The Brides of Ardmore. A story of Irish life

Front matter

THE BBIDES OF ARDMORE. ROUND TO WEB AND RUINS AT ARDAIORE, COUNTY WATERTORD, WITH DECLAN'S ORATORY, THE BEIDES OF ABDMOKE. A STORY OF IRISH LIFE. BY AGNES SMITH, Author of tl Effie Maxwell;1 " Glenmavis," etc. cf oiibon : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTEK EOW. 1880. [All rights reserved.) PKEFACE. The notes which form the basis of this story were found amongst the records of the nunnery at Kilcheechan, on the banks of the Suir, opposite the city of Waterford. They are in the handwriting of Grainne Ni-Carthy; only a few additions being from the pen of another. Considering the opportunities enjoyed by that fair matron for studying the characters and motives of her young companions, as well as indirectly through them, of their husbands, the Editress thinks herself fortunate in having become possessed of the record of a state of things now so completely passed away.

She trusts that it will not be less welcome to the reader because of the historical and local descriptions with which she has sought to illustrate its meaning. It may be as well to say, however, that by the word "bishop" is here meant, not the magnificent dignitary who now bears that title, but a member of the class to which it was applied by the Irish of the first eleven centuries. St. Patrick is stated to have ordained seven hunch-ed of them. (See Appendix p. 379.) CHAPTEE I. It was summer-time at Ardmore. The sunbeams rested lovingly on the wide tract of woods surrounding the promon tory, and on the still wider expanse of ocean which lay sleep ing at its base. They had woven a tissue of rich colours about the picturesque dwellings which nestled close to the church and lofty Eound Tower, and lent their deepest tints to the clustering foliage which blended these somewhat incongruous buildings into one harmonious whole.

The pine woods had been cleared away from Ardmore Hill. On its northern slope rose that slender, massive, solitary beacon, which has withstood the storms of centuries, and still hides in the silent circle of its bosom the mystery of its origin. Some twenty-five yards distant from it stood the double church, whose massive walls yet testify to the strength of early Irish piety. Against its southern side rested some solid wooden buildings, whilst others of similar construction were grouped around the little stone cell of Declan, to the south east of the church, and likewise against the inner side of the broad, grassy rampart which enclosed, at some distance, church, cell, tower, and plateola, or park. These dwellings were, as we have said, of wood. They were weU fitted and finished, most of them having double walls ; whilst over their thatched roofs a variety of creeping plants had been trained.

Chapter II

Ireland had, from the earliest times, been cursed with a superfluity of princes. Each of her five kingdoms contained a couple of ruling clans, whose members claimed a right of supplying the throne in alternation. Those who were out of office spent their time in concocting the most dangerous plots. Nor was the ambition of an Irish king limited to the regions of his own inheritance. The choice of his four peers might make him Ard-righ, or sovereign of the whole island. But in that case he would have to compel obedience by his own good sword. Only when the strongest sat on the throne could Erin hope to enjoy peace. Nor could any worse plan of succession have well been devised than the law of tanistry. No office or property was strictly hereditary ; it fell, on the death of the occupier, to the oldest and strongest male relative ; to the one, in short, who was considered most capable of using it.

And as no personal defect could be tolerated in a ruler, great chieftains sought to evade the decrees of the Senehus Mor by blinding their rebellious kinsmen. Thus was the whole country torn by contending factions. Minister had, since the reign of Brian Borumha, enjoyed comparative prosperity. But it was, in a.d. 1151, over whelmed by one of those catastrophes from which nations are slow to recover. For nine years its throne had been occupied by the restless Turlough O'Brien, a monarch who possessed all the ambition without the genius or the patriotism of his great ancestor. He was much given to the royal sport of cattle lifting, a pastime not unknown to the contemporaries of Achilles, and which was at least as good as that of trying to move his neighbour's landmarks indulged in by a Duke of Aquitaine or of Austria.

Turlough had made raids into Leinster, with very varying success. Emboldened at length by a victory, he led a band of marauders into Connaught, and knocked down the fort of Galway. Turlough O'Connor, the monarch of that district, was king of all Ireland, with opposition. He was " a flood of glory and splendour, the Augustus of the West of Europe ; " but yet, though "full of charity and mercy, hospitahty and chivalry," he was by no means the man to leave an insult unavenged Joining with the notorious Leinster king, Dermod Mac Murrough, he invaded Munster, plundering right and left, till he reached the field of Moin Mor, near Cork. Then ensued a slaughter which can only be compared to that of Flodden. Turlough O'Brien was vanquished, and seven thousand of his men, the flower of Dalecassian valour, lay dead upon the field.* Amongst them was the tanist, or royal heir of Munster (a nephew of Turlough), with many of the Roydama, or king-material, and the chieftains of almost every clan.

