Transcribed from the 1864 Chapman & Hall “Tales ofAll Countries” edition , email
I shall never forget my firstintroduction to country life in Ireland, my first day’shunting there, or the manner in which I passed the eveningafterwards. Nor shall I ever cease to be grateful for thehospitality which I received from the O’Conors of CastleConor. My acquaintance with the family was first made inthe following manner. But before I begin my story, let meinform my reader that my name is Archibald Green.
I had been for a fortnight in Dublin, and was about to proceedinto county Mayo on business which would occupy me there for someweeks. My head-quarters would, I found, be at the town ofBallyglass; and I soon learned that Ballyglass was not a place inwhich I should find hotel accommodation of a luxurious kind, ormuch congenial society indigenous to the place itself.
“But you are a hunting man, you say,” said old SirP— C—; “and in that case you will soon know TomO’Conor. Tom won’t let you be dull. I’d write you a letter to Tom, only he’ll certainlymake you out without my taking the trouble.”
I did think at the time that the old baronet might havewritten the letter for me, as he had been a friend of myfather’s in former days; but he did not, and I started forBallyglass with no other introduction to any one in the countythan that contained in Sir P—’s promise that I shouldsoon know Mr. Thomas O’Conor.
I had already provided myself with a horse, groom, saddle andbridle, and these I sent down, en avant, that the Ballyglassiansmight know that I was somebody. Perhaps, before I arrivedTom O’Conor might learn that a hunting man was coming intothe neighbourhood, and I might find at the inn a polite noteintimating that a bed was at my service at Castle Conor. Ihad heard so much of the free hospitality of the Irish gentry asto imagine that such a thing might be possible.
But I found nothing of the kind. Hunting gentlemen inthose days were very common in county Mayo, and one horse was nogreat evidence of a man’s standing in the world. Menthere as I learnt afterwards, are sought for themselves quite asmuch as they are elsewhere; and though my groom’s top-bootswere neat, and my horse a very tidy animal, my entry intoBallyglass created no sensation whatever.
In about four days after my arrival, when I was alreadyinfinitely disgusted with the little Pot-house in which I wasforced to stay, and had made up my mind that the people in countyMayo were a churlish set, I sent my horse on to a meet of thefox-hounds, and followed after myself on an open car.
No one but an erratic fox-hunter such as I am,—afox-hunter, I mean, whose lot it has been to wander about fromone pack of hounds to another,—can understand themelancholy feeling which a man has when he first intrudeshimself, unknown by any one, among an entirely new set ofsportsmen. When a stranger falls thus as it were out of themoon into a hunt, it is impossible that men should not stare athim and ask who he is. And it is so disagreeable to bestared at, and to have such questions asked! This feelingdoes not come upon a man in Leicestershire or Gloucestershirewhere the numbers are large, and a stranger or two will always beoverlooked, but in small hunting fields it is so painful that aman has to pluck up much courage before he encounters it.
We met on the morning in question at Bingham’sGrove. There were not above twelve or fifteen men out, allof whom, or nearly all were cousins to each other. Theyseemed to be all Toms, and Pats, and Larrys, and Micks. Iwas done up very knowingly in pink, and thought that I lookedquite the thing, but for two or three hours nobody noticedme.
I had my eyes about me, however