O'CONNELL AS A SPORTSMAN.

A DAY WITH

THE KERRY BEAGLES.
66
BY SHAMROCK."

THE name of the illustrious gentleman that heads this paper is too well known, both in his public and domestic relations, to require from so poor a scribe as myself any passing eulogy. He has been extolled by his admirers, and condemned by his very few detractors; and so will all great men be in the present and the future, as they have been in the past. O'Connell's name will live in history, and like many another greatsouled being, his memory will yet be revered by those very parties and sects of politicians, with whom narrow prejudices and sectarian differences were, in their relations with him, allowed to warp judgment and discretion.

I am neither competent nor desirous to write an autobiography; my self-imposed task is more congenial to my abilities and inclinations. I purpose merely giving a few notes from memory of O'CONNELL AS A SPORTSMAN. I shall have first to introduce myself, unceremonious as it may appear.

The utmost stretch of memory will not suffice to carry me farther back upon the tortuous and thorny road of life, than to the days when, emerging from "babbling infancy" into pert boyhood, I became the spoiled pet of a sporting uncle, and the terror of the matrons that presided over the kitchen and the fowl-house of his establishment.

If the female portion of the household hated me cordially, and beheld me with a "holy horror," for mischievous onslaughts on the crockery, and successful raids upon the hen-house, the new-laid eggs and newset clutches coming all alike to me, to be relentlessly disposed of (as boys know how) in the intellectual (?) game of "Blind Tom ;" I was, on the other hand, the idol of the stable-men, and the peculiar care of the gamekeeper.

It may, then, be easily understood how my early boyhood was more devoted to mastery of the jockey's art, and the intricacies of stable lore, than to a studious application to the rules of Lindley Murray, or an endeavour to master the difficulties of Johnson's dictionary. The result was, that when full fifteen, the mysteries of trapping vermin, rearing young pheasants, and "bagging" woodcocks "right and left," were far more familiar and easier of accomplishment to me, than was the mastery of the simplest rule in arithmetic.

A horse of any sort, be he gentle or the reverse, I could ride to perfection, whether "kicking him along" at a rasper, or, with "neat handling," showing off his paces to advantage. The horsemanship was perfect, my knowledge in stable lore profound; but, alas! for the "dead languages," and all more useful branches of an ordinary education. Virgil, Horace, Homer, and Lucian, were only bugbears that scared me from recapitulation of their horrors by my young friends, rather than by actual experience of their proverbial toughness to the "great unbreeched."

I hunted my uncle's harriers when I should have been the inmate of a boarding-school; and my precocity was

so notorious, that I was received as a boon-companion by the men, and looked upon as an eligible parti by the ladies, when scarce seventeen.

Although I most certainly would have occupied the junior form in a public school, from the paucity, or rather nullity, of my literary attainments, still, in society was very presentable.

I could scarcely write anything beyond bank orders and invitations, it is true; but then I was tall, a good figure, and good-looking; could talk "soft nothings" to the ladies, and chaff my male companions, too, if necessary; never shirked my claret, was handy with my pistol, sung like a lark, and danced like a cricket; and though last, not least, was heir-apparent to my uncle; and every one knew his rental to be over £5000 a-year. In short, I was a prodigious favourite, and no ball, rout, or sporting reunion for miles round could be found without me. My fame as a sportsman and " gay fellow" reached far and near; and at twenty, I was considered the best " gentleman jock" of the day, and regarded as a reliable authority upon all sporting subjects-scarcely second to "Bell's Life." To this popularity of mine, as much as to Mr. O'Connell's knowledge of and friendship for my uncle, I have the pleasure of having met that great man in his hours of relaxation, when all the trammels of his position as a statesman and advocate were laid aside; and when, without restraint or hindrance, he gave egress to the happy feelings that surcharged his warm soul, and welled up from his generous and expansive breast, diffusing around the circle that enjoyed communion with him, the pleasing influence of his varied gifts.

