Ierne. A tale

Front matter

IERNE Vol. LONDON: PEINTED BT SPOTTISWOODE AND CO.. 1TEW-STBEET SQUABB AND FABLIAMENT STBEET I K R N E. A TALE. BY W. STEUART TRENCH, AUTHOR OF 'REALITIES OF IRISH LIFE.' IN TWO VOLUJIES. VOL. II. LONDON : LONGMANS, GEEEN, AND CO. 1871. The right of translation is reserved. CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME. CHAPTEB PAGE I. The Discovert 1 II. Tipperary 21 III. Thk Devil's Bit 56 IV. The Race for Life ... . .88 V. Unexpected Help . . , . . . 125 VI. Black Hugh and the White Spirit . 115 VII. The Wake 1"3 VIII. The Skellig Rocks .... vi CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME. CHAPTER PAGE IX. The Holt Island 224 X. Dreams Past and Future . . . 242 XL The Strangers in London . . . 265 XII. The Irish Beautt 283 XIII. The End i IERNE

Chapter I. The Discovery

Kathleen and her sister awaited anxiously the arrival of their brother at Derreen. They had heard that Teague's trial had gone against him, and had also heard vague rumours that he had effected his escape from the dock ; but the story was too startling to believe, and they were most anxious to hear the facts from Donald. At length he arrived. He had come from Kenmare by boat, accompanied by the youthful stranger. The surprise of the sisters on seeing the Saxon once more was unbounded, and their gratification was equal to their surprise. ' Teague has escaped ! ' exclaimed Donald, the moment he came within earshot of his sisters. 'He leaped out of the dock just as the judge VOL. II. B ierne. was going to pronounce sentence, knocked over the policeman on whose head and shoulders he alighted, dashed out of the court-house in the confusion, and ran for it down to the coast ; he then got on board a hooker, which it appears was in waiting for him, and escaped out to sea, and has not since been heard of.' Ierne could not help clapping her hands in an ecstasy of joy ; but Kathleen looked more grave. ' Poor Teague ! ' she said. ' And what will become of him now ?' 'Aye, that is indeed the difficulty,' replied Donald. ' We must only hope the best.

He must keep out of the way until this matter blows over. We all know he is innocent, though certainly matters did go strangely against him on the trial. We must endeavour to let the truth be made known to the authorities, and then perhaps some high interest could be brought to bear in his favour, and his pardon might be obtained.' ' I fear I can do but little in a case hke this,' observed the young man whom the sisters had hitherto known under the title of the Saxon stranger ; ' but if you think I could have any influence with the Government, you may depend on its being exerted to the utmost in his favour, both to let the true state of the case be under stood, and also to obtain his pardon.' ' I had forgotten to introduce to you — The Earl of Killarney ! ' said Donald, addressing his sisters. ' Our guest has thrown off his incognito ; indeed he was compelled to do so at the trial, and I must now present him to you in his true name and rank.' ' And a very sorry figure I made of it at the trial,' replied the Earl, laughing ; ' there was scarcely a folly or misdeed I have committed since I came to Ireland that was not dragged from me by that troublesome lawyer Mr. B , and amongst my other confessions he made me announce my name.

I would willingly have concealed it a little longer, as I am certain I shall never again have so good an opportunity of seeing Ireland in her true colours, and hearing the true sentiments of her sons and daughters, as I have had whilst enjoying the charming hospitality of your roof. And now,' he con tinued, turning to Ierne and her sister, ' I have to express my most profound apologies for having so long sailed — I will not say under false colours — but without colours, in your com pany. My only excuse must be that the moment b2 IERNE. I first saw your brother I told him all, so that he at least was not ignorant of the real name of his guest.' Ierne stood like a statue whilst the stranger made this confession. She neither moved nor spoke. Her face became deadly pale, and she seemed quite incapable of controlling the fixed and penetrating look with which she regarded the young man before her.

At length she drew a long breath, and holding out her hand she said, ' We must salute you under a new title, my lord, and we welcome you to Derreen most sincerely, but — ' and here she stopped and hesitated for a moment, during which the blood rushed back to her cheeks. ' But exactly on the same terms as before,' interrupted the Earl hastily. ' I trust, whilst I remain, I may be allowed to stand on exactly the same footing as heretofore. I always dreaded this,' he said, turning to Donald, distressed and almost annoyed as he observed Ierne's hesitation. 'May I earnestly beg you will persuade your sisters that an English gentleman is no more than an English gentleman, whether he have a title to his name or not, and as an English gentleman I have been already known to them. I trust I am safe in saying this.' 'Most certainly,' replied Donald. 'As au Enghsh gentleman you came amongst us, and as such you have borne yourself throughout.

