Kilsorrel Castle. An Irish story

Preface

. In this Story, a few characters are drawn, to a certain extent at least, from actual life. The account given of the general Sympathy showm towards the fugitive murderer Lynch will not be considered, I believe, exagge rated by those well acquainted Avith the social state and feelings of the lower classes in many parts of Ireland. KILSOEREL CASTLE. ♦

Chapter I

Situated in the north-west of Ireland, in a mountainous district, stood Kilsorrel Castle, near the small Aillage and post toAvn of Kilsorrel itself. The mansion, though not large, was handsome and commodious ; the grounds immediately around it, forming the park and demesne, were extensive and beautiful, stretching nearly round the town, which likewise belonged to the Barrington family, whose title of Baron Avas taken from it. The Barringtons had been settled here since the time of King James the Second, Avhen these lands were granted to Colonel VOL. I. B Barrington, an English officer of merit and distinction, in Avhose family it ever since continued. The former possessors were Roman Catholics, but also of English ex traction ; the last of them died an exile in France, leaving neither descendant nor near relative.

The old Irish family, who were said by tradition, ngw more ridiculed than obserATed, to have held these lands, Avere named Ryan, and some of their descendants, or Avho Avere supposed and believed them selves descendants, still existed in the mountainous districts round Kilsorrel, whither the majority of the native Irish fled in the troubled times, while the toAvn of Kilsorrel presented the features of a Protestant co lony, chiefly composed of English and Scotch. The late Lord Kilsorrel lived much upon the Continent during his youth, but passed the last years of his life either in Ireland, at his country-seat, or in London. He had married a Miss BristoAve, an Eno-fish lady, Avho died many years before him, leaving no children. For many years after Lord Kilsorrel remained a Avidower but during that time Avas said to have carried on a love intrigue AAith a tenant's daughter, Avhose mother had been once employed about the Castle.

The name of this mother and daughter was Ryan, and said to be direct descendants of the ancient family, Avho had been either dispossessed or bought out of the Kilsorrel estate by the English Catholic famdy before mentioned, Avho were in their turn themselves dispossessed by Colonel Barrington. This mother and daughter Avere of very different characters. The former, Milly Ryan, had married her second cousin, Avho soon after died, leaving this only daughter, Mattie. Mrs. Ryan Avas a person rather above the average of her OAvn class in life ; she had been tolerably educated by the Catholic priest, a worthy and enlightened man, AAdio had himself, in his youth, studied in France, and was in consequence superior in mental attainments to the majority of other priests, Avho never leave their OAvn country.

Yet, Avith these combined advantages of example and education, Milly Ryan was seldom mentioned b except in terms of dislike, if not suspicion. Stern, inflexible, and vindictive, she soon acquired, even among a stubborn and vindictive population, the name of possessing those qualities in an unusual degree. Her appearance Avas remarkably tall and com manding, her expression suspicious and watchful, and feAv saAv her for the first time without having their attention more or less arrested. Some might have been re minded, to a certain extent, of Scott's Meg Merrilies, but would soon have changed their opinion, for, instead of the Avild dignity and touches of noble feeling evinced by the latter, even in physical ex pression, there was in this woman a total want of anything so interesting or so re deeming.

Her extraordinary height and personal strength Avould soon have been discovered as the only real points of resemblance presented to Scott's immortal character. Her features had been, indeed, rather handsome as a girl, but now, though not more than fifty, she looked worn and much older, owing chiefly to the indulgence of naturally strong and violent pas sions. Her only daughter, Mattie, was, in every respect, a contrast to her mother. Weak, silly, and delicate, it Avould have been difficult to see any one more exactly the reverse, both in character and appearance. Shortly after the late lord's return from abroad, a few years after his wife's death, the unhappy intrigue alluded to com menced, some say with the connivance of Milly Ryan herself, and the result was the birth of a son. The event was kept secret, at least to a certain extent, and when pressed by Mattie to name the child, Lord Kilsorrel desired he should be named Alfred Lindsay, after a nephew recently dead, and whom he had at one time intended for his heir.