A party of young Englishmen, the sons and nephews of an old brother-officer and fellow-campaigner of my uncle's, had come to visit us; attracted, as they said, by a desire to make my acquaintance, they being, one and all, ardent sportsmen themselves. After enjoying some hunting and cock shooting, they left us, extracting a promise from me to join them in a fishing tour through Ireland the following spring and summer. The next April found us located at the then great hotel in the lake district of Killarney, where a good dinner, a comfortable bed, and a very fair glass of wine and of the native, were procurable before ever the railway or the now colossal building called the "Lake Hotel" were thought of.

Though April was in her "teens," the days were still cold in our variable climate, and the presence of a cheerful turf-fire that burned in the grate of the public room, where my friends and self were discussing a very fair sample of Chateau Margaux, after having disposed of a homely dinner of broiled salmon and roast mutton, was not by any means a disagreeable adjunct.

The conversation of course turned upon fishing, and we were busily propounding our ideas, and discussing different views of the speakers, when an addition was made to our party by the advent of a stout, hale, plainlooking gentleman, about fifty to all appearance, and two younger ones, his companions. Seeing us, as was evident, one party, the elder of the new comers lifted his travelling-cap, and bowing, as only a well-bred Irishman

can bow, uttered some nicely-chosen expressions that soon put us all at our ease.

We were made aware that our agreeable companion was Daniel O'Connell; for the waiter could not refrain from communicating the intelligence sotto voce, expecting a startling effect upon my English friends, in which he was not disappointed. The sub rosa intelligence disturbed the equanimity of the party at first, which, being observed by "the great man,' " with characteristic amiability so redolent of his nature, he strove, and successfully, to place us at our ease.

We had set him down as a great statesman, who only derived enjoyment from the lofty exercise of his soaring and powerful genius, and who had no sympathies outside his MISSION, much less with anglers. Fancy, then, our surprise and delight, when after having passed some well-expressed criticisms upon the peculiar scenery that characterised his portion of the country, he launched into a pleasing and still didactic description of the trout fishing which the Lakes of Killarney and their tributary streams afforded. And the man to whom I had willingly accorded a proud pre-eminence in professional capacity and statesmanlike skill, astonished me-the great sporting authority of my own little orbit-with the profundity of his knowledge in the most critical and minute intricacies of Walton's "gentle art.”

The beauty, too, of the whole was, that he entered into our sporting enthusiasm with a boyish gusto and freshness that was delightful in one of his age and position.

In reply to one of my young friends who said he had but poor sport upon the Killarney waters, Mr. O'Connell smilingly observed

"To insure success in anything we must take care, my young friend, that we begin right; for without a reliable basis to found our expectations upon, the superstructure —be it ever so attractive-will disappoint our hopes."

"My beginning, sir," responded the youngster, with much naïveté, "commenced by putting my hand in my pocket, an operation, too, that I found your Dublin fishing-tackle outfitters very desirous of having very often repeated before they cry, 'hold, enough!' For I had collected as much tackle as required a separate portmanteau, before my too-kind caterer cried, stop." "Certainly, George," exclaimed one of the party, any half dozen anglers should be gluttons in their ideas of a trout-fisher's paraphernalia, if they could not rig themselves out bravely from your individual stock." "Where's the use of it all," exclaimed the victim deprecatingly, when I can kill no fish?"

The roar of laughter that followed this appeal showed anything but sympathy for poor George, and O'Connell laughed merrily at his ludicrous expression of countenance, which spoke as plainly as words could, "Oh! I have been done, and I know it."

"Well, young gentleman," exclaimed the man of the people, wiping the moisture from his eyes occasioned by the laugh at poor George, "your beginning was wrong, and your failure as a consequence is, I think, a practical proof of the soundness of my axiom: that if the foundation is unstable, all is insecure."

"Well, sir, now that I have been fool enough to do the wrong thing, will you kindly tell me what would have been right, in order that I may be wiser the next time?"

"In the first place, never go to an interested party to seek counsel and advice-and never be persuaded to cumber yourself with more than a few general patterns, until you arrive at your destination, where, for onefourth of the cost of useless though handsome flies, you will obtain from some local fisherman a few that experience have taught him suit the waters he is accustomed to fish in. I have myself fished a good deal; and my experience leads me to conclude that want of observation and too great credulity are the chief stumbling-blocks in the way of the angler's success.

