The Red-Haired Man's Wife

Front matter

I THE RED-HAIRED MAN'S WIFE. THE RED-HAIRED MAN'S WIFE BY WILLIAM CARLETON, AUTHOR " TRAITS AND STORIES OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY," " WILLY REILLY AND HIS DEAR COLLEEN BAWN," "THE POOR SCHOLAR," "paddy-go-easy," "valentine m'clutuhy," " kody the rover," "the black baronet, "the evil eye," etc, etc. DUBLIN : SEALY, BEYERS & WALKER, 94, 95 & 96 Middle Abbey Stbeet. LONDON: 8IMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO., 4 Stationehs' Hall CouiiT. 1889. Dublin : Sealy, Bryers & Walkek, Printers, middle abbey street. PUBLISHER'S PREEACE. The MSS. of the present work was placed in our hands many years ago, but owing to a serious mishap (which, by the aid of a literary friend we have, fortunately, been able to remedy), its introduction to the public has been delayed. We entertain no doubt, however, that even now this last work of William Carleton will be hailed with welcome.

THE PUBLISHERS CONTENTS. CIIAPTER PAGE I. WINNING THE TOSS 1 II. "ENTER THE hero" - - . - 18 III. THE TWO BROTHERS - - - - 23 rv. "devil-may-care lodge 29 V. WHAT CAME OF THE STROLL - - - 3G VI. SOME ONE INTERFERES 44 VII. WHAT CAME OF THE INTERFERENCE - - 54 VIII. THE SLIP BETWEEN THE CUP AND THE LIP - 60 IS. NUMBER THREE - 64 X. WHAT THE LADIES THOUGHT 70 XI. FATHER MORAN SPINS A YARN - - - 79 XII. SOMETHING ABOUT HUGH O'DONNELL - - 80 XIII. MRS. MAHONY CONSULTS FATHER MORAN, AND THAT GENTLEMAN GIVES HER, AMONGST OTHER THINGS, HIS OPINION OF MR. TIMOTHY FAGIN 99 XIV. THE LEGEND OF THE RED o'DONNELLS, AND A GOOD DEAL ABOUT CATHERINE TYRRELL - 106 XV. LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM - - - - 118 XVI. LEEUM O' CONNOR AND WHAT BEFELL HIM - 126 XVII. LEEUM MAKES A DISCOVERY - - - 138 XVIII. IN WHICH FATHER MORAN SPEAKS ABOUT LAND AND ABOUT LOVE - 148 XIX.

IN WHICH FATHER MORAN FULFILS HIS PROMISE Contents. VIII CHAPTEtt PAGE XX. "THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DOES RUN SMOOTH." TOM O'DONNELL RIDES TOO WELL - 173 XXI. " IT'S AN ILL WIND THAT BLOWS NOBODY ANY GOOD" _.-_.-- 180 XXII. IN WHICH FATHER MORAN VISITS THE RECTORY 192 XXIII. IN WHICH PAT MURPHY DESCRIBES THE TRIUMPH OF LEEUM O'CONNOR - 200 XXIV. IN WHICH HUGH O'DONNELL RECEIVES A WARNING 209 XXV. IN WHICH TIM FAGIN BECOMES A HERO - 219 XXVI. CONTAINING SUNDRY MATTERS - 231 XXVII. IN WHICH MR. TOM O'DONNELL BECOMES THE OWNER OF THE HILL FARM ESTATE - - 239 XXVIII. FATHER MORAN ARRANGES MATTERS - - 247 XXIX. JOY AND SORROW - 255 xxx. love's triumph .__._. 265 CONCLUSION -----

Chapter I. Winning The Toss

IHE character of "Stagan Varagy," or, according to its literal translation into English, the "Market Lounger" or "Stroller," is one which, although very distinct in Ireland about a couple of centuries ago, is now nearly, if not altogether, forgotten. In my own early life, that is during my boyhood, and within the limits of my native parish, I remember some individuals who bore a dim and visionary resemblance to it, as it might have been found at a far pre-existing period of social manners among us. Nobody could dream, unless those who are acquainted with our old Irish songs, of the inestimable value which our History, in detailing the past manners of the Country, has derived, and might still derive from those in teresting old compositions I allude to. The}7 frequently perpetuate the memory of National events, as in the case of " The Coolin" for instance, and others ; and very often describe, by a single epithet, some well-known character peculiar to the Country in times long gone by, when Irish was the language of the people.