But on few did the blow fall more heavily than on the O'Aherns. The Flath, to whom Rossa owned allegiance, was amongst the slain. Amada's peaceful home was soon engulfed beneath the waves of lawlessness and rapine which broke over the land. Its walls were not actually pulled down, but the fields which Rossa had cultivated were given to another; and the cattle, his only riches, were swept away to swell the enormous spoil with which the two kings returned to their own provinces. * Appendix. Amada had, with her daughters, sought refuge in the religious house connected with her husband's clan. But its precincts soon became too strait for the crowds who flocked thither ; and though its actual sanctuary remained inviolate, all its outlying property was engulfed in the general ruin. When the danger had passed, therefore, the three women were glad to leave it for the shelter of their dismantled home.

They found themselves face to face with poverty. Rossa was, however, of a sanguine temperament. He had an unfailing trust in Providence. Had he not been a faithful steward whilst his riches lasted? and though he could no longer give the prophets food and clothing, would they not now remember the unnumbered kindnesses he had shown them ? He had made to himself friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, and had secured protectors for his children in the event of further misfortune befalling them. At the worst, they might end their days in one of those women's monasteries now become so common throughout Ireland. Some of his former guests would surely have influence sufficient to procure for Moriath and Grainne a favourable recep tion at Cluain-Credhail, or at Killcbree. Rossa found, however, that he had reckoned too rashly.

His clerical friends, who had professed such a warm attach ment to him, who had flattered him for virtues he was hardly conscious of possessing, seemed now to have a strange dis like to visiting him without express invitation. And Amada's pride would have been keenly wounded had she been obliged to receive any one without placing suitable cheer before them. The few whose friendship was as effusive as of yore were all of the poorer sort — men without influence, bishops certainly, but unconnected with any of those families whose members alone were supposed eligible for the office of presbyter-abbot. Amongst those few was a bishop named Maidoc O'Bric. Maidoc was a middle-aged man, who had long enjoyed the pastoral care of a neighbouring village. Its people were devotedly attached to him, yet neither his name nor his voice were ever heard more than a few miles beyond it.

The poor became accustomed to him as they did to any common gift of Providence. Yet he had acquired a degree of learning which might have made him a conspicuous figure in any of the great centres of intelligence. His sermons were ex tremely impressive. He possessed a ripeness of thought which melted into mild words, and made hearers hang on his lips with the confidence of those who need fear no disappointment. There was something sterling about Maidoc. You could see that at a glance, although you might never have listened to the equable flow of his eloquence in the pulpit. He was stout, with a massive figure. His dark eyes were small and unimpressive, and he was of so taciturn a disposition that you might possibly have passed him over as a man of only ordinary ability. But a careful scrutiny would have dis pelled the illusion.

The small eyes were intensely observant ; the full lips were quivering with expression, as if responsive to every movement of their ow-ner's soul. Would that he had possessed more energy ! So thought Amada when, in the day of her prosperity, she indulged in a secret laugh at him. " There is no one I like better to hear in the pulpit," she would say. " Yet his wife and he seem as if they shared a single voice between them. He uses it in public, she in private, and certainly with discretion." "Yes," Grainne would answer; "it is provoking to see him listen so often to disputations which he coidd settle with a single word." " Maidoc is not in his right place," her mother would respond ; "preaching to poor people, when he might be in a lector's chair. He will have to wait all his life if he expects others to speak for him.

He has been kept in the background only because the great men kuow him not. I tried to make him talk when some of them were here. He will never have such an opportunity again. But it was of no use. The man sat and listened as if he had been one of t£e stone heads on King Cormac's new church at Caisel." But Amada's wit spared Maidoc in the time of her adversity. Then he came, noiseless as the fall of a dew-drop, but with a movement of lip and hand that spoke more eloquently than words could have done. Roused from the habitual torpor which only seemed to master him when he was in society, he was all eagerness, all attention, and sat imbibing the story of the family's hardships as if it were an aliment necessary to the growth of a stronger affection for them. "I cannot pretend to sit at your board," he said, " any more than I can ask you to do so at mine.

I am poor as you are. If I can make you any return for the great kindness you have showu me, let it be in the way of instruction. Your daughters may come and read with me on any evening they like to fix." From that moment Bishop Maidoc held the most honoured place in Rossa's household. It was felt that he had redeemed the character of his brethren. But for him Amada's faith would have been sorely shaken in the excellence of a divinely ordained institution. Her late experiences had not, however, altogether opened her eyes to the earthy nature of the vessels in which worldblessing treasures were deposited. She had an ardent Celtic temperament, much given to hero-worship. Her hero was Blathmac O'Flannahan, and though now little gratified by sight of him, it was wonderful how ingenious she was in excuses for his lack of friendliness.

