‘With that we went in among them, an’ the Captain sthretched over the watch at the sword’s point to ache of them, beggin’, with a polite bow, to know to which o’ thim it belonged. But little notions, ye may swair, they had ov ownin’ it theirs. Every wan o’ the cowardly rascals swore it did not belong to himsel’!
‘“Oh, I was thinkin’, jintlemen, it was all a bit ov a mistake,” sis the Captain, “so I think you must have it, Channor, for want of a betther owner.” So with that he hands it over to mysel’. It was a fine goold watch, an’ here I have it still.’
Not only was young Mrs. Fitzgerald reconciled to her relations, but an arrangement was made with old Fitzgerald that, on payment of a certain sum of money down, he would give his son a rent charge of £1,000 a year on his estate, and he had a very handsome fortune with his wife besides.
The young couple thereupon went to France, and, having introductions to the best society in Paris, enjoyed themselves immensely. He dressed splendidly, and he astonished the Parisians, who asked each other, ‘Qui est ce seigneur? d’où vient il? Il n’est pas Français,—Quelle magnificence! Quelle politesse! Est-il possible qu’il soit étranger?’ In his hat he wore diamonds, and the same precious stones adorned his buckles and his sword-knot; indeed, all through his life he was fond of such gewgaws, and when his house at Turlough was wrecked by the mob—no one preventing—he estimated his loss in jewellery, &c., at £20,000. They must have been costly, for he enumerates among the stolen collection: ‘A casquet containing a complete set of diamond vest buttons, two large emeralds, a hat-band with five or six rows of Oriental pearls, worth £1,500, a large engraved amethyst, a gold watch and chain studded with diamonds, several other gold watches and seals, a great number of antique and modern rings, gold shoe and knee buckles, silver shaving apparatus, several pairs of silver shoe and knee buckles, with £6,300 worth of other jewels.’
He joined eagerly in the dissipations of the gay French capital, especially in gaming, and the twenty thousand pounds he had with his wife soon came to an end; and among other people to whom he was in debt was the Comte d’Artois, afterwards Charles X., to whom he owed three thousand pounds. One evening afterwards he offered a bet of one thousand pounds on the prince’s hand of cards, which the Comte d’Artois overhearing, he asked Fitzgerald for payment, and, being told that it was not then convenient, the prince took the Irishman by the arm, led him to the top of the stairs, and then, giving him one kick, left him to get downstairs as quickly as he could. This indignity was one which it was very hard on the hot-blooded Irishman to be obliged to endure, for he might not challenge with impunity a prince of the blood, and from the public nature of the insult he naturally lost his place in society. It was certain he must leave France; but before he left he must somehow distinguish himself. And he did it in this wise. The king was hunting at Fontainebleau, and Fitzgerald, regardless of the etiquette which always allowed the foremost place to the king and royal family, took the hunting of the pack upon himself, riding close to the hounds, cheering and encouraging them. But for some time the stag kept well in the open, and gave Fitzgerald no opportunity of showing off his horsemanship, until it suddenly turned off towards the river Seine, on the banks of which a wall had been built. This it leaped, and, to use a hunting phrase, ‘took soil’ in the river. Over streamed the hounds, and over flew Fitzgerald, reckless of a drop of fourteen feet on the other side, going plump into the river. The hunt stopped at that wall, none daring to take it, and watched with amazement Fitzgerald emerge, his feet still in the stirrups, and, swimming the river, climb the opposite bank and ride away.
He went to London, where he was well received in society, notwithstanding that his fame as a duellist was well known, he having fought eleven duels by the time he was twenty-four years of age. Whether it was then that he forced his way into Brookes’ Club I know not, but it is certain that he did, and as I cannot tell the story as well as it is told in that most amusing but anonymously written book, ‘The Clubs of London,’ I extract it.
‘Fitzgerald having once applied to Admiral Keith Stewart to propose him as a candidate for “Brookes’s,” the worthy admiral, well knowing that he must either fight or comply with his request, chose the latter alternative. Accordingly, on the night in which the balloting was to take place (which was only a mere form in this case, for even Keith Stewart himself had resolved to black-ball him), the duellist accompanied the gallant admiral to St. James’s Street, and waited in the room below, whilst the suffrages were taken, in order to know the issue.
‘The ballot was soon over, for without hesitation every member threw in a black ball, and, when the scrutiny took place, the company were not a little amazed to find not even one white one among the number. However, the point of rejection being carried nem. con., the grand affair now was as to which of the members had the hardihood to announce the same to the expectant candidate. No one would undertake the office, for the announcement was sure to produce a challenge, and a duel with Fighting Fitzgerald had in almost every case been fatal to his opponent. The general opinion, however, was that the proposer, Admiral Stewart, should convey the intelligence, and that in as polite terms as possible; but the admiral, who was certainly on all proper occasions a very gallant officer, was not inclined to go on any such embassy.
‘“No, gentlemen,” said he; “I proposed the fellow because I knew you would not admit him; but, by G—d, I have no inclination to risk my life against that of a madman.”
‘“But, admiral,” replied the Duke of Devonshire, “there being no white ball in the box, he must know that you have black-balled him as well as the rest, and he is sure to call you out, at all events.”