. Driver. SERMONS ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED 
 WITH THE OLD TESTAMENT. By S. R. DRIVER, D.D., 
 Canon of Christ Church, Regius Professor of Hebrew in the Uni- 
 versity of Oxford. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A welcome companion to the author's famous ' Introduction." No man can read these 
 discourses without feeling that Dr. Driver is fully alive to the deeper teaching of 
 the Old Testament.' Guardian. 
 
 T. K. Cheyne. FOUNDERS OF OLD TESTAMENT CRITI- 
 CISM : Biographical, Descriptive, and Critical Studies. By T. K. 
 CHEYNE, D.D., Oriel Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scrip- 
 ture at Oxford. Large crown Svo. "js. 6d. 
 
 This book is a historical sketch of O. T. Criticism in the form of biographical studies 
 from the days of Eichhorn to those of Driver and Robertson Smith. 
 
 'A very learned and instructive work.' Times. 
 
 O.H.Prior. CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Edited by C.H. PRIOR, 
 
 M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Pembroke College. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 A volume of sermons preached before the University of Cambridge by various 
 
 preachers, including the Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop Westcott. 
 A representative collection. Bishop Westcott's is a noble sermon.' Guardian. 
 
 E. B. Layard. RELIGION IN BOYHOOD. Notes on the 
 Religious Training of Boys. With a Preface by J. R. ILLING- 
 WORTH. By E. B. LAYARD, M.A. i8mo. is.
 
 24 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 W. Yorke Faussett. THE- DE CATECHIZANDIS 
 
 RUDIBUS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Edited, with Introduction, 
 
 Notes, etc., by W. YORKE FAUSSETT, M.A., late Scholar of Balliol 
 
 Coll. Crown 8vo. 3$. 6d. 
 
 An edition of a Treatise on the Essentials of Christian Doctrine, and the best 
 
 methods of impressing them on candidates for baptism. 
 
 'Ably and judiciously edited on the same principle as the ordinary Greek and 
 Latin texts.' Glasgow Herald. 
 
 SDctiotional Boofeg, 
 
 With Full-page Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo. Buckram. 35. 6d. 
 
 Padded morocco, $s. 
 
 THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. By THOMAS A KEMPIS. 
 With an Introduction by DEAN FARRAR. Illustrated by C. M. 
 GERE, and printed in black and red. Second Edition. 
 'Amongst all the innumerable English editions of the "Imitation," there can have 
 been few which were prettier than this one, printed in strong and handsome type, 
 with all the glory of red initials.' Glasgow Herald. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By JOHN KEBLE. With an Intro- 
 duction and Notes by W. LOCK, D.D., Warden of Keble College, 
 Ireland, Professor at Oxford. Illustrated by R. ANNING BELL. 
 
 ' The present edition is annotated with all the care and insight to be expected from 
 Mr. Lock. The progress and circumstances of its composition are detailed in the 
 Introduction. There is an interesting Appendix on the MSS. of the "Christian 
 Year," and another giving the order in which the poems were written. A " Short 
 Analysis of the Thought " is prefixed to each, and any difficulty in the text is ex- 
 plained in a note. 1 Guardian. 
 
 ' The most acceptable edition of this ever-popular work. 'Globe. 
 
 Leaders of Religion 
 
 Edited by H. C. BEECHING, M.A. With Portraits, crown Svo. 
 
 A series of short biographies of the most prominent leaders //" 
 
 of religious life and thought of all ages and countries. O / f") 
 
 The following are ready \J/ 
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. By R. H. HUTTON. 
 JOHN WESLEY. By J. H. OvERTON, M.A. 
 BISHOP WILBERFORCE. By G. W. DANIEL, M.A. 
 CARDINAL MANNING. By A. W. HUTTON, M.A. 
 CHARLES SIMEON. By H. C. G. MOULE, M.A. 
 JOHN KEBLE. By WALTER LOCK, D.D. 
 THOMAS CHALMERS. By Mrs. OLIPHANT. 
 LANCELOT ANDREWES. By R. L. OTTLEY, M.A. 
 AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY. By E. L. CUTTS, D.D. 
 WILLIAM LAUD. By W. H. HUTTON, B.D.
 
 MESSRS. METIIUEN'S LIST 25 
 
 JOHN KNOX. By F. M'CUNN. 
 JOHN HOWE. By R. F. HORTON, D.D. 
 BISHOP KEN. By F. A. CLARKE, M.A. 
 GEORGE FOX, THE QUAKER. By T. HODGKIN, D.C.L. 
 Other volumes will be announced in due course. 
 
 Fiction 
 
 SIX SHILLING NOVELS 
 
 Marie Corelli's Novels 
 
 Crown Svo. 6s. each. 
 
 A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. Sixteenth Edition. 
 VENDETTA. Thirteenth Edition. 
 THELMA. Seventeenth Edition. 
 ARDATH. Tenth Edition. 
 THE SOUL OF LILITH Ninth Edition. 
 WORMWOOD. Eighth Edition. 
 
 BARABBAS : A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY. 
 
