“Good luck go with you,” cried Denis. “We will welcome you as an intended Benedict when you come back again. Kathleen’s tender heart will never stand that gay coat and clashing sword. Talk of your laurels, Maurice, and tell her how beautiful she will look with a wreath of orange-blossoms across that fair brow of hers.”
Maurice, a good-natured fellow, took all our jokes in good humour, and, waving his hand as he put spurs to his steed, galloped off; while Denis and I went to amuse ourselves with our fishing-rods, in hopes of obtaining some variety to our usual fare. On our return we found that Maurice had not come back from his wooing. This was considered a good sign, as it was hoped that he was detained at the castle as an accepted suitor. Our own meal was over, and evening was approaching; still Maurice did not appear. My mother and sisters were very positive that he had won the lady. At length, just as it grew dark, his horse’s hoofs were heard clattering up the avenue.
“You must not be disappointed,” said the major, as we were all rushing out to welcome him. “Girls are not always to be won by once asking.”
Maurice threw his rein to Larry, who had taken up his old office of groom, with what we thought a disconsolate air.
“Well, my dear boy, has she accepted you?”
“Yes, I’m sure she has. She could not have said no,” exclaimed my mother, taking him by the hand.
“Faith, then, she has,” cried Maurice, “and I ought to be, and fancy I am, the happiest man under the sun. But I am to quit the army, and turn my sword into a ploughshare, and gather oats instead of laurels; and I am not quite certain how I shall take to that sort of life.”
We all congratulated him on his good fortune, and assured him that he would soon get accustomed to a domestic state of existence.
After this I had very little of his society, as he rode off every morning to Blatherbrook. He used to look bright and happy enough when he came back, and Denis and I agreed that he was by degrees getting accustomed to the thoughts of his expected change of life. This was very good fun for Maurice, but I began to find it rather dull, and even to wish myself afloat again. However, I wanted to wait for the wedding, which, to my great satisfaction, I found was fixed for an early day. I managed to spend the intermediate time much as before,—fishing or sailing and shooting on the Shannon, with Larry as crew and old Mike O’Hagan as pilot, when we explored not only the banks of the beautiful river, but the various lochs which opened out of it. At last the happy day arrived which was to see my brother united to his lady love. The ceremony was to take place at her father’s house, as was the custom of those days among people of rank and fashion. Everything was arranged on a splendid scale. All our neighbours from far and near assembled at Castle Ballinahone, to see the bridal party set off, and to wish us good luck. We had wedding favours down from Dublin, and wedding clothes of resplendent hue, no one just then troubling themselves much as to how they were to be paid for. My sisters were adorned with silks and satins, and looked unusually handsome; but my mother, as became her position, was attired in a costume of silver satin, so that when she put it on the evening before, the light of the lamps made her resemble a moving constellation. My brother, as became his military character, was habited in a scarlet uniform, to which the tailor had added a sufficient amount of gold lace to adorn the coats of half a dozen field-marshals, white satin breeches, silk stockings, and diamond buckles in his shoes, setting him off to great advantage, and we all agreed that a more gallant bridegroom never set forth on a matrimonial expedition. The family coach had been burnished up for the occasion, and was drawn by four of the sleekest steeds in the stable, Larry and the other boys having been employed for many a day previously in currying them down. Dan Bourke was turned into coachman for the occasion, dressed in a magnificent bright blue coat and hat adorned with gold lace. The footboys, Mick Kelly and Tim Daley, were habited in new liveries, of the same colour as Dan’s, and stood behind the coach, in which were ensconced my mother, two sisters, and the happy bridegroom. My uncle, disdaining to enter a coach, led the way on horseback, dressed also in full uniform; and amid the shouts and good wishes of the assembled spectators, the family coach set off, those who had horses or vehicles immediately following at a respectful distance. Denis, my two brothers-in-law, and I had a vehicle to ourselves, which it had not been thought necessary to furbish up. It was an old travelling chaise, which had long rested in an out house, covered with dust and cobwebs, and often the roosting-place of poultry. It was drawn by two sorry hacks, and driven by Phil Kearney, the gamekeeper, for so he was called, though there was but little game on the estate to keep, he being our usual attendant on all sporting expeditions; while Larry, dressed in the attire in which he had appeared at our ball, mounted the rumble with his beloved fiddle, all ready, as he said, for setting the heels of the boys and girls going in the kitchen, while their betters were dancing in the hall. Denis and our two brothers-in-law were habited, as became the attendants of the happy bridegroom, in white cloth coats with blue capes, waistcoats and breeches of blue satin, spangled and laced all over, while their heads were adorned with large paste curls, white as snow, and scented with bergamot. I was more modestly attired in a new naval uniform, carefully made from the pattern of my last old one under my uncle’s inspection. As we wished to reach Blatherbrook Castle before the rest of the party, we took a short cut across the country, so as to get into another high road, which would lead us directly to our destination. Phil lashed on our steeds, when, with a pull and a jerk, our horses, not being accustomed to work together, dashed forward at a rapid pace over the stones, in a way calculated not only to dislocate our limbs, but to shake the vehicle to pieces, but we held on to the sides, trying to keep it together as best we could.
When we settled to take this route, we forgot that there existed a turnpike on the road, an institution to which Irishmen have a decided objection. The old turnpike-keeper, a discharged soldier, who had only lately been sent there, and was thus unacquainted with any of us, cautiously closed the gate, knowing that travellers often forgot to pull up and pay. We, as loyal subjects of His Majesty, were ready to disburse whatever was demanded of us. I accordingly put my hand in my pocket, but not a coin could I find in it, and, knowing that my brothers-in-law were not over-willing to draw their purse-strings if there was any one else ready to do it, I desired Denis to give the gate-keeper the toll.