I may take " Stagan Varagy," or "The Market Stroller," as another illustration. A " Stagan Varagy" is the name of an old Irish song, the air of which, as well as the song itself, seems balanced between a kind of solemn humor and the deepest pathos. It is a clear case from the song, that the " Lounger," in one sense at least, was a favorite, although, certainly, some of the praise is good-humoredly sarcastic, or at all events equivocal. The first verse in Irish runs thus (I do not spell the Irish gram matically, only as it is pronounced in the North of Ire land):— ' Vee misha'n la guil freeid a wullasha, Ca hay cas orrura agh Sthagan Varagy, Sthagan Varagy, grab, na Colleenee, Horo ! ghud dhee thu slan. The translation is as follows : — " As I was one day going through this town, Who did I meet but Sthagan Varagy ("The Market Lounger") Sthagan Varagy — the beloved of the girls — Horo ! fare you well I" " Horo," was a burthen to songs of sorrow ; but, in this case, it and the " fare you well" come in, as the reader will perceive ere long, with a good deal of sly but affectionate humor.

It would appear that the song breathes an elegiac spirit, and is addressed, in a feeling of melancholy consola tion, to that portion of the fair sex in general who failed in winning the affections of the Market Lounger. The first thing which strikes us in Stagan Varagy, is his Christian name. How he came by it at so remote a period of Irish life, tradition does not say. Of this, however, I can assure my readers, that, within the whole range of my history it is not to be found, at least so far as my memory extends ; neither, I believe, is there a Saint of the name in the whole Calendar. His Christian name, then, was William, or as it was, and is pronounced in Irish, Leeum. The sur name was O'Connor. Before I describe himself, how7ever, I must give a sketch of his father — not pretermitting his mother, whose conduct shaped the strange, but leading principle of her son's life for many years.

The family, as far as their personal history ex tended, were remarkable for one singular point of character — indecision ; which resulted, of course, in a great measure from an indolent antipathy to the habit of thinking, no matter how important the case submitted to their considera tion might have been. In making a bargain, for instance, rather than enter into the merits of the subject, and discuss it pro and con, they would propose, after a short process of higgling, to decide it by chance — a toss up, or drawing of lots — black or white — odd or even — or any of the various ways in which such bargains are by careless people occasionally determined. In fact they became adepts at this — for it seems they were fortunate, or as it is termed lucky, in those matters — a fact which was generally attributed to a very dex terous manipulation, scarcely, in the opinion of some sharp thinkers, consistent with common honesty.

This strange method of transacting business was not at all uncommon in old times. To the present day, in the remote parts of the Country, the form of the thing may be observed among the people while effecting sales or purchases in fairs and markets. In the sale of a horse, for instance, or any other animal, the purchaser asks the price, which is men tioned by the owner ; whereupon the former pulls out a shilling, or a penny, takes the other man's hand, spits on the coin, slaps the hand vehemently, and as the coin descends, offers him a less sum. The other takes up the coin in his turn, spits on it also, slaps the purchaser's hand and offers the animal at a slight reduction. In this manner the affair proceeds until, between spiting and slapping, the bargain is either made, or broken off. My readers, perhaps, will scarcely believe that this is a remnant of the original " toss up," or " heads and tails" of former times, as used in bargain-making.

The}7 have, as already observed, the form of the action still, but the genuine spirit and object of the thing has been long forgotten. Now, Stagan Varagy's father, who in his youth was a wealthy young man, courted the daughter of a person, who was much wealthier still ; but, as matters stood in the country about them, with respect to property at least, there was no young fellow who, in the eye of the girl's father, had such a chance, as young Ferdora O'Connor, for such was his name. At this time, in Ireland, no young woman w7as allowed to hold an opinion of her own upon the subject of a husband. Whatever the choice which her parents made for her might have been, to that choice she was bound to submit ; and so prevalent was the custom, that the young females of the day, with the exception probably of one in a thousand, never dreamt of resisting it.