 Thirty-first Edition. 
 
 ' The tender reverence of the treatment and the imaginative beauty of the writing 
 have reconciled us to the daring of the conception, and the conviction is forced on 
 us that even so exalted a subject cannot be made too familiar to us, provided it be 
 presented in the true spirit of Christian faith. The amplifications of the Scripture 
 narrative are often conceived with high poetic insight, and this "Dream of the 
 World's Tragedy " is, despite some trifling incongruities, a lofty and not inade- 
 quate paraphrase of the supreme climax of the inspired narrative.' Dublin 
 Review. 
 
 THE SORROWS OF SATAN. Thirty-sixth Edition. 
 
 ' A very powerful piece of work. . . . The conception is magnificent, and is likely 
 to win an abiding place within the memory of man. . . . The author has immense 
 command of language, and a limitless audacity. . . . This interesting and re- 
 markable romance will live long after much of the ephemeral literature of the day 
 is forgotten. ... A literary phenomenon . . . novel, and even sublime.' W. T. 
 STEAD in the Rei'ieiu of Reviews. 
 
 Anthony Hope's Novels 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 
 THE GOD IN THE CAR. Seventh Edition. 
 
 1 A very remarkable book, deserving of critical analysis impossible within our limit ; 
 brilliant, but not superficial ; well considered, but not elaborated ; constructed 
 with the proverbial art that conceals, but yet allows itself to be enjoyed by readers 
 to whom fine literary method is a keen pleasure.' The World. 
 
 A CHANGE OF AIR. Fourth Edition. 
 
 'A graceful, vivacious comedy, true to human nature. The characters are traced 
 with a masterly hand.' Times. 
 
 A MAN OF MARK. Fourth Edition. 
 
 4 Of all Mr. Hope's books, " A Man of Mark " is the one which best compares with 
 1 ' The Prisoner of Zenda." ' National Observer.
 
 26 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO. Third Edition. 
 
 ' It is a perfectly enchanting story of love and chivalry, and pure romance. The 
 outlawed Count is the most constant, desperate, and withal modest and tender of 
 lovers, a peerless gentleman, an intrepid fighter, a very faithful friend, and a most 
 magnanimous foe.' Guardian. 
 
 PHROSO. Illustrated by H. R. MILLAR. Third Edition. 
 
 ' The tale is thoroughly fresh, quick with vitality, stirring the blood, and humorously, 
 
 dashingly told.' St. James's Gazette. 
 1 A story of adventure, every page of which is palpitating with action and excitement. ' 
 
 Speaker. 
 ' From cover to cover " Phroso " not only engages the attention, but carries the reader 
 
 in little whirls of delight from adventure to adventure." Academy. 
 
 S. Baring Gould's Novels 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 
 
 'To say that a book is by the author of " Mehalah" is to imply that it contains a 
 story cast on strong lines, containing dramatic possibilities, vivid and sympathetic 
 descriptions of Nature, and a wealth of ingenious imagery.' Speaker. 
 ' That whatever Mr. Baring Gould writes is well worth reading, is a conclusion that 
 may be very generally accepted. His views of life are fresh and vigorous, his 
 language pointed and characteristic, the incidents of which he makes use are 
 striking and original, his characters are life-like, and though somewhat excep- 
 tional people, are drawn and coloured with artistic force. Add to this that his 
 descriptions of scenes and scenery are painted with the loving eyes and skilled 
 hands of a master of his art, that he is always fresh and never dull, and under 
 such conditions it is no wonder that readers have gained confidence both in his 
 power of amusing and satisfying them, and that year by year his popularity 
 widens." Court Circular. 
 
 ARM I NELL : A Social Romance. Fourth Edition. 
 URITH : A Story of Dartmoor. Fifth Edition. 
 
 ' The author is at his best.' Times, 
 
 IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. Sixth Edition. 
 
 'One of the best imagined and most enthralling stories the author has produced. 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. Fourth Edition. 
 
 1 The swing of the narrative is splendid.' Sussex Daily News. 
 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA. Fourth Edition. 
 
 1 A powerful drama of human passion." Westminster Gazette. 
 'A story worthy the author." National Observer. 
 
 THE QUEEN OF LOVE. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' You cannot put it down until you have finished it." Punch. 
 
 1 Can be heartily recommended to all who care for cleanly, energetic, and interesting 
 fiction." Sussex Daily News. 
 
 KITTY ALONE. Fourth Edition. 
 
 'A strong and original story, teeming with graphic description, stirring incident, 
 and, above all, with vivid and enthralling human interest.' Daily Telegraph. 
 
 NOEMI : A Romance of the Cave- Dwellers. Illustrated by 
 R. CATON WOODVILLE. Third Edition. 
 
 1 " Noe"mi " is as excellent a tale of fighting and adventure as one may wish to meet. 
 
 The narrative also runs clear and sharp as the Loire itself." Pall Mall Gazette. 
 'Mr. Baring Gould's powerful story is full of the strong lights and shadows and 
 
 vivid colouring to which he has accustomed us." Standard,
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 27 
 
 THE BROOM -SQUIRE. Illustrated by FRANK DADD. 
 
