"The heart in ye would be broke at all the claning them leathers
requires." I was also told that after an extra long drive, "ye'd
come home that tired that ye'd be thinking ye were losing your
life, and not knowing if ye had a leg left to ye at all."
I often drove with my mother, and when we had covered more ground
than usual, upon arriving home, I always ran round to the leaders
to inquire anxiously if my friend little Byrne "had a leg left to
him, or if he had lost his life," and was much relieved at finding
him sitting on his horse in perfect health, with his normal
complement of limbs encased in white leathers. I believe that I
expected his legs to drop off on the road from sheer fatigue.
I knew, of course, that the Lord-Lieutenant had to confirm all
death-sentences in Ireland. From much reading of Harrison
Ainsworth, I insisted on calling the documents connected with
this, "death-warrants." I begged and implored my father to let me
see a "death-warrant." He told me that there was nothing to see,
but I went on insisting, until one day he told me that I might see
one of these gruesome documents.
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