Many an unhappy life and unhappy family resulted in consequence. The young woman, on whom Ferdora O'Connor had set his eye — not his heart — could never, in what is generally termed the very bloom of her youth, have been pronounced either handsome or otherwise. In that respect she stood in a state of mediocrity. Her father, Terence O'Donovan, was the wealthiest Catholic in the barony, a fact that directed young O'Connor's eye to the large portion which his daughter was to receive at her marriage, rather than to herself. As to the power of feeling love even in its ordinary, much less in its romantic sense, it was a gift which (so far as general opinion went among those who knew the O'Connors best) Heaven had never bestowed upon any one of the family. The name of the lady, whom he had marked out for himself, was Margaret, or Peggy, but, as she was a first-born child, her father had bestowed upon her one of those unintelligible, but pleasing little nicknames, which parents often bestow upon their children, as a mark of affection.

From her childhood it was attached to her, superseding her real name, and actually following her through life. This love nickname was Dotty, and nobody ever mentioned her except as Dotty Donovan. She had another and a younger sister, named Esther, or as she was familiarly called Hetty, who, in contra-distinction to Dotty, had inherited the amiable and affectionate disposition of her mother, now for many years dead. This poor girl was extremely plain, and so far excited a selfish and heartless interest in her sister, who possessing no great share of beauty herself, treated her in such a manner, by directing and browbeating her in the selection of her dress, and various other matters connected with the appearance of her person, in such as that she might, by contrast, set herself off to greater advantage, and make her act as a foil to her in the eyes of the world.

Such, however, is human nature, and such are vanity and selfishness, when they trample upon all the most sacred feelings of domestic life and its purest affections. Notwithstanding the homeliness of Hetty's appearance and the bad taste of her dress, as managed by the tyrannical and viragonous (we here coin a word) spirit of her sister, she was beloved and respected by all who knew her. The domestices matters as occurring in families cannot be concealed, but ooze out and become known to the surrounding neighbours in the neighbourhood for miles. All this policy, however, on the part of Dotty, was unnecessary. Her sweet and amiable sister had at this period of our narrative, a certain stamp visible on her plain but complacent-looking face, which to any close observer, might be attributed to the skeleton hand of him — the great unthinking and unfeeling monarch, whose blow, whether random or premeditated, is always fatal.

Hetty was at this time passing through the valley of the shadow of death, although neither she herself nor any one else was aware of it. In describing Dotty's person I am not called upon to expend much poetry, even if I possessed it. Her countenance was not absolutely disagreeable, unless when she lost her temper; but this loss was a fact of which she became perfectly aware herself, and which, when she grew up, went farther as a moral influence in enabling her to preserve it than all the sermons of her priest, or all the maxims of religion put together. When angry, her brows met each other with a scowl and determination that were as black as a thunder cloud, and her blazing eyes shot forth a fire, which made lightning itself appear as a mere harmless plaything, when compared to it. These precious gifts she inherited from her father, to whom, in this respect, she bore but a faint resem blance.

He was in truth the only being of whom she was afraid, and whose word ever struck terror into her heart. As for her daring to vindicate the liberty of following the impulse of her own inclinations on the subject of love or affection, and especially of matrimony, she would as soon have thought of flying in the air as of attempting it, The consequence was that nothing remained to be settled between Ferdora and her father but the amount of her fortune, for, as to the possibility that she might have entertained a secret passion for another, neither of them ever dreamt of such a contingency, nor would it have given them the slightest anxiety even if she had. Such, however, was the fact. There lived not far from them an interesting, but not a very wealthy family, named O'Donnell, who were highly respected, and known as the "red O'Donnells," in consequence of the color of their hair.