 Fourth Edition. 
 ' A strain of tenderness is woven through the web of his tragic tale, and its atmosphere 
 
 is sweetened by the nobility and sweetness of the heroine's character.' Dally News. 
 1 A story of exceptional interest that seems to us to be better than anything he has 
 
 written oflate.' Speaker* 
 
 THE PENNYCOMEQUICKS. Third Edition. 
 DARTMOOR IDYLLS. 
 
 'A book to read, and keep and read again ; for the genuine fun and pathos of it will 
 not early lose their effect.' Vanity Fair. 
 
 GUAVAS THE TINNER. Illustrated by Frank Dadd. Second 
 
 Edition. 
 ' Mr. Baring Gould Is a wizard who transports us into a region of visions, often lurid 
 
 and disquieting, but always full of interest and enchantment.' Spectator. 
 ' In the weirdne_ss of the story, in the faithfulness with which the characters are 
 
 depicted, and in force of style, it closely resembles ' ' Mehalah. " ' Daily Telegraph. 
 1 There is a kind of flavour about this book which alone elevates it above the ordinary 
 
 novel. The story itself has a grandeur in harmony with the wild and rugged 
 
 scenery which is Us setting. ' A themeum. 
 
 Gilbert Parker's Novels 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 
 PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' Stories happily conceived and finely executed. There is strength and genius in Mr. 
 Parker's style.' Daily Telegraph. 
 
 MRS. FALCHION. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' A splendid study of character." Athcnaum. 
 
 1 But little behind anything -that has been done by any writer of our time.' Pall 
 Mall Gazette. 'A very striking and admirable novel.' St. James's Gazette. 
 
 THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE. 
 
 1 The plot is original and one difficult to work out ; but Mr. Parker has done it with 
 great skill and delicacy. The reader who is not interested in this original, fresh, 
 and well-told tale must be a dull person indeed.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. Fifth Edition. 
 
 'Everybody with a soul for romance will thoroughly enjoy "The Trail of the 
 Sword." ' St. James's Gazette. 
 
 ' A rousing and dramatic tale. A book like this, in which swords flash, great sur- 
 prises are undertaken, and daring deeds done, in which men and women live and 
 love in the old straightforward passionate way, is a joy inexpressible to the re- 
 viewer.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC : The Story of 
 
 a Lost Napoleon. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' Here w_e find romance real, breathing, living romance, but it runs flush with our 
 own times, level with our own feelings. The character of Valmond is drawn un- 
 erringly ; his career, brief as it is, is placed before us as convincingly as history 
 itself. The book must be read, we may say re-read, for any one thoroughly to 
 appreciate Mr. Parker's delicate touch and innate sympathy with humanity.' 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 'The one work of genius which 1895 has as yet produced.' Jfew Age. 
 
 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH : The Last Adven- 
 tures of ' Pretty Pierre.' Second Edition. 
 
 'The present book is full of fine and moving stories of the great North, and it wil! 
 add to Mr. Parker's already high reputation.' Glasgow tlerald.
 
 28 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. Illustrated. Eighth Edition. 
 
 ' The best thing he has done ; one of the best things that any one has done lately.' 
 
 St. James's Gazette. 
 'Mr. Parker seems to become stronger and easier with every serious novel that be 
 
 attempts. . . . In " The Seats of the Mighty " he shows the matured power which 
 
 his former novels have led us to expect, and has produced a really fine historical 
 
 novel. . . . Most sincerely is Mr. Parker to be congratulated on the finest 
 
 novel he has yet written.' Athenaum. 
 'Mr. Parker's latest book places him in the front rank of living novelists. "The 
 
 Seats of the Mighty" is a great book.' Black and White. 
 ' One of the strongest stories of historical interest and adventure that we have read 
 
 for many a day. ... A notable and successful book.' Speaker. 
 
 Conan Doyle. ROUND THE RED LAMP. By A. CONAN 
 DOYLE, Author of 'The White Company,' 'The Adventures of 
 Sherlock Holmes,' etc. Fifth Edition. Crown 8v0. 6s. 
 ' The book is, indeed, composed of leaves from life, and is far and away the best view 
 that has been vouchsafed us behind the scenes of the consulting-room. It is very 
 superior to ' ' The Diary of a late Physician. " ' Illustrated London Nevus. 
 
 Stanley Weyman. UNDER THE RED ROBE. By STANLEY 
 WEYMAN, Author of ' A Gentleman of France.' With Twelve Illus- 
 trations by R. Caton Woodville. Twelfth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 'A book of which we have read every word for the sheer pleasure of reading, and 
 which we put down with a pang that we cannot forget it all and start again.' 
 Westminster Gazette. 
 
 ' Every one who reads books at all must read this thrilling romance, from the first 
 page of which to the last the breathless reader is haled along. An inspiration of 
 " manliness and courage." ' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 Lucas Malet. THE WAGES OF SIN. By LUCAS 
 MAT.ET. Thirteenth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Lucas Malet. THE CARISSIMA. By LUCAS MALET, 
 Author of 'The Wages of Sin,' etc. Third Edition. Crown%vo. 6s. 
 