There can be no question about that. But you must excuse my sisters if they are a little startled at the announcement which has been so suddenly made. We are not accustomed here to rank and titles ; our own have been long since wrested from us ; and it is hard for young girls to speak with the same freedom to the wealthy young Earl of Killarney as they have hitherto done to a plain English gentleman, even though his name was unknown.' ' Just what I dreaded,' replied the Earl, much disconcerted and annoyed ; and addressing Kath leen, who had hitherto stood silent and unmoved at this new and unexpected revelation, he said — ' May I hope we shall be as good friends as before this unfortunate announcement ? You know not, you cannot know, the pleasure and advantage I have derived from my visit here.

Surely all this need not be interrupted now.' ' Lord Killarney,' replied Kathleen, with a smile in which native dignity was mingled with sweetness and composure, 'you need not fear the slightest alteration in me. Why should there IERNE be ? It is true you bear a lofty title, and that you are sprung from noble ancestors. But we cannot yield to you in these. Let us be friends then. Your title is Irish, my lord,' she added, ' it is yours by conquest as a companion of the old invader Strongbow. Who can tell but it may yet be ours again ? ' ' I would with all my heart,' he said, ' that I could confer it on one of your race, and amend in some slight degree the injury which my an cestors have so long inflicted upon yours. Per haps even this might yet come to pass.' ' I cannot see it,' replied Kathleen. ' The haughty followers of Strongbow have never been too willing to disgorge either their estates or their titles, which they have wrung from us Irish by conquest.' The young man turned to Ierne. ' Can you conceive it possible,' he said in a softened tone, ' that a channel could be formed in which the blue blood of the Irish race could mingle with that of the haughty Norman invader ? ' 'I can!' replied Ierne. 'And I have often dreamed of such ; but it must be a channel cut out by the sword, in which the blood of the Saxon and the Celt shall mingle together when they meet in combat to fight for the ancient land.

I can conceive no other channel in which their blood could mingle than that.' The Earl turned gently to Donald. ' My friend,' he said, ' for I know you will allow me to call you so notwithstanding the warlike speech of your sister, I have come to bid you farewell, and to thank you and your sisters for the great kindness and hospitality I have received at your hands. I should hke also to know something about Teague before I leave. And if you think I can be of any use to him in his trouble, you may command my services to the utmost in any way you think desirable.' ' We are all grateful for the offer,' replied Donald, ' and perhaps we may yet draw upon your kindness. May I ask if your lordship in tends soon to quit Ireland ? ' ' No,' replied the Earl. ' Now that my name is known I may as well remain and visit my estates at once.

To-morrow I propose to go to Tipperary, in which county hes a considerable property which has been in my family for gene rations. There is no mansion house or landlord's residence upon it, but I have no doubt I can find accommodation somewhere in the locality.' O'Sulevan said no more. He did not press him to remain. He felt that the announcement IERNE of Lord Killarney 's name and rank had created a distance between them which he was unwilling to acknowledge, but which he saw was expe rienced by every member of his family. It was impossible they could aU be on exactly the same terms as before, and he did not object to the arrangement now proposed. The little party Avalked up silently from the shore. A restraint which they coidd not avoid feeling had crept over all ; and it was a relief when they reached the house.

Ierne, on retiring to her room, flung herself passionately on her bed. Now, for the first time, she knew that she loved the Saxon stranger. So long as he had maintained his disguise she had neglected — almost refused — to search into the secrets of her heart. She had yielded to the fascination of his company, had admired his courage, his gentleness, and his noble bearing, and by degrees had allowed herself to be en tangled in an attachment which it was impossible she could longer indulge. What right had she, the daughter of a ruined house, to think of Lord Killarney as a lover ? On the first announcement of his rank she could scarce restrain her tears. She experienced the terrible sensation that her heart had been taken away from her, by one who could never give her his in return. Her pride rose high to her assistance, and prompted the wild words she used.