About two years after the child's birth Lord Kilsorrel again went to England, where, after Aisiting his brother-in-laAv, Mr. Bristowe, he married a Miss Shelburne, Avith whom he went on the Continent, and there resided a full year before returning with his wife and infant son and heir to Kilsorrel Castle. Long before this, intelligence of the baby's birth had reached Ire land, and it affected ,both Milly and Mattie Ryan even more than the marriage, Avhich they had never quite believed till the birth of this child. But the news, as might have been foreseen, operated in en tirely different Avays upon these two Avomen. Mattie gave herself up to despair, kissed and embraced her OAvn child Avith frantic exclamations and tears, declaring she had been positively assured her chfld should suc ceed to the disentailed Kilsorrel property, though of course without the title.

In fact, she had some grounds for this belief. Lord Kilsorrel at one time almost intended it, until his visit to England, when he met with Miss Shelburne. As to Milly Rj^an, not a tear nor a sigh escaped her Avhen the neAvs of the young heir's birth arrived. On the following evening there Avas a general ex pression of rejoicing on the part of the tenantry and inhabitants of Kilsorrel. Bon fires blazed, and the cheering rang through all the village, and was heard for miles round. Most of the people knoAving nothing of Mattie's story, had always naturally con cluded that at his lordship's death they Avould pass at once under the authority of some distant relative they had never seen or known, and great and sincere was the general rejoicing and exultation. On that same evening, poor Mattie, having cried and sobbed herself to sleep, Milly Ryan, taking little Lindsay in her arms, sallied forth to the top of a heathy hill near their house, Avhich commanded an entire view both of the toAvn and estate of Kilsorrel.

She sat down on the heath, and pointing to where the flames of the bonfires rose and the shouts were heard, held him up in her arms, exclaiming, " Look, darlin' ! D'ye see the fire and hear the noise? Mind this another day, will ye now, and never forget it while yer in life." The child turned its large, attentive eyes in the direction indi cated, and, trembling violently, his hot tears rolled doAATi, some over the grandmother's hand. Milly Ryan wiped his eyes carefully, more carefully than fondly, with something almost deferential manifested in her manner even to the child, and again clasping him in her arms, returned home. The evening be came wet and stormy, and the wind howled in gusts round the house ; Milly Ryan, leading the child by the hand, opened the door of a poor small bedroom, and there on a low coarse bed lay Mattie, half asleep, but sobbing convulsively, and Avith frequent gasps for breath.

" There, darlin' child !" said the grandmother, looking doAvn on the child's eyes, that met her sullen frown in their upward gaze. " There, pride of my heart, that ye are ! Mind, this wild, stormy night, the flames of fire, the cheering of the people, and yer mother lying in the grief she is this minute ; mind this day, ye darlin' ye, for as long as yer in life !"

Chapter II

After a few weeks' vain lamentation and fretting, Mattie Ryan became passive and in different to almost everything and every body about her. It was then that her mother insisted, and in the end forced, on a marriage between her and a farmer named Kavanagh. This man had proposed for Mattie before, Avithout encouragement from either her or the mother ; now, however, his repeated offer was accepted, and Avithin a year a fine boy named Jeremiah, but for shortness always called Jarmy, was presented to him ; but poor Mattie survived the birth only a few hours. Kavanagh himself, a poor man, dependent chiefly on his Avife and mother-in-laAv, did not live long after ; within a year, therefore, from the birth of the young heir to Kilsorrel Castle, Milly Ryan found herself living alone Avith her tAvo little grandsons upon her farm of twentyfive acres, and with two of the country-people to help in the house and cultivate the land.

Meanwhile, Lord Kil sorrel had paid a very short visit to his country-seat, Avhen he first returned Avith his Avife and child. Some gossips averred that late at night Milly Ryan had often gone down to the mansion, and had been denied admittance after her first intervieAV. However this may have been, his lordship remained only a few weeks, and never returned Avith his Avife and child. They remained in London three years, when he himself died from a lingering complaint, from which he had long suffered. A feAv months after, Lady Kilsorrel and her son, the young lord, now about four years old, came over to Ire land. On the next evening, while Mrs. BroAvn, the English nurse, was Avalking Avith her young charge in the Kilsorrel demesne, it happened that, passing through a wood near the public road, they Avere met sud denly by Milly Ryan herself, and in no amiable mood.

