The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)Lever, Charles
History
The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)
Lever, Charles
Ireland -- History -- 1800-1837 -- Fiction; Ireland -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“My principles--don't smile at the word--led me into a stupid
altercation with a very pleasant acquaintance, and we parted to meet the
next morning in hostility,--at least, such was our understanding; but by
the time that our difference should have been settled, _I_ was carried
away on a stretcher to the Hôtel Dieu, wounded, and he was flung, a
corpse, into the Seine. I intended to have been a most accurate narrator
of events, journalizing for you, hour by hour, with all the stirring
excitement of the present tense, but I cannot; the crash and the hubbub
are still in my brain, and the infernal chaos of the streets is yet
over me. Not to speak of my wound,--a very ugly sabre-cut in the
neck,--severing I don't know what amount of nerves, arteries, and
such-like 'small deer,' every one of which, however, has its own
peculiar perils in the shape of aneurisms, tetanus, and so forth, in
case I am not a miracle of patience, calmness, and composure.
“The Martins are nursing and comforting and chicken-brothing me to my
heart's content, and La Henderson, herself an invalid, with a terrible
broken arm, comes and reads to me from time to time. What a girl it is!
Wounded in a street encounter, she actually carried Lady Dorothea into
a porte-cochère, and when they had lost their heads in terror, could
neither issue an order to the servants nor know what way to turn, she
took the guidance of the whole party, obtained horses and carriages and
an escort, escaped from Paris, and reached Versailles in the midst of
flying courtiers and dismayed ministers, and actually was the very first
to bring the tidings that the game of monarchy was up,--that the king
had nothing left for it but an inglorious flight. To the Duchesse de
Mire-court she made this communication, which it seems none of the
court-followers had the courage or honesty to do before. The Duchess, in
her terror, actually dragged her into the presence of the king, and made
her repeat what she had said. The scene, as told me, was quite dramatic;
the king took her hand to lead her to a seat, but it was unfortunately
of the wounded arm, and she fainted. The sight of the wounded limb so
affected the nerves of monarchy that he gave immediate orders to depart,
and was off within an hour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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