But she little knew that he whom she deemed to be her greatest enemy, whom she almost longed in her anger to see confronted with the friends of Ire land in deadly strife, had equally lost his heart to her ; and in truth was only prevented from telling her so plainly by the angry speech she had made in reply to his scarcely doubtful question. Her sister Kathleen knocked gently at her door, and with difficulty obtained admittance. She found her still sobbing and giving way to the most passionate grief. She did not reproach her. She could guess the cause of her anguish, and only kissed her tenderly. ' Get up, dearest, and dry your tears ; you must soon come down ; you must not let tears be noticed.' 'I would die sooner than let him know I shed a tear,' exclaimed Ierne ; and springing from her bed she at once commenced her toilet, and soon obliterated all marks of her mental conflict.

The dinner was somewhat constrained, but the gentle and conciliatory manner of the Earl IERNE graduahy induced them to adopt some of their former freedom, and by the time the gentlemen had joined the ladies in the drawing-room all recent stiffness had nearly passed away. ' I trust you will still permit me to call you by your own sweet name,' said the Earl, approaching Ierne, and addressing her in a low voice ; ' and that you will allow me again, before I leave, to hear one of your beautiful songs ? ' 'Willingly. Are you resolved to go early to-morrow ? ' ' Yes,' he replied. ' I think it is better I should go ; and,' he added in a lower tone, ' your warlike speech, embracing all my race, Avithout exception, gives me little encourage ment either to remain or return.' Ierne was silent for a few minutes, her eyes cast down, whilst a deep blush suffused her cheeks.

At length she looked up and said — ' Have you ever, when angry, said what you did not quite think or wish ? ' ' Yes,' he replied. ' Was that your case then? ' ' I am not sure,' she answered. ' Yes, partly so, but it is hard to analyse all our feelings.' ' May I return ? ' he said in a low voice. • Yes,' she rephed, in a voice equally low. ' I shall be glad to see you.' Both were silent for a few minutes. He then said, ' You promised me a song.

Will you sing it now? ' 'What would you hke?' asked Ierne. ' Whatever you please,' he replied ; ' only let it be national.' He placed the guitar in her hands, and she sang the following lines : — ' Oh blame me not, if I love to dwell On Erin's early glory: Oh blame me not, if too oft I tell The same inspiring story; For sure 'tis much to know and feel That the race now rated lowly Once ruled as lords with sceptre of steel, Whilst our Island was called the " Holy." ' 'Tis much to know that our lov'd saints then To their cloisters the stranger drew, And taught the Goth and Saxon men All of heaven the old earth knew ; When Alfred and Dagobert students were In the sacred " Angel's Vale," And harp heard harp in the midnight air Pealing forth the hymns of the Gael. ' 'Tis much to know that in the west The sun of our wisdom rose, And the barbarous clouds that scarred its breast Were scatter'd like baffled foes : IERNE, To know that in our heart there dwell Some seeds of the men of story ; Oh blame me not, if 1 love to tell Of Erin's ancient glory /' ' ' You need not fear that I shall ever blame you for telling of Erin's ancient glory,' said the Earl gently, as he took her hand in his. ' My sojourn here has at least taught me to honour and respect the feelings of her ancient people.' Tears stood in Ierne's eyes. ' Good night,' she said. ' I am tired.

We have had a long day of watching and anxiety. You leave early in the morning ? ' ' Yes,' he replied ; ' but — au revoir ? ' '■Au revoir' she said. ' Good night.' No sooner had the ladies retired than O'Sulevan addressed the Earl. ' Your lordship said you were going to visit your estate in Tipperary. Have you any idea of what condition it is in, or how it is circum stanced ? ' ' Very httle,' replied the Earl. ' I know that it lies a few miles from what are called the " Devil's Bit " Mountains, and is, on the whole, good land ; but I know httle of its people or neighbourhood. I am resolved, however, to 1 See Preface. make myself acquainted with both, though I hear they are not the best disposed peasantry in the world.' ' Judge for yourself, my lord,' replied O'Sule van, 'and let no man mislead you on that point.