Both males and females were all remarkable for extraordinary personal beauty, and every quality that was calculated to make them beloved and popular. Between Dotty's family and O'Donnell's there had been a bitter feud of long standing, with no prospect of an approach to reconciliation on either side. To one of these handsome young men, named Hugh, from his celebrated historical namesake, did Dotty Donovan become attached ; and as he had never seen her out of temper, but, on the contrary, in her mildest and most winnin g moods, he thought naturally enough that with such a sweet girl for his wife, and a marriage portion utterly beyond his hopes, he ought not to leave anything undone to secure her. He accordingly availed himself of the first opportunity that circumstances presented to disclose and avow his passion ; but our readers may judge of his delight when he found that passion reciprocated, and his hand shaken at parting with such a squeeze, as made his fingers ache sorely, and kept him shaking them in the air for some minutes afterwards.

This reminds us that, in describing Dotty, I omitted to make the reader acquainted with the extraordinary size, and the powerful muscularity of her otherwise wellshaped person. He must, however, take it as fact, for such was her appearance. In this position were the incidents of my narrative, when Ferdora O'Connor got a hint of the intercourse which was occasionally taking place in secret between young Hugh O'Donnell and the majestic Dotty Donovan. The poor young fellow, as we have said, was in love with her fortune, and never for a moment bestowed a thought either upon her bodily strength, or muscularity. He had already proposed for her to her father, as was then the custom, by whom he was accepted, and he now deemed it full time to put his rival, Hugh O'Donnell, altogether out of court by marrying her with as little delay as possible.

He knew there was nothing now to be decided but the amount of her fortune, and, with a view of ascertaining this, he told her father that he would spend an evening with him, in order to come to a close on the subject. This was a great effort on his part, but he was not ignorant that Donovan possessed a heart, which, if common report held true, was anything but liberal in matters of money. The latter had some friends present, for the purpose of watching the proceedings, as well as of witnessing, and confirming, if necessary, the truth and equitable spirit of what might take place between them. After enjoying themselves over some liquor for a couple of hours, Terry Donovan, as he was familiarly called, addressed O'Connor as follows : — " Ferdy, you come here this evening, that we might settle what portion you are to get with my daughter Dotty."

"Where the devil did you get this usquebaugh Terry?" " No matther where I got it Ferdy ; it won't cost you anything. What fortune do you expect with my daughter ?" " Now, Terry, you're beginning about business, and you know I hate that, especially after I have taken a couple of gawleogues. Troth, I was never born for business." " Well, but come, Ferdy, what do you expect ? I'm poor — I'm poor — but it's not so with Dotty ; all the goold in earth and ocean couldn't purchase her, if it went to her value. Troth, it's you that ought to pay me the fortune to get her." " Devil a one of me has my heart in money," replied Ferdora. " What would you be asking for her, Terry ?" he inquired, with apparent indolence. " Why," returned Terry, putting finger and thumb to his chin, and closing one eye with something between a knowing wink and a calculation, as he looked at Peter O'Rorke, who with Dan Corrigan, had been asked, one by each party, to be present at the bargain, "it'll take me a good while to come to that.

Ferdy, are you fond of religion ?" " Well, I think I'm pretty well, I thank you, in that way. Here, Dan Corrigan, hand me the usquebaugh bottle, till I get another glass." "Bekaise, if you are, she's your mark," said Terry. "Listen, she hasn't been once at the Mass Bohog1 for the last three months." "But, Terry," said O'Rorke, who was a friend of Ferdora's, "do you mane that as praising her for her love of religion ?" " Not a doubt of it," replied her father, with equal earnest ness and pride, and he struck the table with vehemence as he spoke. Ferdy looked at him like a man who felt puzzled, if not altogether confounded, and quite abroad at such a paradox. He did not understand it, of course, but he appeared quite satisfied ; and filling for himself another glass, said, in accord ance with the father's object in praising her — " Well, Terry, God enable her to hould to that coorse ! for in troth, the Mass Bohog is very uncomfortable, especially in the winter months, when the weather 's — " "But, Terry," said O'Rorke, " I wish you w-ould explain 1 Literally, a hut of the smallest and poorest description.

