My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the UnionWingfield, Lewis
History
My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the Union
Wingfield, Lewis
Historical fiction; Ireland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
Now the Ulster men of the middle and upper class were Orange as well
as Presbyterian. They looked upon a Catholic as a toad--an unclean
thing which had no business to be created--which must be hurried out
of life without delay, as a lesson to their Maker to make such
mistakes no more.
Therefore, upon this fact being made quite plain to them, their
patriotic ardour cooled amazingly, and they bade fair to rival the
excesses of their brethren down south.
At this very dinner a tipsy young 'half-mounted' told as a fine joke a
tale of what had happened at Armagh when he went there 't'other day to
buy a horse. A certain rapscallion,' he said, 'was suspected of having
some gunpowder concealed, contrary to the mandate of his Majesty.
Shots had been heard in the neighbourhood of his cabin--that was
enough. He denied the charge, and so must be made to confess. How was
it done? Mighty ingeniously, i' faith! He was hung up by the heels
with a rope full of twist, by which means he whirled round most
laughably, like a bird before the fire; while the soldiers lashed him
with their belts to make him speak. But his stupid old father spoiled
the joke; for upon his son calling on him for help he up with a
turf-spade and broke a soldier's pate open; upon which, of course, the
old fool had to be disembowelled.' The other sparks laughed with great
he-haws at; this funny anecdote, till one of them, looking at Miss
Wolfe, thought 'maybe the leedy didn't loike it.' And Shane, surprised
that his stiff cousin should be such a milksop, changed the subject to
the building of his towers. The stone being handy, they would take but
little time, he said. So soon as his task was complete he would send
down the yacht for these agreeable young sons of Mars, and entertain
them at his quaint old castle.
'It was indeed moighty koind in his lordship, to be sure; anything
they could do to obleege,' etc., etc. So there was a great shaking of
hands and display of newly-acquired military salutes, and everybody
was charmed with everybody, except Doreen, who voted them bears and
brutes, whilst they thought her stuck-up.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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