You must be fatigued after your long journey, and you say you must leave early to-morrow. Good night. I hope to see you off in the morn ing.' And he conducted the Earl to his room. A somewhat different scene was being enacted in Teague's homely cottage across the little arm of the sea. When Peggy and old Aileen had finished their supper, which had been so kindly pre pared for them by the neighbours, and which Stephens and Teague had already taken advan tage of, they carefully barred and locked the door, leaving a small window unfastened at the back of the house, to enable Teague to escape should an alarm be given ; and the four who were now inside — Stephens, old Aileen, Peggy, and Teague, drew their chairs close to the sire to consult what should next be done. ' What will I do at all ? ' said Teague. ' The bloodhounds will surely be down upon me now, and what chance have I of escape ?

It would be a'most as good for me to be in prison as running for my life as I am.' IERNE 'Don't talk that way, Teague,' said old Aileen, ' and Mr. Stephens here that saved ye. Hould up a good heart, man, and all will go well yet. Where ought he to make for, Mr. Stephens, for surely this is no place for him ? ' ' You're right there, Mrs. O'Hanlon,' replied Stephens. 'He should be off at once to Tip perary. They are bold fellows there, and I know of no place where a man " on his keeping " is so safe as amongst the gallant boys of Tipperary.' ' There is a first cousin of mine lives nigh the Devil's Bit,' said Teague. ' I think he'd help a body in trouble well ; what do you say if I'd be off to him in the morning early ? ' 'You couldn't do better,' replied Stephens. ' If there is a place in Ireland you'd be safe in, it's there.' ' Troth, and you're right in that same,' observed Aileen, 'and so let it be.

They are good friends down there, though I hear tell they do wild work sometimes.' 'Never you mind that,' rephed Stephens. ' Teague will have enough to do to mind him self — especially when he won't have me with him.' ' Well now, Mr. Stephens, but you managed that well,' said Teague. ' And my ould mother's fainting in the beginning was just the making of it all. As sure as I live I thought she did it on purpose.' ' In troth, then, you are out there,' said Peggy. ' Sure wasn't I beside her ah the time, and down she dropped in as raal a faint as ever a poor woman had. Why wouldn't she, poor soid, when her only son was dependin' on her, to be hanged or not ? ' ' Bedad,' said Teague, ' whether she was shammin' or not — and I still have my own opinion on that — sure it was the savin' of me anyway.

May I never, but I could hardly run for laughin' when I leapt on the top of the policeman's head, and bowld him over like a nine-pin. That same chap would have took me after, only for the shot in the leg ye gave him, Mr. Stephens.' ' WeU, well, sure ye are safe for a time any way,' said Stephens, ' and troth it wasn't much good the young English lord did ye either, much as ye thought of him in the beginning.' 'Well, now, that's true,' rephed Teague, ' and yet he done his best ; but who could stand against those vagabon' lawyers? If that B didn't turn over the poor young lord, IEKNE it's no matter. Ye'd think he was all out a foot-ball for the kickin' and smashin' they gave him. But in troth he done his best, and I'd depend my life on him still, so I would, especially in a fair or pattern when fightin' is going on.' ' Well, Teague, it's time you were thinkin' of bein' off.

It's little good the young lord could do ye, if once the police catch a hold of ye. So now to bed. And be up by daylight and away off to Thurles. Your friends live near that, and they'll take care ye don't starve any way.' The party now separated for the night. Aileen retired to the room which she and Peggy occupied together. A separate apart ment was prepared for Stephens, and Teague agreed to sleep on a settle bed in the kitchen. As Peggy retired, she whispered to Teague that she would be out soon again. Teague nodded intelligence, and sat down by the fire ' to think,' as he expressed it. When all was quiet and silent, and old Aileen fast asleep, Peggy cautiously opened the door, and stole gently into the kitchen, and without saying a word sat down before the fire beside Teague. She took his hand in hers, and sat for some minutes, neither of them speaking a word.

At last she said — ' Teague, you and I were to have been married next Shrovetide — how will it be with us now ? ' ' I can't say, Peggy,' replied Teague. ' You know as much as I do. I am on my keepin' now, and what's the use of talkin' of marryin' ? ' ' No use at all,' said Peggy. ' I know that ; I only wanted to show you I didn't forget it. Nor I'd never forget it, if you were hung, drawn, and quartered, as they say they do to rebels. Teague, I'll never forget you, come what will, and I hope you will never forget me.' ' Never, my darlin',' cried Teague. ' Never while there's the breath of life in my body.' ' I'm not so sure of that, Teague,' said Peggy. ' I know you think so now. But you are going to a country where there is wild work on foot, and pretty girls besides, and how will it be with you then ? ' ' The same as it is now, Peggy,' said Teague. ' The same as it is now, darlin' ; I wouldn't care for all the purty girls in Ireland, and that's a big word, for there's plenty of them, compared with my own acushla machree — Peggy.' ' I hope so, dear Teague, I hope so ; but I VOL. II. c IERNE, have a word to say besides that.