 Arthur Morrison. TALES OF MEAN STREETS. By ARTHUR 
 
 MORRISON. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Told with consummate art and extraordinary detail. He tells a plain, unvarnished 
 tale, and the very truth of it makes for beauty. In the true humanity of the book 
 lies its justification, the permanence of its interest, and its indubitable triumph.' 
 A thenafum. 
 
 it would not make the mark it is certain to make.' World. 
 
 Arthur Morrison. A CHILD OF THE JAGO. By ARTHUR 
 
 MORRISON. Third Edition. Crown %vo. (>s. 
 This, the first long story which Mr. Morrison has written, is like his remarkable 
 
 'Tales of Mean Streets,' a realistic study of East End life. 
 ' The book is a masterpiece.' Pall Mall Gazette. 
 'Told with great vigour and powerful simplicity.' AtJiencsum. 
 
 Mrs. Clifford. A FLASH OF SUMMER. By Mrs. W. K. CLIF- 
 FORD, Author of ' Aunt Anne,' etc. Second Edition. CrownSvo. 6s. 
 ' The story is a very sad and a very beautiful one, exquisitely told, and enriched with 
 many subtle touches of wise and tender insight. It willj undoubtedly, add to its 
 author's reputation already high in the ranks of novelists.' Speaker.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 29 
 
 Emily Lawless. HURRISH. By the Honble. EMILY LAW- 
 LESS, Author of ' Maelcho,' etc. Fifth Edition. Crown 8v0. 6s. 
 A reissue of Miss Lawless' most popular novel, uniform with ' Maelcho.' 
 
 Emily Lawless. MAELCHO : a Sixteenth Century Romance. 
 By the Ilonble. EMILY LAWLESS. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A really great book.' Spectator. 
 
 1 There is no keener pleasure in life than the recognition of genius. Good work is 
 commoner than it used to be, but the best is as rare as ever. All the more 
 gladly, therefore, do we welcome in " Maelcho " a piece of work of the first order, 
 which we do not hesitate to describe as one of the most remarkable literary 
 achievements of this generation. Miss Lawless is possessed of the very essence 
 of historical %tm\K.' Manchester Guardian. 
 
 J. H. Findlater. THE GREEN GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE. 
 
 By JANE H. FINDLATER. Third Edition. Crown &vo. 6s. 
 'A powerful and vivid story.' Standard. 
 
 ' A beautiful story, sad and strange as truth itself.' Vanity Fair. 
 ' A work of remarkable interest and originality.' National Observer. 
 ' A very charming and pathetic tale.' Pall Mall Gazette. 
 ' A singularly original, clever, and beautiful story." Guardian. 
 ' " The Green Graves of Balgowrie" reveals to us a new Scotch writer of undoubted 
 
 faculty and reserve force.' Spectator. 
 'An exquisite idyll, delicate, affecting, and beautiful. 1 Black and White. 
 
 H. G. Wells. THE STOLEN BACILLUS, and other Stories. 
 By H. G. WELLS, Author of ' The Time Machine.' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' The ordinary reader of fiction may be glad to know that these stories are eminently 
 readable from one cover to the other, but they are more than that ; they are the 
 impressions of a very striking imagination, which, it would seem, has a great deal 
 within its reach.' Saturday Review. 
 
 H. O. Wells. THE PLATTNER STORY AND OTHERS. ByH. 
 
 G. WELLS. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Weird and mysterious, they seem to hold the reader as by a magic spell.' Scotsman. 
 ' Such is the fascination of this writer's skill that you unhesitatingly prophesy that 
 
 none of the many readers, however his flesh do creep, will relinquish the volume 
 
 ere he has read from first word to last.' Black and White. 
 ' No volume has appeared for a long time so likely to give equal pleasure to the 
 
 simplest reader and to the most fastidious critic.' Academy. 
 ' Mr. Wells is a magician skilled in wielding that most potent of all spells the fear 
 
 of the unknown.' Daily Telegraph. 
 
 E. F. Benson, DODO : A DETAIL OF THE DAY. By E. F. 
 
 BENSON. Sixteenth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 1 A delightfully witty sketch of society.' Spectator. 
 ' A perpetual feast of epigram and paradox.' Speaker. 
 
 E. F. Benson. THE RUBICON. By E. F. BENSON, Author of 
 
 ' Dodo." Fifth Edition. Crown &vo. 6s. 
 
 ' An exceptional achievement ; a notable advance on his previous work.' National 
 Observer. 
 
 Mrs. Olipnant. SIR ROBERT'S FORTUNE. By MRS. 
 OLIPHANT. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Full of her own peculiar charm of style and simple, subtle character- painting comes 
 her new gift, the delightful story before us. The scene mostly lies in the moors, 
 and at the touch of the authoress a Scotch moor becomes a living thing, strong, 
 tender, beautiful, and changeful.' Pall Mall Gazette.
 