The fact was, this woman had ahvays felt the strongest personal at tachment toAvards the late lord. She had been the first of her name employed in the castle itself, and the late nobleman had a certain familiar and AAinning manner natural to him, Avhich had especially endeared him to his dependents. Milly Ryan's conviction Avas, that some day he Avould again send for little Alfred, whom he once held in his arms and declared was his own image, and tire of this "new fancy," as she in secret designated Lady Kilsorrel. She had ahvays banished the idea of her own daughter's being; her employer's second AAife. " That," she said to herself, " would not become such a family ; but the child — och, och — where could he see another like it?" Thus she amused her OAvn mind with vain hopes and expectations, reckoning upon them Avith a confidence un like and even inconsistent with her stern, practical character, Avhen the news of her landlord and former master's death came upon her like a blow.

For some days she did not believe it, and though assured over and over again by friends and neighbours, she never fully realised the fact until the arrival of the young lord and his mother at Kilsorrel Castle. Then all doubt was re moved. All was now certainty, and for a Avhole day and night she remained in a kind of stupor. Next day, to droAvn thought, she drank freely, and such not having hitherto been her habit, her feelings and pas sions Avere alike inflamed to an unusual height. It Avas in this temper that, returning homewards along the high road, she observed the nurse, Mrs. Brown, with the young heir walking by her side. Had she been sober, Milly Ryan might never, indeed, have ventured upon what now suggested itself to her excited brain. She caught up a heavy stick, and crossing a small brook that divided the park grounds from the high road, advanced with menacing gestures upon the astonished and terrified nurse and child.

" Turn back, stranger and EnglisliAVoman that ye are," she exclaimed, fiercely ; " turn back and be off to England, or wherever ye come from. What's that child to you or yer blood, that ye should be caring for him ? Away Avith ye, I say, at once." She screamed in rage as she approached closer to the child. The nurse fell on her knees, begging and imploring, Avhilst the child hid itself behind her, but in an instant, with one bloAv of her powerful arm, Milly Ryan struck doAAm poor Mrs. Brown to the ground, and leaping upon the child Avith a cry that resounded for some distance, caught it by the hair, and in an instant might have griped its throat, when rescue appeared in the providential arrival of a caretaker em ployed in wood-cutting near the spot. Hear ing the noise and cries he hastened to the place, and was just in time to literally "stave off" Milly Ryan from apparently throttling her defenceless victim.

The nurse had fallen into a swoon of terror, until the man, who was a cousin of Milly Ryan her self, succeeded in persuading her to leave the spot, which she did at once, stamping and raging, but Avith an indistinct idea she had gone someAvhat too far for her own safety; and so the sequel proved, for no sooner had Nurse Brown recovered from her faint or " spassims," as she called it, than she caught up the terrified but uninjured child in her arms and hurried home as fast as she could, open-mouthed about the ex traordinary occurrence that had befallen. The caretaker, Bernard Keenan, a shrewd fellow, accompanied her, endeavouring to misrepresent the Avhole affair, chiefly because of Milly Ryan's relationship to himself. Nurse BroAvn, grateful to him for having preserved the child, and perhaps herself, from the violence of a furious mad Avoman, as she believed, was confused and confounded at his declaring Milly Ryan had merely Avanted in a rough Avay to play Avith the child.

Both parties went before Lady Kil sorrel, and told that Avorthy and kind hearted lady such strange, contradictory stories, that, after kissing and crying over her rescued little one, she thought she could not do better than refer the Avhole matter to the agent, Mr. Kennedy, a sensible, reso lute man, who Avell knew the parties Avith Avhom he had to deal. He at once perceived the reason of Keenan's version, and after a long talk Avith Nurse Brown, together with the child, avIio, as Avell as it could, confirmed all she said, he at once proposed to Lady Kilsorrel, and obtained her consent, that Milly Ryan should fortlnvith be noticed to quit her present residence, Avhich she held only at Avill. Mr. Kennedy was quite satisfied in his own mind that to bring this Avoman to any sort of trial Avould be no use, as Keenan would have no scruple in per juring himself to exonerate her, which it was in his power to do.