About the time laid in this story, the Altar sheds were called Bolwija. Man's Wife. 10 yourself. How can keeping away from her place of worship improve her devotion ? Will you answer me that ? for I think I know you, my man ; and if it's a trick upon poor innocent and unsuspecting Ferdy here, I'll keep my eye on you." " Thank you, Pether," said Ferdy ; " I don't well under stand it, so I leave the whole thing to you ; only manage it for me as well as you can." " Well," proceeded O'Rorke, " she hasn't been at the Mass Bohog you say, for the last three months. We'd thank you to explain that?" "I'll explain it," replied Terry, with a triumphant swagger, and here's the explanation : " Her sister Hetty isn't a strong girl, but then she's piety itself. Indeed, she's half the day on her knees. Her sister Dotty, about three months ago, said to me one evening — the very evening that she was seen walking with that threadbare poor devil, Hugh Roe O'Donnell—" "He's not a threadbare devil," replied O'Rorke, "but as well-dressed, and as handsome, and respectable a young fellow, as you'd get in the Barony."

Terry made a face, and threw out his hand with an expression of hatred and contempt for young O'Donnell, but proceeded — " As I was giving her a bit of my mind on the subject, ' Father,' says she to me, ' I met young O'Donnell one Sunday only, by mere accident; mind that.' 'Well,' says I, 'I'm glad to hear it.' 'And in order to satisfy you,' says she, ' and to keep your mind aisy, I'll never meet him abroad anywhere, no more than I would under the roof of our own house. I'm very sorry for walking a single step with a man that belongs in blood to our public and bitter enemies. However, father dear, if you '11 forgive me my oversight, or rather the accident of walking with him, I'll make a promise to you not to go from under the roof of this house, of a Sunday, for the next three months.' 'What?' says I, 'won't you go hear Mass at the Bohog?' 'No,' she says, ' I will not ; there's poor Hetty, and if ever the prayers of a living creature reach Heaven, hers reach it.

You know that, in consequence of her weakness, for some months past, she hasn't been able to go to Mass, but was obliged to stay at home every Sunday. She says she's a good deal better, and I've got her to promise to go there to pray that my sin for even speaking to any one of the red O'Don nells may be forgiven me. Now, father, can I do more ? I paid Hetty well for praying for my sin in speaking to him. She has kept her word, as you know, for two out of the last three months, and I'll pay the pious creature still for her prayers.'" " How long is this ago ?" asked O'Rorke. " Exactly two months," replied Terry ; " there's the girl that inflicts upon herself the penance of not going to Mass, and pays her sister for taking her place and praying for her. Now, do you understand me, Ferdy ; and you, O'Rorke ; and you too, Dan Corrigan ?"

It was expected that Ferdora would give his opinion upon the piety of the young woman, who was to be his wife, and who declined going to Mass of a Sunday, as an act of penance for having spoken to the man who was son to one of the most implacable enemies of her family. Ferdora, however, only raised his head, which had sunk upon his chest, and having yawned, and opened his eyes very widely, said, " What is it all about ?" "Why," replied O'Rorke, " that there's no stronger proof of religion in a Catholic than not going to Mass." "Upon my soul, then," said Corrigan, "if that's true, I think religion never flourished as it does at present. "Come to the next room," said O'Rorke, addressing Corrigan ; " I want to speak to you." They then apologised to O'Donovan and the lover, and, having reached the next apartment, O'Rorke thus addressed his friend : — ■ " Corrigan, do you understand this ?"

" Faith, scarcely," replied the other ; " upon such an important subject it's the queerest and most extraordinary affair I ever witnessed." " Don't you know," he continued, "enough of the Country and its ways, to understand that staying away from Mass or Church is a very agreeable way for a young woman to receive a visit from her sweetheart, when all the family is out, and she has the house to herself ?" " Begad the scales are off," replied Corrigan, whisking his hands from his eyes ; " sure curse the thing is more common among all Churches." " Do you understand Dotty's devotion now?" " Ay, but does her father understand it ?" "No more than you did awhile ago. If he did, he'd make short work of it, both with Dotty and Red Hugh. Terry is an honest man — although, like Ferdy, he loves money ; and as for Dotty, she may be in love with Red Hugh, and I think that's the best point about her ; but she has too much pride to dream of taking a wrong step, independently of the death blow which she would most certainly receive from her father.