 30 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 Mrs. Oliphant. THE TWO MARYS. By MRS. OLIPHANT. 
 
 Second Edition. Crown 8z>0. 6s. 
 
 W. E. Norris. MATTHEW AUSTIN. By W. E. NORRIS, Author 
 of Mademoiselle de Mersac,' etc. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 "Matthew Austin" may safely be pronounced one of the most intellectually satis- 
 factory and morally bracing novels of the current year.' Daily Telegraph. 
 
 W. E. Norris. HIS GRACE. By W. E. NORRIS. Third 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Mr. Norris has drawn a really fine character in the Duke of Hurstbourne, at once 
 unconventional and very true to the conventionalities of life." Athen&um. 
 
 W. E. Norris. THE DESPOTIC LADY AND OTHERS. 
 
 By W. E. NORRIS. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' A budget of good fiction of which no one will tire.' Scotsman. 
 
 W. E. Norris. CLARISSA FURIOSA. By W. E. NORRIS, 
 
 Author of ' The Rogue,' etc. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' One of Mr. Norris 's very best novels. As a story it is admirable, as a jen tfesjirit 
 it is capital, as a lay sermon studded with gems of wit and wisdom it is a model 
 which will not, we imagine, find an efficient imitator.' The World. 
 
 ' The best novel he has written for some time : a story which is full of admirable 
 character-drawing." The Standard. 
 
 Robert Ban. IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. By ROBERT 
 BARR. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A book which has abundantly satisfied us by its capital humour.' Daily Chronicle. 
 1 Mr. Barr has achieved a triumph whereof he has every reason to be proud.' Pall 
 Mall Gazette. 
 
 J. Maclaren Cobban. THE KING OF ANDAMAN : A 
 Saviour of Society. By J. MACLAREN COBBAN. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' An unquestionably interesting book. It would not surprise us if it turns out to be 
 the most interesting novel of the season, for it contains one character, at least, 
 who has in him the root of immortality, and the book itself is ever exhaling the 
 sweet savour of the unexpected. . . . Plot is forgotten and incident fades, and 
 only the really human endures, and throughout this book there stands out in bold 
 and beautiful relief its high-souled and chivalric protagonist, James the Master 
 of Hutcheon, the King of Andaman himself.' Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 J. Maclaren Cobban. WILT THOU HAVE THIS WOMAN ? 
 By J. M. COBBAN, Author of ' The King of Andaman.' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Mr. Cobban has the true story-teller's art. He arrests attention at the outset, and 
 he retains it to the end." Birmingham Post. 
 
 H. Morrah. A SERIOUS COMEDY. By HERBERT MORRAH. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' This volume is well worthy of its title. The theme has seldom been presented with 
 more freshneM or more force.' Scotsman.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 31 
 
 H. Morrah. THE FAITHFUL CITY. By HERBERT MORRAH, 
 
 Author of ' A Serious Comedy. ' Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 'Conveys a suggestion of weirdness and horror, until finally he convinces and 
 enthrals the reader with his mysterious savages, his gigantic tower, and his 
 uncompromising men and women. This is a haunting, mysterious book, not 
 without an element of stupendous grandeur.' Athetueum. 
 
 L. B. Walford. SUCCESSORS TO THE TITLE. By MRS. 
 
 WALFORD, Author of ' Mr. Smith, 'etc. Second Edition. Crow n 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' The story is fresh and healthy from beginning to finish ; and our liking for the two 
 
 simple people who are the successors to the title mounts rteadily, and ends almost 
 
 in respect. Scotsman. 
 
 T. L. Paton. A HOME IN INVERESK. By T. L. PATON. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 'A pleasant and well-written story.' Daily Chronicle. 
 
 John Davidson. MISS ARMSTRONG'S AND OTHER CIR- 
 CUMSTANCES. By JOHN DAVIDSON. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Throughout the volume there is a strong vein of originality, and a knowledge of 
 human nature that are worthy of the highest praise.' Scotsman. 
 
 M. M. Dowie. GALLIA. By MENIE MURIEL DOWIE, Author 
 
 of ' A Girl in the Carpathians. ' Third Edition. Crown %>vo. 6s. 
 'The style is generally admirable, the dialogue not seldom brilliant, the situations 
 surprising in their freshness and originality, while the subsidiary as well as the 
 principal characters live and move, and the story itself is readable from title-page 
 to colophon." Saturday Review. 
 
 J. A. Barry. IN THE GREAT DEEP : TALES OF THE SEA. 
 By J. A. BARRY. Author of ' Steve Brown's Bunyip.' Crown %vo. 6s. 
 'A collection of really admirable short stories of the sea, very simply told, and placed 
 before the reader in pithy and telling English.' Westminster Gazette. 
 
 J. B. Burton. IN THE DAY OF ADVERSITY. By J. BLOUN- 
 
 DELLE BURTON.' Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 ' Unusually interesting and full of highly dramatic situations.' Guardian. 
 