Having made up his mind upon this point, Mr. Kennedy summoned the bailiff, Robert Sullivan, an honest but drunken man, to his presence, and AAithout loss of time gave him all ne cessary directions for carrying the purpose into effect. Unluckily, however, the agent well kneAV that this eviction, though it might frighten and punish Milly Ryan, would not probably have the desirable effect of banishing her from the property, Avhich he earnestly Avished, as did every person of respectability who kneAV her real character. Mr. Kennedy Avas also aAvare of young Lindsay's history, for a certain small annuity Avas paid by him to Milly Ryan regularly for the child's support. He knew that another house and a feAV acres of land on a high situation, about a mile or so from her present abode, Avas in Milly Ryan's free possession, let to some cotters under her, and whom she could at once turn out and occupy herself.

This house and patch of land had long been held in perpetuity, at a nominal rent merely, for generations, and had descended to her in due course. Still he never doubted the advisability of removing her from her present abode, on account of both the loss and disgrace that must attend such an event. For it would at once not only frighten her, but proAre to all the tenants and people around, that a person of her desperate character was no longer the object of undeserved favour, Avhich in the late lord's time had been uni versally said, and with some reason. Ac cordingly, Sullivan, having received his in structions, resolved to execute them, and serve the requisite notice as soon as possible ; but he found an obstacle in Mrs. Sullivan, Avho, alarmed for her husband's safety, and having a dread of Milly Ryan (which feeling was very general among the women of the neighbourhood), did all in her power to induce him to postpone his perilous errand until there was a policeman to " see him safe through it ;" she therefore appealed to Constable Nolan, a shrewd and steady officer of the law, entreating him to accom pany her husband to Mrs. Ryan's house.

Unfortunately, he was not able to do so on the evening she saAv him, and a few hours afterAvards Mr. Sullivan, more than half drunk, as was often the case in the evening, sallied forth at eleven o'clock at night Avith the notice in his pocket, and went first to Keenan's house. Why he did so formed the topic for many a jest and surmise through the neighbourhood for months and vol. i. c even years after the occurrence, for in retired country districts like Kilsorrel such things are long remembered and talked over. Mrs. Sullivan declared with truth that she had put him to bed herself that night, but he had crept out some Avay un known to her while fast asleep. When he arrived at Keenan's house it was some time before he obtained admittance. The latter was a widoAver, living with an only daughter, a mere child, who was terrified at being awoke by a violent knocking at the door, Avhich no sooner had she opened than Sul livan entered, shouting to Keenan with all the power of his lungs : " Come, Keenan, come, I say.

I have her ladyship's and Mr. Kennedy's orders for you to accompany me AAith this notice to Milly Ryan's. D'ye hear me? Are ye ready ?" " For the love of all that's good," replied the other, alarmed, and throwing on his clothes hastily, " what ever d'ye mean, Mr. Sullivan? Sure yer mistaken, for yer not Avhat I call in order itself this minute ; no, yer not, and ye must be wrong, someway, in this business." " I tell ye I have the lady's and Mr. Kennedy's express orders— mind, I say express orders— for you to rise up from yer bed, or from wherever ye may be lyin°-, and to come with me," reiterated Sullivan in a loud voice, stamping his foot, and producing the paper from his pocket. At sight of the printed document poor Keenan's courage and cunning deserted him together; neither he nor his daughter could read, and terrified at the ill will likely to ensue upon compliance, and yet more alarmed by certain vague fears of the laAV in case of obstinacy, the father and daughter remained for some moments staring helplessly at each other.

It was at this crisis that Sullivan, with a majestic flourish, raised high the mysterious notice over his head, and giving the word to march on like a soldier, stag gered pompously out of the house with head and shoulders erect, though on most unsteady legs; Avhile Keenan, completely u throother," as he afterwards declared — c (meaning utterly confounded) — limped slowly after him like a timid dog. Once out upon the lonely road together, with wind and rain beating in their faces, the two stumbled along, slipping into nearly every ditch that was in their way, till at length, panting, wet through, and breathless, they stood before Milly Ryan's house. Then Keenan exclaimed, trembling, and catching the other's sleeve, " Mind ye don't force the door, d'ye hear ; mind, don't force the door, Avhatever ye do."