He would kill her, because such a disgrace and such a triumph over him, from an enemy, would put the very devil and the revenge of hell itself into his heart, and she knows that well." " But how do you think it w7ill end ? I don't understand Ferdy." " It's not very easy to understand him. I don't think he understands himself. In the meantime I suspect that, as usual, in the case of all his bargains, it will end in a wager of his proposing ; but as to bestow a thought on it in any other way, unless that he hopes to be lucky enough, by a toss up or an odds, to get the large and even extraordinary fortune she's to have, he's not the man to do it." " At all events let us have nothing to do with it," replied the other. "They're a nice pair — Donovan, one the strongest limb of the devil, and the other a youth that scarcely know7s what he's thinking of.

Let us come in now, and remember we take no part in it one way or the other." " I won't promise that," returned O'Rorke; "because I couldn't see Ferdy taken in." On returning to the other room, they found Terry Donovan sipping his usquebaugh punch, and honest Ferdora fast asleep. With some difficulty they awoke him, when he got to his legs, and took half a dozen strides across the room. " What is this," he asked ; " what is it all about ? " "It's well for you Dotty's not here," said her father ; "but it does not matter : what fortune will you pay me for getting her?" " Don't talk nonsense," replied Ferdora; " let that joke pass : I'm almost tired of the thing — say what you will give ?" They then commenced such a scene of pros and cons on both sides, as could scarcely be witnessed without laughter.

Fer dora pushing, or rather dragging, the other step by step, and by small reluctant degrees, from one petty advance to another, until he had got him up to three hundred pounds as the fortune. He then rose and coolly pulling a copper coin out of his pocket, said, " Come, Terry, I am tired of this higgling ; let us make short work of it — we'll toss up for double or quits ; make it six hundred or nothing." The love of money, though a common, is a strange and indescribable feeling. Here were two men in whom it pre vailed strongly, and here was a proposal which affected them both, but in different degrees. If Terry Donovan won, he got his daughter married to a wealthy, young husband, without being called upon to advance her sixpence in the shape of portion ; and even if he did not win, he was well able, how ever reluctant he might be to abide the penalty of the chance, if it should go against him.

On the other hand, Ferdora, without either thought or reflection, did what many a less successful fool had done before him — calculated upon his habitual luck, without considering that even the best luck is mutable and inconstant. Be this as it may, his usual good fortune did not on this occasion abandon him. He won not only his muscular -wife, but the sum of six hundred pounds along with her. Her father was nettled to the gall, but, like his daughter, he possessed the power of concealing his temper, except upon very rare occasions. He approached Ferdora, and seizing his hand, said, with what was intended to be a complacent smile, but which after all reached no farther than a mortified erin — " Well, Ferdora, you have won her, and I heartily wish you joy of your bargain." Don't let my readers suppose that scenes like this, and bar gains like this, have never occurred in Ireland w7ithin a period much less remote than a century ago.

On more occasions than one have beautiful, and most virtuous, and interesting daughters been gambled away to wealthy profligates, without ever once considering either their hearts or inclinations. We have heard instances of this kind related upon the best authority, w7hich were calculated to make the blood boil in the veins of any individual possessed of the slightest feeling of parental affection. This was certainly a novel description of matchmaking, and yet Ferdora O'Connor was not, in the ordinary sense of the word, a man who could be termed a gambler. There was nothing peculiar in the wedding, which went off apparently altogether to the satisfaction of all parties. Hetty, to be sure, who knew her sister thoroughly, and dreaded her accordingly, remarked that Dotty from time to time turned, when she thought she could do so without observation, such a glance upon the bridegroom as was enough, from its dark -and terrible malignity, to wither him into absolute paralysis.

Ferdora brought his loving wife home that night. The leave-taking was brief and cool. Between the father and eldest daughter, when she had grown up to womanhood, there subsisted a feeling which it would be very difficult to describe. He knew what an incarnate she-demon she was at heart ; and although she concealed the malignity of her temper with the most adroit and plausible hypocrisy, he recognised in her heart and spirit all that was evil in himself — and that was the whole essence of his very being. When she was about to attend her husband to her new home, her father said he wished to have a few words with her before she went. They accordingly retired to another room — the very room in which the toss up took place — and the father thus addressed her — " Dotty." "My name is Margaret, father," she replied quickly, and in a tone of voice that was absolutely stern.