Passage Illustrated: "I knew he was no gentleman just by the touch of his foot."

I'm sure I never had a more fatiguing march in the whole Peninsula, than that blessed mile and a half; but every misfortune has an end at last, and it was four o'clock, striking by the college clock, as we reached the barracks. After knocking a couple of times, and giving the countersign, the sentry opened the small wicket, and my heart actually leaped with joy that I had done with my friend; so, I just called out the sergeant of the guard, and said, 'will you put that poor fellow on the guard-bed till morning, for I found him on the common, and he could neither find his way home nor tell me where he lived.' 'And where is he?' said the sergeant. 'He's outside the gate there,' said I, 'wet to the skin, and shaking as if he had the ague.' 'And is this him?' said the sergeant as we went outside. 'It is,' said I, 'maybe you know him?' 'Maybe I've a guess,' said he, bursting into a fit of laughing, that I thought he'd choke with. 'Well, sergeant,' said I, 'I always took you for a humane man; but, if that's the way you treat a fellow-creature in distress.' 'A fellow-creature,' said he, laughing louder than before. 'Ay, a fellow-creature,' said I — for the sergeant was an Orangeman — 'and if he differs from you in matters of religion, sure he's your fellow-creature still.' 'Troth, Doctor, I think there's another trifling difference betune us,' said he. 'Damn your politics,' said I; 'never let them interfere with true humanity.' Wasn't I right, Major? 'Take good care of him, and there's a half-a-crown for ye.' So saying these words, I steered along by the barrack wall, and, after a little groping about, got up stairs to my quarters, when, thanks to a naturally good constitution, and regular habits of life, I soon fell fast asleep."

When the Doctor had said thus much, he pushed his chair slightly from the table, and, taking off his wine, looked about him with the composure of a man who has brought his tale to a termination.

"Well, but Doctor," said the Major, "you are surely not done. You have not yet told us who your interesting friend turned out to be."

"That's the very thing, then, I'm not able to do."

"But, of course," said another, "your story does not end there."

"And where the devil would you have it end?" replied he. "Didn't I bring my hero home, and go asleep afterwards myself, and then, with virtue rewarded, how could I finish it better?"

"Oh, of course; but still you have not accounted for a principal character in the narrative," said I.

"Exactly so," said Curzon. "We were all expecting some splendid catastrophe in the morning; that your companion turned out to be the Duke of Leinster, at least — or perhaps a rebel general, with an immense price upon his head."

"Neither the one nor the other," said Fin, drily.

"And do you mean to say there never was any clue to the discovery of him?"

"The entire affair is wrapt in mystery to this hour," said he. "There was a joke about it, to be sure, among the officers; but the North Cork never wanted something to laugh at."

"And what was the joke?" said several voices together.

"Just a complaint from old Mickey Oulahan, the postmaster, to the Colonel, in the morning, that some of the officers took away his blind mare off the common, and that the letters were late in consequence."

"And so, Doctor," called out seven or eight, "your friend turned out to be —"

"Upon my conscience they said so, and that rascal, the serjeant, would take his oath of it; but my own impression I'll never disclose to the hour of my death." [Chapter XV, "Mems. of the North Cork," pp. 120-121]

Commentary: Letting the Cat out of the Bag, or the Horse out of the Field

Phiz's illustration both clarifies the situation, and spoils the surprise dénouement of Dr. Finucane's anecdote about his taciturn companion encountered as he crossed the priest's fields in the rain and darkness. To make sense of the picture, which serves as a kind of headnote vignette to Dr. Finucane's reminiscence, one must pay strict attention to where and when the drunken doctor has met the other walker that night:

"I was always in the habit of taking a short cut on my way home, across the 'gurt na brocha,' the priest's meadows, as they call them, it saved nearly half a mile, although, on the present occasion, it exposed one woefully to the rain, for there was nothing to shelter against the entire way, not even a tree. Well, out I set in a half trot, for I staid so late I was pressed for time; besides, I felt it easier to run than walk; I'm sure I can't tell why; maybe the drop of drink I took got into my head. Well, I was just jogging on across the common; the rain beating hard in my face, and my clothes pasted to me with the wet; notwithstanding, I was singing to myself a verse of an old song, to lighten the road, when I heard suddenly a noise near me, like a man sneezing." [119]

Readers have already seen the illustration in which the drunken doctor is holding the grey mare around the neck as if she were an old friend, so they already know that Finucane's companion on gurt na brocha that night was not a human being, and that the inebriate literally put words in the horse's mouth. The plate, therefore, completely undercuts the text's humorous finalé because it telegraphs the fact that the physician's companion is a horse at the very beginning of the instalment.

Bibliography

Buchanan-Brown, John. Phiz! Illustrator of Dickens' World. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1978.

Lester, Valerie Browne Lester. Phiz! The Man Who Drew Dickens. London: Chatto and Windus, 2004.

Lever, Charles. The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer. Illustrated by Phiz [Hablot Knight Browne]. Dublin: William Curry, Jun. London: W. S. Orr, 1839.

Steig, Michael. Chapter Two: "The Beginnings of 'Phiz': Pickwick, Nickleby, and the Emergence from Caricature." Dickens and Phiz. Bloomington: Indiana U. P., 1978. Pp. 24-85.

Steig, Michael. Chapter Seven: "Phiz the Illustrator: An Overview and a Summing Up." Dickens and Phiz. Bloomington: Indiana U. P., 1978. Pp. 299-316.

Stevenson, Lionel. Chapter V, "Renegade from Physic, 1839-1841." Dr. Quicksilver: The Life of Charles Lever. London: Chapman and Hall, 1939. Pp. 73-93.

_______. "The Domestic Scene." The English Novel: A Panorama. Cambridge, Mass.: Houghton Mifflin and Riverside, 1960.

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Created 13 April 2023