 J. B. Burton. DENOUNCED. By J. BLOUNDELLE BURTON. 
 
 Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 The plot is an original one, and the local colouring is laid on with a delicacy 
 and an accuracy of detail which denote the true artist.' Broad Arrow. 
 
 W. 0. Scully. THE WHITE HECATOMB. By W. C. 
 
 SCULLY, Author of ' Kafir Stories.' Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 ' The author is so steeped in Kaffir lore and legend, and so thoroughly well acquainted 
 with native sagas and traditional ceremonial that he is able to attract the reader 
 by the easy familiarity with which he handles his characters.' South Africa. 
 
 1 It reveals a marvellously intimate understanding of the Kaffir mind, allied with 
 literary gifts of no mean order." African Critic. 
 
 H. Johnston. DR. CONGALTON'S LEGACY. By HENRY 
 N JOHNSTON. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A worthy and permanent contribution to Scottish literature.' Glatftw Herald.
 
 32 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 J. F. Brewer. THE SPECULATORS. By J. F. BREWER. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 6s, 
 
 ' A pretty bit of comedy. . . . It is undeniably a clever booK.' Academy. 
 'A clever and amusing story. It makes capital out of the comic aspects of culture, 
 
 and will be read with amusement by every intellectual reader.' Scotsman. 
 'A remarkably clever study.' Vanity Fair. 
 
 Julian Corbett. A BUSINESS IN GREAT WATERS. By 
 JULIAN CORBETT. Crown 8z'0. 6s. 
 
 1 Mr. Corbett writes with immense spirit, and the book is a thoroughly enjoyable 
 one in all respects. The salt of the ocean is in it, and the right heroic ring re- 
 sounds through its gallant adventures.' Speaker. 
 
 L. Cope Cornford. CAPTAIN JACOBUS : A ROMANCE OF 
 THE ROAD. By L. COPE CORNFORD. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' An exceptionally good story of adventure and character.' World. 
 
 0. P. Wolley. THE QUEENSBERRY CUP. A Tale of 
 
 Adventure. By CLIVE PHILLIPS WOLLEY. Illustrated. Crown 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A book which will delight boys : a book which upholds the healthy schoolboy code 
 of morality.' Scotsman. 
 
 L. Daintrey. THE KING OF ALBERIA. A Romance of 
 the Balkans. By LAURA DAINTREY. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Miss Daintrey seems to have an intimate acquaintance with the people and politics 
 of the Balkan countries in which the scene of her lively and picturesque romance 
 is laid.' Glasgow Herald. 
 
 M. A. Owen. THE DAUGHTER OF ALOUETTE. By 
 MARY A. OWEN. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 A story of life among the American Indians. 
 'A fascinating story.' Literary World. 
 
 Mrs. Pinsent. CHILDREN OF THIS WORLD. By ELLEN 
 
 F. PINSENT, Author of Jenny's Case.' Crown 8z'o. 6s. 
 ' Mrs. Pinsent's new novel has plenty of vigour, variety, and good writing. There 
 are certainty of purpose, strength of touch, and clearness of vision.' Atheneeum. 
 
 Clark Russell. MY DANISH SWEETHEART. By W. 
 CLARK RUSSELL, Author of ' The Wreck of the Grosvenor,' etc. 
 Illustrated. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 G. Manville Fenn. AN ELECTRIC SPARK. By G. MANVILLE 
 FENN, Author of ' The Vicar's Wife,' 'A Double Knot,' etc. Second 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 L. S. McChesney. UNDER SHADOW OF THE MISSION. 
 
 By L. S. McCHESNEY. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Those whose minds are open to the finer issues of life, who can appreciate graceful 
 thought and refined expression of it, from them this volume will receive a welcome 
 as enthusiastic as it will be based on critical knowledge.' Church Times. 
 
 Ronald Ross. THE SPIRIT OF STORM. By RONALD 
 Ross, Author of ' The Child of Ocean. ' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 A romance of the Sea. ' Weird, powerful, and impressive. 1 Black and White.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 33 
 
 E. Pryce. TIME AND THE WOMAN. By RICHARD PRYCE. 
 
 Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 Mrs. Watson. THIS MAN'S DOMINION. By the Author 
 of A High Little World.' Second Edition. Crown 8zv. 6s. 
 
 Marriott Watson. DIOGENES OF LONDON. By 
 H. B. MARRIOTT WATSON. Crown 8vo. Buckram. 6s. 
 
 M. Gilchrist. THE STONE DRAGON. By MURRAY GIL- 
 CHRIST. Crown %vo. Buckratn. 6s. 
 
 'The author's faults are ntoned for by certain positive and admirable merits. The 
 romances have not their counterpart in modern literature, and to read them is a 
 unique experience.' National Observer. 
 
 E. Dickinson. A VICAR'S WIFE. By EVELYN DICKINSON. 
 Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 E. M. Gray. ELSA. By E. M'QUEEN GRAY. Crown 8ve>. 6s. 
 
 3/6 
 
 THREE-AND-SIXPENNY NOVELS 
 
 Crown $vo. 
 
 DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. By EDNA LYALL. 
 MARGERY OF QUETHER. By S. BARING GOULD. 
 JACQUETTA. By S. BARING GOULD. 
 SUBJECT TO VANITY. By MARGARET BENSON. 
 THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER. By BERTRAM MITFORD. 
 THE MOVING FINGER. By MARY GAUNT. 
 JACO TRELOAR. By J. H. PEARCE. 
 THE DANCE OF THE HOURS. By 1 VERA.' 
 A WOMAN OF FORTY. By ESM STUART. 
 A CUMBERER OF THE GROUND. By CONSTANCE 
 
 SMITH. 
 
 THE SIN OF ANGELS. By EVELYN DICKINSON. 
 AUT DIABOLUS AUT NIHIL. By X. L. 
 THE COMING OF CUCULAIN. By STANDISH O'GRADY. 
 THE GODS GIVE MY DONKEY WINGS. By ANGUS 
 
 EVAN ABBOTT. 
 
 THE STAR GAZERS. By G. MANVILLE FENN. 
 THE POISON OF ASPS. By R. ORTON PROWSE. 
 THE QUIET MRS. FLEMING. By R. PRYCE. 
 DISENCHANTMENT. By F. MABEL ROBINSON. 
 THE SQUIRE OF WANDALES. By A. SHIELD. 
 A REVEREND GENTLEMAN. By J. M. COBBAN.
 
 34 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 A DEPLORABLE AFFAIR. By W. E. NORRIS. 
 
 A CAVALIER'S LADYE. By Mrs. DICKER. 
 
 THE PRODIGALS. By Mrs. OLIPHANT. 
 
 THE SUPPLANTER. By P. NEUMANN. 
 
 A MAN WITH BLACK EYELASHES. By H. A. KENNEDY. 
 
 A HANDFUL OF EXOTICS. By S. GORDON. 
 
 AN ODD EXPERIMENT. By HANNAH LYNCH. 
 
 2/6 
 
 HALF-CROWN NOVELS 
 
 A Series of Novels by popular Authors. 
 
 1. HOVENDEN, V.C. By F. MABEL ROBINSON. 
 
 2. ELI'S CHILDREN. By G. MANVILLE FENN. 
 
 3. A DOUBLE KNOT. By G. MANVILLE FENN. 
 
 4. DISARMED. By M. BETHAM EDWARDS. 
 
 5. A MARRIAGE AT SEA. By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 
 
 6. IN TENT AND BUNGALOW. By the Author of ' Indian 
 
 Idylls.' 
 
 7. MY STEWARDSHIP. By E. M'QuEEN GRAY. 
 
 8. JACK'S FATHER. By W. E. NORRIS. 
 
 9. JIM B. 
 
 10. THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. By F. MABEL ROBINSON. 
 
 11. MR. BUTLER'S WARD. By F. MABEL ROBINSON. 
 
 12. A LOST ILLUSION. By LESLIE KEITH. 
 
 Lynn Linton. THE TRUE HISTORY OF JOSHUA DAVID- 
 SON, Christian and Communist. By E. LYNN LINTON. Eleventh 
 Edition. Post Svo. is. 
 
 Books for Boys and Girls 
 
 A Series of Books by well-known Authors, well illustrated. 
 
 1. THE ICELANDER'S SWORD. By S. BARING GOULD. 
 
 2. TWO LITTLE CHILDREN AND CHING. By EDITH 
 
 E. CUTHELL. 
 
 3. TODDLEBEN'S HERO. By M. M. BLAKE. 
 
 4. ONLY A GUARD-ROOM DOG. By EDITH E. CUTHELL. 
 
 5. THE DOCTOR OF THE JULIET. By HARRY COLLINC- 
 
 WOOD. 
 
 6. MASTER ROCKAFELLAR'S VOYAGE. By W. CLARK 
 
 RUSSELL. 
 
 7. SYD BELTON : Or, The Boy who would not go to Sea. 
 
 By G. MANVILLE FENN.
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 35 
 
 The Peacock Library 
 
 3/6 
 
 A Series of Books for Girls by well-known Authors, 
 handsomely bound in blue and silver, and well illustrated. 
 
 1. A PINCH OF EXPERIENCE. By L. B. WALFORD. 
 
 2. THE RED GRANGE. By Mrs. MOLESWORTH. 
 
 3. THE SECRET OF MADAME DE MONLUC. By the 
 
 Author of ' Mdle Mori.' 
 
 4. DUMPS. By Mrs. PARR, Author of 'Adam and Eve. 1 
 
 5. OUT OF THE FASHION. By L. T. MEADE. 
 
 6. A GIRL OF THE PEOPLE. By L. T. MEADE. 
 
 7. HEPSY GIPSY. By L. T. MEADE. zs. 6d. 
 
 8. THE HONOURABLE MISS. By L. T. MEADE. 
 
 9. MY LAND OF BEULAH. By Mrs. LEITH ADAMS. 
 
 University Extension Series 
 
 A scries of books on historical, literary, and scientific subjects, suitable 
 for extension students and home-reading circles. Each volume is com- 
 plete in itself, and the subjects are treated by competent writers in a 
 broad and philosophic spirit. 
 
