"I suppose," said I, "by your talking of splicing the mainbrace
that you are a sailor."
"I am, your honour, and hail from the Cove of Cork in the kingdom
of Munster."
"I know it well," said I, "it is the best sea-basin in the world.
Well, how came you into these parts?"
"I'll tell your honour; my ship is at Swansea, and having a
relation working at the foundry behind us I came to see him."
"Are you in the royal service?"
"I am not, your honour; I was once in the royal service, but having
a dispute with the boatswain at Spithead, I gave him a wipe, jumped
overboard and swam ashore. After that I sailed for Cuba, got into
the merchants' service there, and made several voyages to the Black
Coast. At present I am in the service of the merchants of Cork."
"I wonder that you are not now in the royal service," said I,
"since you are so fond of fighting. There is hot work going on at
present up the Black Sea, and brave men, especially Irishmen, are
in great request."
"Yes, brave Irishmen are always in great request with England when
she has a battle to fight. At other times they are left to lie in
the mud with the chain round their necks. It has been so ever
since the time of De Courcy, and I suppose always will be so,
unless Irishmen all become of my mind, which is not likely. Were
the Irish all of my mind, the English would find no Irish champion
to fight their battles when the French or the Russians come to
beard them."
"By De Courcy," said I, "you mean the man whom the King of England
confined in the Tower of London after taking from him his barony in
the county of Cork."
"Of course, your honour, and whom he kept in the Tower till the
King of France sent over a champion to insult and beard him, when
the king was glad to take De Courcy out of the dungeon to fight the
French champion, for divil a one of his own English fighting men
dared take the Frenchman in hand."
"A fine fellow that De Courcy," said I.
"Rather too fond of the drop though, like your honour and myself,
for after he had caused the French champion to flee back into
France he lost the greater part of the reward which the King of
England promised him, solely by making too free with the strong
drink. Does your honour remember that part of the story?"
"I think I do," said I, "but I should be very glad to hear you
relate it."
"Then your honour shall. Right glad was the King of England when
the French champion fled back to France, for no sooner did the
dirty spalpeen hear that they were going to bring De Courcy against
him, the fame of whose strength and courage filled the whole world,
than he betook himself back to his own country, and was never heard
of more. Right glad, I say, was the King of England, and gave
leave to De Courcy to return to Ireland. 'And you shall have,'
said he, 'of the barony which I took from you all that you can ride
round on the first day of your return.' So De Courcy betook
himself to Ireland and to his barony, but he was anything but a
lucky man, this De Courcy, for his friends and relations and
tenantry, hearing of his coming, prepared a grand festival for him,
with all kinds of illigant viands and powerful liquors, and when he
arrived there it was waiting for him, and down to it he sat, and
ate, and drank, and for joy of seeing himself once more amongst his
friends and tenantry in the hall of his forefathers, and for love
of the drop, which he always had, he drank of the powerful liquors
more than he ought, and the upshot was that he became drunk, agus
do bhi an duine maith sin misgeadh do ceather o glog; the good
gentleman was drunk till four o'clock, and when he awoke he found
that he had but two hours of day remaining to win back his brave
barony. However, he did not lose heart, but mounted his horse and
set off riding as fast as a man just partly recovered from
intoxication could be expected to do, and he contrived to ride
round four parishes, and only four, and these four parishes were
all that he recovered of his brave barony, and all that he had to
live upon till his dying day, and all that he had to leave to his
descendants, so that De Courcy could scarcely be called a very
lucky man, after all."
Shortly after my friend the sailor had concluded his account of De
Courcy, we arrived in the vicinity of a small town or rather
considerable village. It stood on the right-hand side of the road,
fronting the east, having a high romantic hill behind it on the
sides of which were woods, groves, and pleasant-looking white
houses.
"What place is this?" said I to my companion.
"This is -, your honour; and here, if your honour will accept a
glass of whiskey we will splice the mainbrace together."
"Thank you," said I; "but I am in haste to get to Swansea.
Moreover, if I am over fond of the drop, as you say I am, the
sooner I begin to practise abstinence the better."
"Very true, your honour! Well, at any rate, when your honour gets
to Swansea, you will not be able to say that Pat Flannagan walked
for miles with your honour along the road, without offering your
honour a glass of whiskey."
"Nor shall Pat Flannagan be able to say the same thing of my
honour.
