Dinner discussed, and its etceteras having been partaken, in full
consciousness of the comforts which surrounded me, contrasted with the
discomforts, &c. from which I had escaped,--I sank into an agreeable
reverie; and during a vision,--I must not call it a doze,--composed of
port wine and walnuts--the invigorating beams of Wallsend coal--an
occasional fancied jolt of the coach--the three mouthfuls of dinner, by
the name, I had gotten at Oxford--and the escape of my one neck, when,
goose as I was, I presented it where two seemed to be an essential by
the sign of the habitation and the dangers of the gate,--I was aroused
by a crash, something like the noise of the machine which accompanies
the falling of an avalanche or a castle, or some such direful affair at
"Astley's;" and starting up, I thought,--had the coach upset? but, much
to my gratification, found myself a safe "inside." Still came crash
after crash, until I thought it high time to see as well as hear. "What
on earth is the matter?" said I to the first waiter I met, as I
descended from the coffee-room, and got to the door of the "tap," or
room for accommodation of the lower grade of persons frequenting the
establishment. "Oh! sir," said he, "it is two dreadful Irishmen
fighting: one has broken a table on the other's head; the other smashed
a chair." I stopped short, and well do I recollect that the blood
rushed to my face as I turned away; I confess, too, that while
returning to the coffee-room, when the waiter followed and asked, should
he bring tea, I "cockneyfied" my accent as much as possible, in the hope
that he should not know I was an Irishman:--such was my shame for my
country at the moment.
Many minutes, however, had not elapsed until I felt shame another
way--namely, that I should for a moment deny the land which gave me
birth;--and I at once determined to ascertain the facts and particulars
of the outrage. Down I went, therefore, again, and entering the
tap-room, found that in truth a table had been broken, and a chair too,
not to speak at all of the heads; but, on further investigation, it
appeared that the table, being weak in constitution, sunk under the
weight of one of the belligerents, who jumped upon it to assail the
other with advantage,--and that the chair had been smashed by coming in
contact with the table; the gentleman on the ground having thought it
fair to use a chair in his defence when his enemy took to the larger
piece of furniture:--hence the awful crash, crash--that awoke me from
my--vision.
So far well--but further inquiry brought forth further truths. It came
out that one of the party had called the other "a beggarly bogtrotter,"
for which he received in reply a blow upon his nose. Thus the row
commenced; but better still, it appeared that _one_ of "the dreadful
Irishmen" _was a Welshman_! and that it was _he_ who called poor Paddy
"a bogtrotter."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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