" He has the care of all the churches on his shoulders," she said. " I must say I wonder at the O'Mullaneys and others. But Blathmac ! The very touch of his garment is an honour, without his giving up his time to us. He belongs to the Church ; not to one nor to another." Grainne could not help thinking that Blathmac had once looked as if he belonged to them, and had time enough to spare when there were mead and milk flowing. She was wise enough, however, not to contradict her mother. Maidoc was not quite justified in calling himself poor. If a man's wealth were to be measured by his chains of the metal rings which represented the currency of that day, the good bishop assuredly could lay no claim to any amount of it. But he was rich in what money seldom gives. His wants never exceeded what could be furnished by his modest pit tance.

The only luxury he indulged in was books, and, as he had free access to the library at Lismore, there was little necessity for his turning spendthrift to gratify his tastes. The confraternity of Ardmore, to which he was attached, would see justice done to him in the matter of a retreat for his old age, whilst both his office and character ensured him a full meed of respect and honour. He had, moreover, made the best of all acquisitions in a helpmeet who was more than the exact complement of himself. She was one of those women whom to look at is to love. Her features were not strictly faultless, but they were the translucent covering of a soul whose brightness seemed to glorify their every outline. r-he was devotedly attached to her husband, and all the more so that Providence had not blessed thenunion with children.

Her wifely and maternal instincts were alike gratified by her incessant care for his welfare ; and whilst he leant on her in all practical matters, she reverenced him for the learning which she was sufficiently well instructed to appreciate. Their soids had become so much blended into one that it was difficult to imagine how they had ever lived apart. Yet another bishop remained true to Rossa. He was, bow ever, cast in a very different mould. The first look of him would have repelled you. His harsh features, dark complexion, and stern, brown eye told of a spirit as unbending as it was rigidly virtuous. Yet he knew how to make himself agreeable. You would feel flattered, my fair reader, were the fierce lion of the desert to crouch submissive at your feet ; so you need not wonder that Amada and her daughters were gratified to see the harshest critic of their acquaintance unbending grimly to the enjoyment of jokes at their table.

Olrud MacCarthy's motives for coming there were twofold. His movements were, I grieve to state, governed in the first place by self-interest. He was connected with the religious foundation of Inisfallen, and at Rossa's house some of the more distinguished members of that confraternity were to be found ; not engaged in the fulfilment of duty, but in that state of leisurely enjoyment so favourable to the growth of mutual goodwill. It was possible that some of those whose voices were all-powerful in council, might get a better insight into Olrud's worth and capabilities than they were likely to do in the wilds of Kerry. Of the worth there could be no question, and as for the capabilities, they were, in their owner's opinion, of no common order. He belonged to an obscure family. It was not without a hard struggle that he had obtained entrance into the clerical profession.

His father had been Erenach, or hereditary bailiff, over the termon-lands of Inisfallen, and it was therefore considered that the son had stepped out of his sphere by becoming a student of theology. He was also, on his mother's side, descended from a so-called water-hound, or Dane who had acquired the rights of an Irishman by marriage. Olrud felt himself looked upon as an outsider by men of less ability who could count their ministerial ancestors. He had a notion that he might possibly triumph over these disadvantages by attracting some great man's notice. Nor did any constitutional timidity stand in the way of his doing this. No matter who might be present, Olrud's voice was always the first in prayer or exhortation. To have a sense of one's own superiority is a great step towards impressing it on others, and one result of Olrud's efforts was that a vivid conception formed itself in his mind of the intensity of admiration with which every one regarded him.

Another was that, whilst some looked up to his stalwart figure with venerating awe, many of his brethren entertained towards him a dislike which they would have found it difficult to account for. Other motives soon allied themselves to this one in prompt ing Olrud's visits. He derived real enjoyment from the society he met with, and felt a lively sense of gratitude for opportunities already vouchsafed to him. For Olrud was much given to self-examination, being one of those regular, well-conducted men who must shape their thoughts into definite words before putting them into action. He could no more act from impulse than he could be guilty of calling himself a fool. He had a high standard of rectitude, and was unmeasured in his condemnation of those who failed to con form to it in any one particular.

