Captain Tennyson Edwards subsequently ran away with the kind-hearted Jenny, and in three or four years after, married one of the prettiest of my six sisters. He was one of the drollest fellows in the world on some occasions, and had once nearly ended his days similarly (though more vulgarly) to the traditional catastrophe of the Duke of Clarence in the Tower. He persuaded a very comely dairy-maid, at Old Court, that if she would not abscond with him, he should end his life in despair; and she would, in the eye of Heaven, be guilty of his murder: and to convince her of his fixed determination to commit suicide for love of her, he put his head into a very high churn of butter-milk, which was standing in the dairy—when, the floor being slippery, his feet gave way, and he pounced down, head-foremost and feet upward, clean into the churn; and had not the gardener been at hand on the instant, he would have expired by the most novel mode of extermination on record.
THE LAST OF THE GERALDINES.
Principles of domestic government discussed—How to rule a husband—Elizabeth Fitzgerald, of Moret Castle—Brings her son to see his father hanged by the Cahills—Enjoins him to revenge the outrage—Peculiar methods of impressing the injunction on the boy’s memory—He grows to manhood—Mysterious disappearance of four of the Cahills—Mr. Jemmy Corcoran—Way of identifying a skeleton—Father Doran, and his spiritual theory—Squire Stephen Fitzgerald the son, and Squire Stephen Fitzgerald the grandson, of Elizabeth—Education, marriage, and personal description of the latter—The several members of his family described—Tom, the heir-apparent—A short life and a merry one—Jack, his successor—Moret Castle in its modern state—Miss Dolly Fitzgerald, and her sister Fanny—their respective merits—Matrimonial speculations—Curious family discussion as to the attractions of hung meat, &c.
In the early part of my life, the system of domestic government and family organization was totally different from that at present in vogue. The patriarchal authority was then frequently exercised with a rigour which, in days of degenerate relaxation, has been converted into a fruitful subject for even dramatic ridicule. In Ireland, the “rule of the patriarchs” has become nearly extinguished. New lights have shone upon the rising generation; the “rights of women” have become a statute law of society; and the old, wholesome word obedience (by which all wives and children were formerly influenced) has been reversed, by prefacing it with the monosyllable dis.
“Every body is acquainted,” said an intimate friend of mine to his wife, in my presence, “with the ruinous state of obstinacy and contradiction raging in modern times among the subordinate members of families throughout the United Kingdom; as if the word united were applied to the empire only to satirise the disunited habits, manners, politics, religion, and morality of its population. There are,” continued he, “certain functions that must be exercised every day (two or three times a day if possible) by persons of all descriptions, who do not wish to leave this world within a week at the very latest; but, unless on the absolute necessity of mastication for purposes of self-support, I am not aware of any other subject respecting which unanimity of opinion is even affected among the individuals of any family throughout the country.”
The wife nodded assent, but spake not:—first, because she hated all controversy; and second, because though, on the subject of domestic supremacy, she was always sure of getting the worst of the argument, she contented herself with having, beyond doubt, the best of the practice.[[50]]
[50]. Mrs. Mary Morton, of Ballyroan, a very worthy domestic woman, told me, many years since, that she had but one way of ruling her husband, which, as it is rather a novel way, and may be of some use to my fair readers, I will mention in her own words.
“You know,” said Mrs. Morton, “that Tom is most horribly nice in his eating, and fancies that both abundant and good food is essential to his health. Now, when he has been out of temper with me, he is sure of having a very bad dinner; if he grumbles, I tell him that whenever he puts me into a twitter by his tantrums, I always forget to give the cook proper directions. This is sure,” added she, “of keeping him in good humour for a week at least!”