" Is it the like o' you that's fit to teach me !" replied the other ; " faith, ye may let it alone when it comes to that ;" and he forth with knocked violently, and all the louder, in drunken perverseness, on account of the other's remonstrance, when the barking of two dogs was heard Avith plain distinct ness. " Ach, och ! sure yer that out of order yerself, and in such a way ye don't knoAv what yer about, no ye don't," exclaimed Keenan, desperately, and for the moment losing his habitual caution and assumed respect at least for the other's position ; but Sullivan made no reply, as the door Avas sloAvly opened by a strange, Avild - looking lad of about fourteen, Avho had been sleeping on a bundle of straw in a corner of the kitchen they were entering. Milly Ryan herself was seated beside the dying embers of the fire, for she slept little at any time, and still less since she began to fear the consequences of her late outrageous behaviour.

She raised her head hastily, and started, when Sullivan, striding in, followed by Keenan with falter ing steps and downcast head, sat himself down on a chair before her. He then de manded in loud tones for every one in the house to be forthwith brought before him ; this he said in the tone and manner of a bad actor attempting a solemn and dignified part, throAving back his head, and flourish ing the mysterious paper in the air as if it were a talisman ; and such, indeed, it was almost regarded, as in a few minutes Milly Ryan led forth little Lindsay by one hand, while the lad who had opened the door led Jarmy Kavanagh, and folloAved by two groAvling dogs at his heels. The two chil dren were very unlike the other, though born of the same mother. Jarmy Avas dark complexioned, Avith black hair, high colour, and bright eyes.

In person stout and strongly built, he gave promise of being far above the average in strength and muscular development. Lindsay Avas slightly formed ; his hair auburn brown, that fell in regular curls ; he was naturally pale, though noAv slightly flushed, while his deep blue eyes, fringed with long dark lashes, beamed with an amount of expression and keenness un usual for his age. But the lad, Daniel Lynch by name, was at once the most re markable and the most repulsive looking of the whole party now so strangely brought together. His figure was low, spare, and wiry, indicative of uncommon activity, and of yet more uncommon endurance. His features were wild and irregular to a degree, and his long thin hair drooped over a pair of evil-looking little eyes, from which he continually flung it back in coils, like rats' tails, to which animal the expressions of his face often bore startling resemblance.

At present he depressed his head, and raising his shoulders in a manner usual with him, and shoAving his teeth viciously, glared at the tAvo in-comers with an expression more like the Avild-looking dogs beside him than a human being. This lad Avas, however, a favourite of Milly Ryan's, who, having him quite in her power by knoAvledge of his frequent and undetected thefts, contrived by this means to keep him about young Lindsay as servant to " the young gentle man," as she always called him herself, and wished others to do. Dan had been now some time banished from his father's house, and had lived a gipsy, roving life through Kilsorrel and its vicinity, from the time he was ten years old. No blackguard, no bad character of any description Avas there, but Dan Lynch Avas his companion and ad mirer, almost from infancy, thus going far to verify the Scriptural saying, " Froward from his mother's womb, he went astray and spoke lies."

Such Avere the singular group to Avhom Sullivan addressed himself, though without being understood, till the oppor tune arrival of Constable Nolan, who had hastened to the scene at once, with the brave determination that no injury should befal Avhich he could prevent. He immediately assisted the bailiff to explain the real object of the visit, and advised him to leave the house as soon after as possible. Meantime, Milly Ryan remained seated, silent and motionless in her chair, AAith both children placed beside, or rather behind her, holding each by the hand, and fierce indeed was her glance and gesture of surprise when the notice was first pronounced in the steady, stern voice of the constable, aided, or rather impeded, by the pompous tone of Sullivan in accompaniment. But in a moment she repressed herself completely, and bowing her head to them as the three left the house, leaned back in her seat without a word, clasping Lindsay's hand, while Lynch, opening the door but a hair-breadth at first, gradually Avidened it, watching the retreat ing figures, at Avhom he levelled and pointed a stick like a gun, at all three in succession- Little Jarmy laughed and shouted at this, and, catching up another stick, imitated the other as well as he could, clapping his tiny hands in exultation, whde the dogs barked loudly.