Conscious of no frailty himself, he could make little allowance for it in others. His second motive took root and developed itself at a much later period. A superficial observer would have found it no easy task to discover whether or not Olrud possessed a heart ; yet a closer examination might have convinced him that such an organ actually existed. It was not capable of great ex pansion, but there it was, making up for what it lacked in the way of bulk by exceeding tenacity of fibre. And it was altogether an ill-used member. It was not allowed to utter a word until its intellectual colleague had decided on several interesting points, viz., that matrimony was an honourable estate; that it was distinctly enjoined on bishops in the Epistle to Timothy ; that thirty-seven was an age when a man ought to be competent to make a wise selection ; that a Christian young woman would be a help rather than a hind rance to the growth of spiritual life ; and that he, Olrud, would be neglecting his plain duty were he not to admit such an one to the valuable example and instruction to be derived from his society.

Another set of points required more anxious deliberation ; but after a careful scrutiny they were at length determined, and it was resolved by all his faculties in solemn council, that Grainne Ni-Aliern was likely to fulfil all the requisite conditions. Any want of gravity on her part would doubt less disappear when she had become sufficiently impressed with his solemn teachings ; and though there was an element of livehness about her and her mother, which was perhaps of less consequence in a layman's family, he had never noticed in either of them the least approach to a love of slander. As for sobriety, faithfulness, and ability to rule over her depen dents, no one could look Grainne fairly in the face and harbour a suspicion that she woidd be found wanting in them. She was comely too, she had a goodly presence, and was indeed of an appearance which must command attention.

She had been well brought up, and had doubtless inherited from her parents that esteem for good men which is a great help towards being good ourselves. It would be doing Olrud more than justice to say that he did not count on Grainne's portion. But before we can determine whether he was really in love with her, we must reflect that there were few others who would have suited him. The daughters of his brethren were not without proper ambition, and he had too great a horror of being refused on account of his want of birth to apply where he had no sure hope of success. Amongst the lay families he knew there were none so well educated or so worthy of being raised to the clerical caste as tbe children of his friend Rossa. Olrud was unfeignedly thankful that it had pleased Providence to bestow on the object of his choice the worthless gift of personal comeliness.

He was keenly disappointed when Rossa's circumstances changed. But it did not turn him from his purpose. His resolutions, once formed, were like well-feathered arrows that must fly straight at the mark to which they are pointed ; whether that mark be the quivering side of a victim, or the misleading glimmer of a rock amongst the copsewood. So in the day of Rossa's deepest distress he came forward with his proposal. Amada did not receive it favourably. Olrud had never been a favourite of hers. She had more than once been pro voked by his forwardness in the way of taking up the word when cleverer men were present. She had often resented his dictatorial manners and unreasoning condemnation of others. She would have said " no," with poverty staring her daughter in the face. Rossa, however, insisted that Grainne should have the opportunity of deciding for herself.

To the surprise of her parents, Grainne hesitated. She claimed a night to think over it, and in the morning re quested them to accept for her the offered position. "I know that he is peculiar," she said. "He likes his own way, and is much too severe in his judgments. But recollect that he has had no female companions. His mother died when he was a baby. It says a great deal for him that he asks for me now. He is a man of thorough integrity, and will perhaps bear to be told that he sometimes encroaches on other people's right to converse. I have no wish to have my own way. In fact, I should rather like to be ruled. It would be a variety," she continued, with an affectionate glance at her mother. " Thou knowest not of what thou speakest," exclaimed Amada. " I do, mother," replied the self-willed girl.

" I have thought well over it. I should like a firm hand over me." Rossa shrugged his shoulders. He glanced meaningly at his wife. It probably occurred to both that Grainne was not so far wrong in preferring wedded life, of whatever sort, to the monotony of the cloister which threatened soon to be their only refuge. Rossa had been obliged to form a definite plan. There were two ways open before him. He might rent other land, and stock it ; but he would have to do so on borrowed money, aDd the only dealer in that commodity he could think of was an Israelite in Waterford, upon whose greed there existed no check except an outbreak of anger on the part of the popu lace which could only be counted on once in ten years, and was even then likely to be vicariously applied. It seemed far better that he should give up farming, and seek a post in the permanent military retinue of King Tadg O'Brien, brother of the vanquished Turlough.

No other career was open to a gentle man who had lost his connection with the soil. And loyal soldiers could always look forward to a share in the fruits of pillage. For the sovereign of Ireland maintained his authority only by a ceaseless struggle with hydra-headed rebellion, strengthening himself not a little by fomenting feuds be tween the more powerful clans who were nominally subject to him. Turlough O'Connor had divided Munster betwixt Tadg O'Brien and Cormac MacCarthy, after banishing his own formidable namesake. Those who were in the service of either chieftain need never suffer from lack of victual. Rossa had no alternative. He shrank from the idea of dragging his family down to the condition of Bothachs, and allowing the culture they had so laboriously acquired to disappear in the next generation.