"It will be found that on all waters in Irelandnotwithstanding that an outfitter will fill your book with varied patterns ad infinitum,—there are not more than eight or nine killing flies for white and brown trout; and that the same patterns that suit other streams and rivers, if only judiciously varied to suit the depth and color of the water, will be found as effective in one place as in the other. There are, to be sure, always some one or two favorites that nothing but local knowledge can give you an insight of.

"Perhaps, sir," I ventured to observe, "you would tell me how that pattern is tied in this locality, as it is a favourite fly with my uncle, who is a great sportsman."

"Take a good pinch of fur off a mountain hare's ear, to it put a thirtieth complement of yellow mohair, just sufficient to give the appearance of the cow-dung fly's yellow legs; put horus of mallard's feather, tip with gold tinsel, wing with a feather from a starling's wing; tie upon an F E Limerick hook for our streams, and twice the size for our lakes. Those were the directions given me by a worthy sportsman and esteemed friend of mine, Squire H," said he, naming my uncle. "Thirty years ago," he continued, "he gave me those instructions, and oftentimes since I have found them useful."

"In my childhood, sir, I was taught the same by the gentleman you named, who is my very dear, kind, and good uncle."

"Then," said he, a beaming smile of gratified pleasure illumining his countenance, "I have the pleasure of meeting one casually, who could have few stronger claims upon my attention, than being so near a relative of my esteemed old friend."

Except, sir, what may lie in a very voluminouslooking letter of introduction with which I have been accredited to Daniel O'Connell, Esq., M.P., Derrynane Abbey, and which I proposed having presented but for your absence from home," I remarked.

66

Yes, I regret that I have been absent for a few days; but I hope you have been made comfortable here. Wont you present me to your friends; those two gentlemen are my sons, whom you will find as foud of sport as I see you all here are."

The introductions having been duly made, and fresh horses having been announced to "his honor's" carriage, we parted; but, not until we had, one and all, accepted a most kindly-pressed invitation to Derrynane Abbey, during our sojourn at the Lakes of Killarney, where we were assured of good sport under Mr. O'Connell's guidance, and of some hunting on foot in the mountains with his far-famed "Kerry beagles."

By the time of his departure from the hotel the news had spread that "the Liberator" had come home, and as we accompanied him to the door, it was perceptible that a dense crowd had collected in front of the house. A thrilling cheer greeted his appearance, which compliment he returned by raising his cap in acknowledgment. His absence had been of short duration; but so beloved was he, that his "welcome home" was as enthusiastic and hearty as if he had just landed from a dangerous but prosperous voyage across the raging Atlantic, that surged and roared along the coasts of his native Kerry.

Next forenoon found us approaching Derrynane Abbey, the truly hospitable seat of the great O'Connell, who had condescended from his high estate to entertain and amuse a company of young men little more than lads. This was no trouble to him; he was the gayest amongst us, and well became the post of honor in that household remarkable for its refinement, combined with hospitable and chastened conviviality.

The situation and appearance of this far-famed mansion is too well known, and has been too frequently described to need repetition here: suffice it to say, that without it looked the residence of a gentleman of rank, and its internal arrangements endorsed that appearance to the fullest extent.

The most minute wants, and even individual tastes of his guests, were known as if by intuition, and supplied as if by magic.

The ordering of the household was regular, and, to borrow a favourite phrase of our Saxon neighbours, "Irish" in nothing but its profuse hospitality.

In this delightful place we found ourselves located, with every conveniences of situation and natural attributes, and all necessary sporting appliances for gratifying the ruling passion amongst us disciples of "father Izaak." Here it was that I had the happiness afforded me of making the acquaintance of the purest-hearted man I ever met ;-I allude to the late lamented Captain John O'Connell, of whom I then formed a very exalted opinion, an opinion which was enlarged and strengthened by a subsequent lengthened intimacy of a nature calculated to induce to an insensible display of the amiabilities with which his truly Irish heart ran over. And never was there one richer in every sentiment that could do honor to the man, adorn the gentleman, and exalt the Christian, than was that of my departed friend and former brother-officer-Captain John O'Connell. Peace be unto him! May he enjoy that rest that belongeth not to this world, and which passeth human understanding. For it, his pious life and strict attention to his religious duties eminently fitted him, we should hope.

