Armed with this evidence, I presented myself before the bench of magistrates at the appointed time. The woman had kept faith, and was present, although not called, for the watchers had become a little shaken in their belief; and inquiry having been made, and proving satisfactory, I was at once acquitted. Not so my fellow-prisoner, who, this being his fourth conviction, was sentenced to six months’ hard labour.
[CHAPTER XII.]
Coaches in Ireland fifty years ago—Warm welcome—Still-hunting—Another blank day—Talent and temper—The Avoca coach.
Before the reign of King Bianconi in Ireland, the coaching and all public conveyances were of a most primitive description.[11] I am writing of Ireland fifty years ago, when it was a real pleasure to have intercourse with the peasantry; when every look was a smile; when the hardest raps with a shillelah were accepted as additional tokens of friendship; and if a few heads were broken it was looked upon simply as part of the fun of the fair.
Hospitality is no word for the overflowing welcome which was invariably extended to a stranger, and the sincerity of the men was only equalled by the fascination of the softer sex. The ready repartee, the quick appreciation of wit or satire, were ingredients which gave zest to conversation and piquancy to a society unlike that which may be met with in any other country.
In the same degree, the peasantry, as far as their humble means would permit, were ever ready to display their kindly feeling towards a stranger, no matter of what social grade.
As a soldier in those days I had some disagreeable duties to perform, but these were frequently rendered less painful by the very people against whom these duties were directed. I allude, for example, to “still-hunting.” It was the rule in those days for the gauger, whose duty it was to hunt up all illicit stills in the country, to make a requisition for a party of military, to supervise and surround the suspected spot, prevent the escape of those concerned in the manufacture, and secure, if possible, the worm of the still. The latter part of the triumph was seldom achieved; a small steel worm, which would go into a man’s hat, would take a party of gaugers a long night to hunt for, and often wind up with a blank after all.