 Edited byj. E. SYMES, M.A., 
 
 Principal of University College, Nottingham. 
 
 Crown 8vo. Price (with some exceptions} 2s. 6d. 
 
 The following volumes are ready : 
 
 THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By H. DE B. GIUKINS, 
 D.Litt. , M.A., late Scholar of Wadham College, Oxon., Cobden Prizeman. 
 Fifth Edition, Revised. With Maps and Plans, y. 
 
 'A compact and clear story of our industrial development. A study of this concise 
 but luminous book cannot fail to give the reader a clear insight into the principal 
 phenomena of our industrial history. The editor and publishers are to be congrat- 
 ulated on this first volume of their venture, and we shall look wilh expectant 
 interest for the succeeding volumes of the series.' University Extension Journal. 
 
 A HISTORY OF ENGLISH POLITICAL ECONOMY. By L. L. PRICE, 
 M.A. , Fellow of Oriel College, Oxon. Second Edition. 
 
 PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An Inquiry into the Industrial Conditions of 
 the Poor. By J. A. HOBSON, M.A. Third Edition. 
 
 VICTORIAN POETS. By A. SHARP. 
 
 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. By J. E. SYMES, M.A. 
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. By F. S. GRANGER, M.A.
 
 36 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF PLANT LIFE : Lower Forms. By G. MASSEE. 
 
 With Illustrations. 
 
 AIR AND WATER. Professor V. B. LEWES, M.A. Illustrated. 
 THE CHEMISTRY OF LIFE AND HEALTH. By C. W. KIMMINS, 
 
 M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 THE MECHANICS OF DAILY LIFE. By V. P. SELLS, M.A. Illustrated. 
 ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. H. DE B. GIBBINS, D.Litt., M.A. 
 
 ENGLISH TRADE AND FINANCE IN THE SEVENTEENTH 
 CENTURY. By W. A. S. HEWINS, B.A. 
 
 THE CHEMISTRY OF FIRE. The Elementary Principles of Chemistry. 
 By M. M. PATTISON MUIR, M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 A TEXT-BOOK OF AGRICULTURAL BOTANY. By M. C. POTTER, 
 M.A.. F.L.S. Illustrated. 35. 6d. 
 
 THE VAULT OF HEAVEN. A Popular Introduction to Astronomy. 
 By R. A. GREGORY. With numerous Illustrations. 
 
 METEOROLOGY. The Elements of Weather and Climate. By H. N. 
 DICKSON, F.R.S.E., F.R. Met. Soc. Illustrated. 
 
 A MANUAL OF ELECTRICAL SCIENCE. By GEORGE J. BUKCH, 
 M.A. With numerous Illustrations, y. 
 
 THE EARTH. An Introduction to Physiography. By EVAN SMALL, M.A. 
 Illustrated. 
 
 INSECT LIFE. By F. W. THEOBALD, M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 ENGLISH POETRY FROM BLAKE TO BROWNING. By W. M. 
 
 DIXON, M.A. 
 ENGLISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. By E. JENKS, M.A., Professor of 
 
 Law at University College, Liverpool. 
 THE GREEK VIEW OF LIFE. By G. L. DICKINSON, Fellow of King's 
 
 College, Cambridge. 
 
 Social Questions of To-day 
 
 Edited by H. DE B. GIBBINS, D.Litt., M.A. 
 Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 2/6 
 
 A series of volumes upon those topics of social, economic, 
 and industrial interest that are at the present moment fore- 
 most in the public mind. Each volume of the series is written by an 
 author who is an. acknowledged authority upon the subject with which 
 he deals. 
 
 The following Volumes of the Series are ready : 
 
 TRADE UNIONISM NEW AND OLD. By G. HOWELL, Author of 
 ' The Conflicts of Capital and Labour.' Second Edition. 
 
 THE CO-OPERATIVE MOVEMENT TO-DAY. By G. J. HOLYOAKE, 
 Author of ' The History of Co-Operation.' Second Edition. 
 
 MUTUAL THRIFT. By Rev. J. FROME WILKINSON, M.A., Author of 
 ' The Friendly Society Movement.'
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST 37 
 
 PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An Inquiry into the Industrial Conditions of 
 the Poor. By J. A. HOBSON, M.A. Third Edition. 
 
 THE COMMERCE OF NATIONS. By C. F. BASTAPLE, M.A., Professor 
 of Economics at Trinity College, Dublin. 
 
 THE ALIEN INVASION. By W. H. WILKINS. B.A., Secretary to the 
 Society for Preventing the Immigration of Destitute Aliens. 
 
 THE RURAL EXODUS. By P. ANDERSON GRAHAM. 
 LAND NATIONALIZATION. By HAROLD Cox, B.A. 
 
 A SHORTER WORKING DAY. By H. DE B. GIBBINS, D.Litt., M.A,, 
 and R. A. HADFIELD, of the Hecla Works, Sheffield. 
 
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