Irish Wit and Humor Part 12

On the occasion referred to, O'Connell, in addressing the people, referred to the appearance of _Sow_-West, whom he humorously quizzed upon the beauty of his appearance.

In reply Mr. West said, "Ah, my friends! it's all very well for Mr.

O'Connell to attack me upon my appearance; but I can tell you, if you saw Mr. O'Connell without his wig, he does not present a face which is much to boast of."

To the surprise of the spectators, no less than of Mr. West himself, O'Connell walked across, pulled off his wig, stood close by West, and cried out--"There, now, which of us is the better-looking--my wig is off."

This sally of practical humor was received with bursts of laughter and cheering. O'Connell looked admirably, exhibiting a skull which, for volume and development, was not to be surpa.s.sed.

ELECTION AND RAILWAY DINNERS.

O'Connell's enormous appet.i.te often excited surprise. He ate a prodigious quant.i.ty, even for a man of such large frame. At one of the Irish elections, he was greatly annoyed at his candidate being unseated for a few months, by the blundering decision of the a.s.sessor. On the day when the election terminated, O'Connell was engaged to dine with a Roman Catholic priest, who piqued himself not a little on the honor of entertaining the Liberator. The company a.s.sembled at the appointed hour, much dispirited at the adverse turn which the election had taken at the last moment. O'Connell himself was particularly angry, and chafed with ill-temper at the blunder of the a.s.sessor, who would not even listen to his arguments.

Dinner came on, and a turkey-pout smoked before the hospitable clergyman. "Mr. O'Connell, what part of the fowl shall I help you to?"

cried the reverend host, with an air of _empress.e.m.e.nt_.

His ears were electrified by O'Connell's rejoinder--"Oh! hang it, cut it through the middle, and give me half the bird!"

For an orator of a style so copious and diffuse, it was singular how admirably laconic he could become when he chose. During dinner, while occupied with the viands, he would express himself with the terseness and condensation of Tacitus.

A railway company once gave a complimentary dinner at Kingstown, and O'Connell, who had supported the Bill in the House of Commons, was invited. The sea breeze on the Kingstown pier sharpened his appet.i.te. He had already partaken heartily of the second course, when one of the directors, seeing O'Connell's plate nearly empty, asked--"Pray, sir, what will you be helped to _next_?"

Hastily glancing at the dishes still untasted, O'Connell, with a full mouth, answered--"Mutton--well done--and much of it."

SCENE AT KILLINEY.

O'Connell was a capital actor, and his dramatic delivery of a common remark was often highly impressive. Many years since, he went down to Kingstown, near Dublin, with a party, to visit a queen's ship-of-war, which was then riding in the bay.

After having seen it, O'Connell proposed a walk to the top of Killiney Hill. Breaking from the rest of his party, he ascended to the highest point of the hill, in company with a young and real Irish patriot, whose character was brimful of national enthusiasm. The day was fine, and the view from the summit of the hill burst gloriously upon the sight. The beautiful bay of Dublin, like a vast sheet of crystal, was at their feet. The old city of Dublin stretched away to the west, and to the north was the old promontory of Howth, jutting forth into the sea. To the south were the Dublin and Wicklow mountains, enclosing the lovely vale of Shanganah, rising picturesquely against the horizon. The scene was beautiful, with all the varieties of sunlight and shadow.

O'Connell enjoyed it with nearly as much rapture as his youthful and ardent companion, who broke forth--"It is all Ireland--oh! how beautiful! Thank G.o.d, we see nothing English here. Everything we see is Irish!"

His rapture was interrupted by O'Connell, gently laying his hand on his shoulder, and pointing to the ship-of-war at anchor, as he exclaimed--"_A speck of the British power_!"

The thought was electric. That speck, significantly pointed out by O'Connell, suggested the whole painful history of his fatherland to the memory of the ardent young Irishman.

AN INSOLENT JUDGE.

The judges themselves often came in for a share of his animadversions, when he deemed their judicial or other conduct deserved public censure; and when he pleaded as an advocate before them, their resentment betrayed itself. Singular to say, his practice was never injuriously affected by his boldness outside. Other men have suffered vitally from the political or personal hostility of judges--Curran was one of them.

But O'Connell beat down the most formidable hatred, and compelled, by the sheer force of legal and intellectual power, the bitterest and most obstinate personal rancor to give way. He compelled pompous, despotic, and hostile judges to yield. He could not be awed. If they were haughty, he was proud. If they were malevolent, he was cuttingly sarcastic.

