The Felon's Track; Or, History of the Attempted Outbreak in Ireland: Embracing the Leading Events in the Irish Struggle From the Year 1843 to the Close of 1848Doheny, Michael
History
The Felon's Track; Or, History of the Attempted Outbreak in Ireland: Embracing the Leading Events in the Irish Struggle From the Year 1843 to the Close of 1848
Doheny, Michael
Ireland -- History -- Rising of 1848; Young Ireland Party -- History; Young Ireland movement
[Illustration: Aheny Hill, showing the Constabulary Barrack destroyed by
the Insurgents. 1848]
Night soon fell drearily upon the water. I engaged a berth from one of
the sailors, and before half an hour, lost all consciousness of country
and friends, of wind and tide, and hope, and shame, and peril, in
tranquil repose. On ascending next morning, the shores of England were
in view, and we sailed up the channel to the mouth of the Avon under a
calm and mellow sky. I had some breakfast with one of the cowherds. We
were delayed several hours waiting for the tide, which were spent for
the most part in making difficult evolutions; and exhibiting to the
cabin passengers the peculiar qualities of the _Juverna_. Night had
fallen before we reached Bristol, and I slipped away from the boat, amid
the confusion and bustle which checked the progress of the gay and rich,
around whose footsteps avarice had gathered an eager and jostling crowd.
Rude contact with, and unsavoury odours from, the unclean multitude
shocked their nervous sensibility, as they made their way to their
hotels amidst obtrusive obsequiousness, while the lone outlaw's pathway
lay free through the open street and uncontaminated air. But a wretched
exterior has its disadvantages also. I dared not present myself at a
hotel, and many of the humbler hostelries refused me admittance,
believing, no doubt, either that the seeds of pestilence were in my
rags, or not a copper in my pocket. Indeed, to no brain but that of a
very imaginative genius would the possibility of such a superfluity as
a pocket suggest itself. All the beds were "full." At last I thought me
of an expedient. I called for a glass of ale, for which payment in
advance was duly demanded. I handed a sovereign, which at once emptied a
bed, provided I slept in a room with another person which I refused,
feeling that I had acquired a footing. I had something to eat, and
finally found that there was a vacant room.
The next day was Sunday. No trains travelled to London except third
class. This was rather unlucky, for I was aware that certain straitened
gentlemen were often obliged, by stress of circumstances--the pressure
of business which brooked not a moment's delay--reluctantly to avail
themselves of this mode of conveyance. I felt, too, that the loyalty of
these slender aristocrats, was on a par with the unhappy incidents which
compelled them to consort with vulgar people, that is to say, so
constrained, that however much against the impulses of their generous
natures, they could not omit any opportunity of manifesting the
sentiment in its full intensity, I selected my company on this occasion,
being only anxious to exclude the "_arbiters elegantiarum_," Of my
"_compagnons de voyage_," some were in gin, some in fumes and some in
glee, and the journey passed off without an incident.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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