The O'Donoghue: Tale of Ireland Fifty Years AgoLever, Charles
General
The O'Donoghue: Tale of Ireland Fifty Years Ago
Lever, Charles
Ireland -- Fiction
In proportion as any fact occurred to throw discredit on the testimony
of each, he who proffered it became a thousand times more firm and
resolute in his assertion--circumstances dubious a moment before, were
then suddenly remembered and sworn to, with numerous little aids to
corroboration newly recalled to mind. To one point, however, all the
evidence more or less converged, and that was, to accuse Terry of
being the cause, or at least an accomplice in the transaction. Poor
fellow--his own devotedness had made enemies for him every where--the
alacrity with which he mounted the burning stack was an offence not soon
to be forgotten by those who neither risked life nor limb; nor were the
taunts he lavished on their sluggish backwardness to be forgiven now.
Unhappily, too, Terry was not a favourite among the servants: he
had never learnt how much deference is due from the ragged man to the
pampered menial of a rich household; he had not been trained to that
subserviency of demeanour which should mark the intercourse of a
poor, houseless, friendless creature like himself, with the tagged
and lace-covered servants of a wealthy master. Terry, by some strange
blunder of his nature, imagined that, in his freedom and independence,
he was the better man of the two; he knew that to do nothing, was
the prerogative of the great; and as he fulfilled that condition to a
considerable extent, he fancied he should enjoy its privileges also. For
this reason he had ever regarded the whole class of servants as greatly
his inferiors; and although he was ready and willing to peril his life
at any moment for Sir Marmaduke or his daughter, the merest common-place
services he would refuse to the others, without a moment's hesitation.
Neither intimidation could awe, nor bribery bend him--his nature knew
not what fear was in any shape, save one--that of being apprehended and
shot for a deserter--and as to any prospect of buying his good offices,
that was totally out of the question.
In an Irish household Terry's character would have been appreciated at
once. The respect which is never refused to any bereavement, but, in
particular, to that greatest of all afflictions, would have secured for
him, there, both forgiveness and affection--his waywardness and caprice
would have been a law to the least good-tempered servant of the family;
but Sir Marmaduke's retainers were all English, and had about as much
knowledge of, or sympathy with, such a creature, as he himself possessed
of London life and manners.
As his contempt was not measured by any scale of prudence, but coolly
evinced on every occasion of their intercourse, they, one and all,
detested him beyond bounds--most, asserting that he was a thoroughpaced
knave, whose folly was a garb assumed to secure a life of idleness--and
all, regarding him in the light of a spy, ever ready to betray them to
their master.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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