The money he would get by selling his house would be sufficient to procure admission for Amada and Moriath to Killchree, and if fortune so far favoured him as to place distinction or affluence within his reach, there would be no difficulty about their rejoining him — the Celtic Church not having yet discovered that vows of perpetual celibacy were pleasing to the Creator.* For was not the royal heir of Ireland, Roderick O'Connor, himself, descended from a twice-wedded Cailleach De, or nun of Glendalough ? It was long before Rossa's resolution took definite shape. Nothing but the actual pinch of want could have ripened it for the house which he proposed selling had belonged to his * Appendix. family for a period beyond the memory of any one living. Yet he bore it with more resignation than did Amada.

She did not share his buoyant hopes as to the future. " They would have been natural enough in a young man," she said, " but in him they were simply preposterous. Neither King Tadg nor King Cormac would be on the throne an hour after Turlough came back from Tyrone. It would be safer to wait and see who ivas their sovereign. And the world was much rougher than Rossa expected. She would not murmur at her own lot, as far as creature comforts were concerned ; but the constant anxiety she would feel about him would be sure to shorten her days." There were yet other hearts who sympathised with the family's distress. The poor faithful servants whom Amada had instructed ; the labourers who had ploughed their lands ; the peasant families who had looked on Rossa as both kins man and master, showed a depth of feeling which could hardly have been expected from such half-tutored men and women.

But their own households had lately been invaded by famine and by epidemic disease, and many of them had emigrated to Leinster ; and thus a wail for their own sor rows mingled with the groans of those who wept over the threatened departure of their kind benefactors.

Chapter III

Rossa was not, however, permitted to carry out his plans. Ere the preparations for Gramne's marriage were completed, he fell a victim to the prevailing pestilence. This event threw his family into a double dilemma. It at once deprived them of their best earthly stay, and the means for procuring an asylum for themselves. The house could not now be sold. By the Brehon law it passed to the next of kin, females being excluded from the succession. The sons of Rossa's only cousin were not slow in putting in their claim. Amada was at first too much stunned for action. But Moriath showed the spirit of a heroine. She told her sister's bridegroom that he was at liberty to withdraw his offer if he felt so inclined. This Olrud had no thought of doing. But he certainly looked black enough at the possibility of having two additional females on his hands.

"Give thyself no concern," said Moriath ; "I will take service in some noble house, and I will work until I can repay thee what thou expendest on my mother." " Where wilt thou gain admittance ? " asked Olrud. " I shall go to each one who has eaten at our table," rephed Moriath. " I shall tell our story, and say that it is not for myself I beg, but because I know thou art too poor to have such a burden thrown on thee. Thou wouldst be happier with Grainne alone. There is no reason why I should not work for our maintenance ; I shall find a friend somewhere." So Moriath went from one religious settlement to another, inquiring for women whose fathers or husbands had been wont to make much of her. I grieve to say that she was for the most part very coldly received. The families to whom she applied had taken her parent's kindness as a matter of course.

It had indeed been a condescension on their part to accept of it. They had received it as an humble recognition of the greatness and sacredness of their hereditary vocation. " Amada has benefited her own soul," was their tacit re joinder. " She has no right to expect a reward on this side of the grave." Moriath at length, mounted on Olrud's pony, and accom panied by a peasant and his sister, journeyed towards Ardmore. Her youthful face wore an expression of unutterable sadness. There were blue circles round her dark eyes, and her pale lips were firmly pressed together. She could think of no friend in the settlement save the chief Lector, and with him her acquaintance was slighter than with many of those who had refused to aid her. Leaving her humble companions outside the arched gate way of the rath, she inquired timidly for Mael-Patrick's ceU.

She was immediately conducted towards the simple stone hut now known as Declan's dormitory. Entering by the low, narrow doorway, she found herself in an apartment whose bare walls, scarce ten feet high, were hung round with leathern book-satchels, and pierced by a solitary round-headed window. The Prae-lector was a young man, she knew not if he were wedded. And Moriath trembled to stand in the presence of one whose fame had spread far beyond the bounds of his native land. A handsome, golden-haired form rose from a wooden table as she entered. Moriath could never tell what she said. Her tears flowed fast, and she sobbed; for Mael-Patrick's brotherly tones touched all the aching chords in her heart. She told him of her weary journeys, of the coldness of her former friends. " I want nothing but work," she said; "I seek the favour of some one who' will speak for me to a chieftain's or an abbot s wife."