Notwithstanding that the junior members of the

O'Connell family were all that good dispositions and proper culture could make them, yet there was about their father a something peculiar to himself, that insensibly won the regard of those with whom he was brought into friendly intercourse. He possessed that tact, which is a distinguishing trait in most public men, of finding out the tastes of his companions very quickly. And then, his vast and very varied fund of information, enabled him to be quite at home with his company-no matter how diversified were they as to taste or profession, politicians, historians, poets, painters, sportsmen, or political economists, with many others, were familiar keys to play upon. He knew much, and he talked delightfully upon any subject that engrossed the conversation. And I cannot conclude this notice without attributing his great success in gaining the affections and friendships of those coming into contact with him in his hours of relaxation, as well as at other times, to the fact of his thorough insight into human nature, and his deep knowledge of the mysterious workings of man's heart and mind.

If astonished at the evidences he had given my party and myself of his efficiency as an angler, when conversing upon piscatory matters with us, the evening previous to the day upon which he proposed to show us some hunting with his celebrated pack of beagles, I was equally surprised to find how minutely he understood every phase of "hare hunting," a species of hunting so very generally little known about in its purity, and commonly very ignorantly and erroneously conducted.

"I love hunting the hare," he remarked, "with hounds best fitted for enjoyment of the great chances of good hunting which the peculiar wiles and instincts of the little animal afford. I think it a pity to run her down at a 66 view" with fox bounds, as is now-a-days so common throughout the country. For, in truth, what are now termed "harriers" are three-quarter, or pure-bred fox-hounds. Hounds speedy enough to make poor 'puss" run straight for her life as long as she can go, without affording her the time that the keen-nosed but slower-hunting beagle gives her for exercise of the strategic efforts to baffle pursuit, that nature has endowed her with. Those native-bred beagles of mine, like their remote ancestor the southern hound, sit down to "throw tongue," and tho' slow, are so true and staunch as seldom to let any hare escape them. But then it is fair hunting, and not "bursting" hares at the first "view."

"True, sir!" I ventured to observe; "but the majority of the men now-a-days that keep hunters, go out to ride to hounds, and not to see hounds hunt, of which latter delightful prospect they know nothing, and care less. My uncle, however, just speaks as you do about the beauties and abuses of hare hunting, and I think every true disciple of the sport will coincide in your views."

*

*

Next morning I was brought back to a sense of my sublunary existence from the visionary "dream-land" into which I had wandered:-for the active and neversleeping mind will stray away through its flowery meads and golden valleys, while the frail tenement, in accor

dance with the laws of its perishable nature, seeks that repose necessary to its grosser and frailer character; thence I had been roused by the blast of a huntsman's horn; so loud and prolonged, that, "rock, glen, and cavern paid it back," and the startled goats and wild deer crouched in their lairs upon the rugged sides of the notdistant Mangerton mountain; while cocks, dogs, and hounds joined in a clatter or discord that would certainly be disagreeable in Pandemonium, if there is any regard to concord in sound in that region. The sleeping chasseurs that were to "join the chase at break of day," had soon donned their habiliments, and assembled in the court-yard, where the scene that presented itself was worthy of a Landseer's best professional exertions, and peculiar in those degenerate days: degenerate as shown in the following quotation from a good old English song, "The Squires of Old."

"Our huntsmen lie on beds of down,

To waste the cheerful morn;

While our squires of old would wake the day,
With the sound of the bugle-horn;

And their wives took care

The feast to prepare,

Before they left the plain;

And 'twas merrie in the hall
When the beards wagg'd all,
Shall we ever see its like again?"