It happened that he was by at an argument in one of the courts of Dublin, in the course of which a young Kerry attorney was called upon by the opposing counsel, either to admit a statement as evidence, or to hand in some doc.u.ments he could legally detain. O'Connell was not specially engaged. The discussion arose on a new trial motion--the issue to go down to the a.s.sizes. He did not interfere until the demand was made on the attorney, but he then stood up and told him to make no admission.

He was about to resume his seat, when the judge, Baron M'Cleland, said, with a peculiar emphasis, "Mr. O'Connell, have you a _brief_ in this case?"

"No, my lord, I have not; but I _will_ have one, when the case goes down to the a.s.sizes."

"When I," rejoined the judge, throwing himself back with an air of lofty scorn, "was at the bar, it was not _my_ habit to antic.i.p.ate briefs."

"When _you_ were at the bar," retorted O'Connell, "_I_ never chose _you_ for a model; and now that you are on the Bench, I shall not submit to your dictation." Leaving his lordship to digest the retort, he took the attorney by the arm, and walked him out of Court. In this way he dealt with hostile judges.

A WITNESS CAJOLED.

O'Connell knew so intimately the habits and character of the humbler cla.s.s, that he was able, by cajolery or intimidation, to coerce them, when on the table, into truth-telling. He was once examining a witness, whose inebriety, at the time to which the evidence referred, it was essential to his client's case to prove. He quickly discovered the man's character. He was a fellow who may be described as "half foolish with roguery."

"Well, Darby," said the Counsellor, taking him on the cross-examination, "you told the whole truth to that gentleman?" pointing to the counsel who had just examined the witness.

"Yes, your honor, Counsellor O'Connell."

"How, do you know my name?"

"Ah, sure every one knows our own _pathriot_"

"Well, you are a good-humored, honest fellow Now, tell me, Darby, did you take a drop of anything that day?"

"Why, your honor, I took my share of a pint of spirits."

"Your share of it; now by virtue of your oath, was not your share of it _all but the pewter_?"

"Why, then, dear knows, that's true for you, sir."

The Court was convulsed at both question and answer. It soon came out that the man was drunk, and was not, therefore, a competent witness.

Thus O'Connell won the case for his client.

HIS DUEL WITH CAPTAIN D'ESTERRE.

When O'Connell found the Government determined to strain the Convention Act to the utmost, and not permit the existence of any delegated committee for the management of Catholic affairs, he issued circulars to a number of gentlemen to meet him, as individuals, in Capel-street. From that circular arose the Catholic a.s.sociation.

It was at one of the early meetings of this body that he called the munic.i.p.al functionaries of Dublin, "a beggarly Corporation." He had become exceedingly obnoxious to the Orange party. He was an object of intense hatred within the precincts of the Castle. To get rid of such a man would be an invaluable service. The _insult_ he had put on the _immaculate_ and _wealthy_ Corporation, offered too inviting an opportunity to be pa.s.sed over. A champion of Ascendancy appeared in the person of Captain D'Esterre.

On the 1st of February, 1815, nearly eleven days after the insult was received, and eight days after explanation was demanded and refused, this misled gentleman was advised to send a message. He addressed a letter in the following words:--

"Sir--_Carrick's Paper_, of the 23rd instant, in its Report of the Debates of a Meeting of the Catholic Gentlemen, on the subject of a Pet.i.tion, states that you applied the appellation of _Beggarly_, to the Corporation of this City, _calling it a beggarly Corporation_; and, therefore, as a member of that body, and feeling how painful such is, I beg leave to inquire whether you really used or expressed yourself in such language.

"I feel the more justified in calling on you on this occasion, as such language was not warranted or provoked by any thing on the part of the Corporation; neither was it consistent with the subject of your Debate, or the deportment of the other Catholic gentlemen, who were present; and, though I view it so inconsistent in every respect, I am in hopes the Editor is under error, not you.

"I have further to request your reply in the course of the evening--and remain, Sir, your obedient servant,

"J. N. D'ESTERRE, "11 Bachelor's-walk, 26th Jan. 1815.

"To Counsellor O'Connell, Merrion-square."

"Sir--In reply to your letter of yesterday, and without either admitting or disclaiming the expression respecting the Corporation of Dublin, in the print to which you allude, I deem it right to inform you, that, from the calumnious manner in which the religion and character of the Catholics of Ireland are treated in that body, no terms attributed to me, however reproachful, can exceed the contemptuous feelings I entertain for that body in its corporate capacity--although, doubtless, it contains many valuable persons, whose conduct, as individuals (I lament), must necessarily be confounded in the acts of the general body.