Milly Ryan and Lindsay remained some minutes Avithout moving or saying a Avord. At length she sloAvly rose, and bidding Dan Lynch bring some stones, she placed them where the fire had been burning, and then knelt down, telling the rest to do the same. They all obeyed, Lindsay kneeling on a piece of cloth which his grandmother spread for him, and for him alone. Then raising her clasped hands, she actually uttered the wicked prayer " that until the fire of stones was burnt no stranger might ever prosper in that house, but suffer every misfortune this world could bring."* This strange imprecation she accompanied with violent and desperate language, and, getting more excited, tore her hair and struck her forehead, when Lindsay, bursting into a passion of tears, she rose Avith him at once * Pact. ' in her arms, and put him to bed Avithout another Avord.

"Ach, och!" exclaimed Dan Lynch, Avhen she returned to the fireside, "but it's wonderful to see the spirit wee Jarmy there has by the other." " D'ye think that ?" .she replied. " Faith I do," he returned, with a grin. Milly Ryan made no ansAver, but, hearing Lindsay moving restlessly in his bed, Avalked up to him, and put some paper into his hand. "Ye love me, darlin', do ye not?" she said, her voice lowering, but not softening, as she bent over the bed. "I do, indeed. Oh ! hoAv much, and no one else but you, mother," he replied — for so he always called her. " Give me your hand, and do not go away ; pray, pray do not leave me till I am asleep." " Listen, darlin' child," she replied ; " if ye knew any one that wished to kill me, or ill use me, what would you do now, dear, if ye had them in yer hand this minute, as ye hold that paper?"' In a breath, or even less, if possible, the child's face changed as if another had been dropped in his place ; the mouth foamed, and the features rolled in convulsive twitches; while, tearing the paper into a thousand fragments, he shrieked with such vehemence that both Dan Lynch, and little Jarmy, who was fast asleep, started at the sound.

" There, there, lie quiet, and take yer rest, no one is going to harm me, dear ; so sleep quiet, ay, sleep quiet," she said, laying the child down quite exhausted by the violence of its emotion, gasping faintly for breath, but still with his deep blue eyes fixed upon his grandmother's face. Thus for some minutes he remained, till, at length, wearied and worn out, he closed his eyes by little and little, and gradually sunk into a deep sleep. Then Milly Ryan, returning to her seat before the fire of stones, glanced all round the silent house, Avith Dan Lynch asleep on the straw, and the Avild-looking dogs sleeping beside him on the ground. Again she looked towards the room Avhere the two children lay, listened to the breathing of each, and again turned her full gaze upon the unconscious figure of Lynch.

" Yer a sharp lad," she muttered, her dark, sinister eyes gleaming in the sombre room as they glanced doAvn at him — " yer a sharp lad, Dan Lynch, the most so of any in this country, I do believe, for yer age ; but in what ye said of the two weans yer wrong in yer judgment this night, deep as ye are. Ay, far, far -wrong in yer judgment of them this night. Och, hoch, but ye are I"

Chapter III

A period of about seventeen years elapsed from the date of Milly Ryan's eviction, and found all the group described in the pre ceding chapter living, with the single excep tion of the DoAvager Lady Kilsorrel : Milly Ryan herself, noAv between sixty and seventy, preserved her usual stern, for bidding expression and manner, though in person somewhat bent and shrunken. She still retained an amount of bodily strength and activity surprising for her age, and for which in youth and prime she had been always remarkable. Her grandsons still lived with her in her oaati perpetuity house, to which she had betook herself, as Mr. Kennedy, the agent, had apprehended. Alfred Lindsay greAv up rather handsome, certainly, but -with a gloomy expression of countenance which many thought peevish and disagreeable, and others all the more interesting, according to their different tastes.