It was just daybreak when we met the master of the Kerry beagles, the world-wide celebrated O'Connell, and his pack. The master himself was hearty as usual, as he stood with the light of the lanterns illuminating his jolly countenance, and fitfully lighting up the surrounding scene. He was arrayed in shooting jacket and trousers, a stout staff in his hand, and an officer's field-glass or telescope thrown over his shoulder in its case and slings; a fur cap sat rather jauntily upon his head; some of his most favorite hounds collected round him, rubbing their noses against his hands; while less-privileged members of the pack vented their feelings in prolonged notes of that music so spirit-stirring to a sportsman's heart.

All being found in readiness, the word "forward" was given, and the whole party trudged together for some time, led by the master himself, until arrived at the foot of a mountain, where the huntsman and hounds diverged into an adjacent valley, and O'Connell and the party that accompanied him stoutly breasted the mountain side, never halting, except when some of the plethoric ones cried "bellows to mend." In about half an hour after commencing our ascent, we reached the summit of one of the brows of this mighty mountain, from which we were to witness the hunting of the hounds beneath us. The April sun was just glinting over the tops of a range of mountains on the verge of the horizon, and calling into renewed existence from the torpor of the past night all animate creation; the gay and happy to their fleeting joys-the wretched and unfortunate to the transitory sorrow of their journey through this "vale of tears." And thus it will be, till "Time shall be no longer;" until this beautiful world and its numerous denizens shall crumble like mildew, and wither like a

parched scroll before the out-poured wrath of a long suffering and outraged Creator; upon that awful day-"the beginning of the ending," when the long-permitted stream of Time shall at length have run its course, and be absorbed in the ever-rolling, never-ending sea, of an appalling Eternity. Oh Man! how frail is thy tenure here below, how blind thy insensate folly!

"The cob-webb'd cottage's mouldering wall
Is royalty to thee, is cord and cable;
To man's tend'rest tie on earthly bliss,
It breaks with every breeze!"

No matter how great thy earthly possessions-how exalted thy rank, how lofty thy pretensions-die thou must! Julius Cæsar was a great man, and a mighty conqueror, and his ashes have long ages ago vanished, 'mid the crumbling remnants of mighty Rome; Oliver Cromwell was a great man of his order, and he too had to depart to his last house," and shall have to render his last account! In our own day the DUKE OF WELLINGTON was a GREAT MAN; and now his remains would scarcely fill a snuff-box, but for the embalmer's art. DAN O'CONNELL was a GREAT MAN, and a good man (what none of the rest were); his son John was an honourable and a good man; but now they lie as lowly as any of the "common herd" in the peaceful graveyard of Glas. nevin! Such is life-passing away! Let him who thinks himself a GREAT MAN from any cause either from commanding homage through wealth, hereditary rank, or signal merit-go forth in mountain solitudes, and let him go alone! He must have no second shipwrecked mariner to pull an oar in his own frail bark, or to lend him any effrontery to muffle conscience. If thou art great, wealthy, and inflated with pride-one to whom the cultivated accord supremacy, and the vulgar homage, go alone to some lofty mountain-top, while the world sleeps around you; mark the glorious kaleidoscopic changes that herald the advent of the "King of Day;" observe how awakening nature deports itself. See how the hare with busy foot bestirs her self about the business of the day. Look! how the cock grouse shakes off the sluggard, and "challenges" his brood to their matutinal meal. Behold! the skylark, "ethereal minstrel of the sky," soar aloft on trembling pinions, as if awe-stricken while ascending towards that throne of glory, beneath which he pours forth his rapturous flood of melody-the hymn of Nature—a morning's offering to Nature's God. Go! behold those things! think upon them, and feel how little thou art -how great is thy God!-poor, decaying, paltry worm-passing away! Oh, weak, short-sighted mortal that thou art.

To return to our adventure, from thoughts engendered by the painful memory which drawing the curtain from the past has awakened, and the recollection that of all that sturdily breasted the mountain side that day, the writer alone remains. 'Tis not twenty years ago.

The spot chosen by O'Connell, from which to afford his guests a good prospect of the working of his hounds, was reached with considerable difficulty and fatigue, so