Irish Wit and Humor Part 14

A POLITICAL HURRAH AT A FUNERAL.

Ascending the mountain road between Dublin and Glencullen, in company with an English friend, O'Connell was met by a funeral. The mourners soon recognized him, and immediately broke into a vociferous hurrah for their political favorite, much to the astonishment of the Sa.s.senach; who, accustomed to the solemn and lugubrious decorum of English funerals, was not prepared for an outburst of Celtic enthusiasm upon such an occasion. A remark being made on the oddity of a political hurrah at a funeral, it was replied that the corpse would have doubtless cheered l.u.s.tily too, if he could.

REFUSAL OF OFFICE.

In 1838, on the morning when O'Connell received from the Government the offer to be appointed Lord Chief Baron, he walked over to the window, saying:

"This is very kind--very kind, indeed!--but I haven't the least notion of taking the offer. Ireland could not spare me now; not but that, _if she could_, I don't at all deny that the office would have great attractions for me. Let me see, now--there would not be more than about eight days' duty in the year; I would take a country house near Dublin, and walk into town; and during the intervals of judicial labor, I'd go to Derrynane. I should be idle in the early part of April, just when the jack-hares leave the most splendid trails upon the mountains. In fact, I should enjoy the office exceedingly upon every account, if I could but accept it consistently with the interests of Ireland--But I Cannot."

A MISTAKEN FRENCHMAN.

When travelling in France, during the time of his sojourn at St. Omer's, O'Connell encountered a very talkative Frenchman, who incessantly poured forth the most bitter tirades against England. O'Connell listened in silence; and the Frenchman, surprised at his indifference, at last exclaimed,--

"Do you hear, do you understand what I am saying, sir?"

"Yes, I hear you, I comprehend you perfectly."

"Yet you do not seem angry?"

"Not in the least."

"How can you so tamely bear the censures I p.r.o.nounce against your country?"

"Sir, England is not my country. Censure her as much as you please, you cannot offend me. I am an Irishman, and my countrymen have as little reason to love England as yours have, perhaps less."

EPISTOLARY BORES.

The number of letters received by O'Connell upon trivial subjects was sufficient to try his patience, as the following will show:--

A letter once arrived from New York, which, on opening, he found to contain a minute description of a Queen Anne's farthing recently found by the writer, with a modest request that "Ireland's Liberator" might negotiate the sale of the said farthing in London; where, as many intelligent persons had a.s.sured him, he might make his fortune by it.

Another modest correspondent was one Peter Waldron, also of New York, whose epistle ran thus:--"Sir, I have discovered an old paper, by which I find that my grandfather, Peter Waldron, left Dublin about the year 1730. You will very much oblige me by inst.i.tuting an immediate inquiry who the said Peter Waldron was; whether he possessed any property in Dublin or elsewhere, and to what amount; and in case that he did, you will confer a particular favor on me by taking immediate steps to recover it, and if successful, forwarding the amount to me at New York."

At another time a Protestant clergyman wrote to apprise him that he and his family were all in prayer for his conversion to the Protestant religion; and that the writer was anxious to engage in controversy with so distinguished an antagonist.

The letters with which he was persecuted, soliciting patronage, were innumerable. "Everybody writes to me about everything," said he, "and the applicants for places, without a single exception, tell me that _one word_ of mine will infallibly get them what they want. _One word_! Oh, how sick I am of that '_One word_!'"

Some of his rural correspondents entertained odd ideas of his attributes. He said that "from one of them he got a letter commencing with 'Awful Sir!'"

SIR R. PEEL'S OPINION OF O'CONNELL.

Sir Robert Peel is said to have expressed his high appreciation of O'Connell's parliamentary abilities. While the Reform Bill was under discussion, the speeches of its friends and foes were one day canva.s.sed at Lady Beauchamp's. On O'Connell's name being mentioned, some critic fastidiously said, "Oh, a broguing Irish fellow! who would listen to _him?_ I always walk out of the House when he opens his lips," "Come, Peel," said Lord Westmoreland, "let me hear your opinion." "My opinion candidly is," replied Sir Robert, "that if I wanted an efficient and eloquent advocate, I would readily give up all the other orators of whom we have been talking, provided I had with me this same broguing Irish fellow.'"

At the Bishop of Waterford's table, the following anecdote was related by O'Connell:

"My grandmother had twenty-two children, and half of them lived beyond the age of ninety. Old Mr. O'Connell of Derrynane, pitched upon an oak tree to make his own coffin, and mentioned his purpose to a carpenter.

In the evening, the butler entered after dinner to say that the carpenter wanted to speak with him. 'For what?' asked my uncle. 'To talk about your honor's coffin,' said the carpenter, putting his head inside the door over the butler's shoulder. I wanted to get the fellow out, but my uncle said, 'Oh! let him in by all means.--Well, friend, what do you want to say to me about my coffin?' 'Only, sir, that I'll saw up the oak tree that your honor was speaking of into seven-foot plank.' 'That would be wasteful,' answered my uncle; 'I never was more than six feet and an inch in my vamps, the best day ever I saw.' 'But your honor will stretch after death,' said the carpenter. 'Not eleven inches, I am sure, you blockhead! But I'll stretch, no doubt--perhaps a couple of inches or so.

Well, make my coffin six feet six, and I'll warrant that will give me room enough!'"

"I remember," said O'Connell, "being counsel at a special commission in Kerry against a Mr. S----, and having occasion to press him somewhat hard in my speech, he jumped up in the court, and called me 'a purse-proud blockhead.' I said to him, 'In the first place I have got no purse to be proud of; and, secondly, if I be a blockhead, it is better for you, as I am counsel against you. However, just to save you the trouble of saying so again, I'll administer a slight rebuke'--whereupon I whacked him soundly on the back with the president's cane. Next day he sent me a challenge by William Ponsonby of Crottoe; but very shortly after, he wrote to me to state, that since he had challenged me, he had discovered that my life was inserted in a very valuable lease of his. 'Under these circ.u.mstances,' he continued, 'I cannot afford to shoot you, unless, as a precautionary measure, you first insure your life for my benefit. If you do, then heigh for powder and ball! I'm your man.' Now this seems so ludicrously absurd, that it is almost incredible; yet it is literally true. S---- was a very timid man; yet he fought six duels--in fact, he fought them all out of pure fear."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Judge Robinson was the author of many stupid, slavish, and scurrilous political pamphlets; and, by his demerits, raised to the eminence which he thus disgraced.--_Lord Brougham_.

[2] The name by which Methodists are known in Ireland.