Tipperary is a wild place, as I was saying, and the Devil's Bit Mountains, they say, is about the wildest in it. There are people there who would be only too glad to get you in with themselves, and may be it's joinin' them you'd be when I'm not with you to watch you. You know, Teague, you were always too fond of fightin'.' ' Well now, Peggy, I don't deny that ; but sure it's hidin' I'll be from the Peelers all day instead of fightin'. Sorra stroke I'll hit mortal man till I see your own sweet face again, Peggy ; and sure you'll let me out for a bit then, if it was nothin' but for the joy of seein' you.' ' None of your humbug, Teague,' said Peggy, who could not help smiling at the mode in which Teague proposed to testify his joy on his return. ' None of your humbug, Teague. Will you promise me now not to be joinin' with any of them wild chaps down about Borris-o-leio-h or the Devil's Bit, where, if report be true, they would as soon shoot a landlord as look at him ? ' 'Ah, whisht, Peggy!' said Teague indignantly. 'Why would I be joining with the likes of them ?

What do you take me for at all ? ' ' I take ye for havin' an honest warm heart in your body, Teague, as ever beat inside that of a man yet, or I never would have promised to take ye for my husband. But I take ye also for being light and flighty when ye get a drop in ye, and fond of fightin', so ye are ; and I'm in dhread lest any of those wild chaps down there should entice ye to mischief when they know you are on your keepin'. " It's as good to be hanged for a sheep as a lamb," says they, when they hear all about it. " In for a penny, in for a pound ; " and that's the way they'll be talkin', and what I'm afeared of is that maybe they'll get ye to do something bad when ye haven't me to watch over ye, Teague, dear.' And Teague felt the tears of the gentle affectionate girl drop fast upon his hand as she held it. ' Well now, hsten to me, Peggy, darlin',' said Teague, in an earnest and solemn voice, 'I never deceived ye yet, and that ye know well, whatever white lies I might tell the family of an odd time up at the big house beyond, just to keep their minds 'asy, you know.

But I never deceived ye, Peggy ; and now I'm as good as on my knees before ye, when I promise by the Blessed Virgin that I never will join with the likes of the chaps you talk of. They may do what they like themselves, but they'll never get me to join them, or do a bad act for them — c2 IERNE. that is,' said Teague, correcting himself, ' barrin' the knockin' down of a policeman or two if they wanted to make bold to take me. Ye wouldn't object to that, Peggy, darlin', would ye ? Sure I'd do that same if ye were lookin' at me with your own two purty eyes.' Peggy neither granted nor refused her con sent to the exception, but merely said — ' Well now, Teague, mind you have promised me, and whenever any of those wild chaps wants to tempt ye to do a bad act, just think for a moment of her you left behind in Glen more, and say to yourself, " I wonder what would Peggy say to this ?

" and then you'll know well what Peggy would say ; and little Peggy will be a guardian angel over you, Teague, and will pray for you while you are away, and maybe the Blessed Virgin will keep ye from all harm, and send ye back to your own Peggy again without a stain of crime upon you. So good-night, dear Teague, and remem ber all I said to ye.' And the sweet gentle girl threw her arms about his neck and kissed him, and cried like a little child. Then, disentail" ling herself from his embrace, she stole on tip toe back to her little bed in old Aileen's room, where fatigue soon closed her eyelids in deep and innocent sleep. TIPPERARY.

Chapter II. Tipperary

The traveller by the Great Southern and Western Railway in Ireland can scarcely fail to observe that remarkable gap in the top of the ridge of mountains which lies west of the line between the stations of Templemore and Thurles. The gap is called the ' Devil's Bit,' being exactly the shape of an enormous bite — if we can sup pose such to be taken — out of the top of the mountain. There are many legends related by the peasantry connected with this ' Devil's Bit.' The most current appears to be that the devil was at one time severely chastised by Saint Patrick, and in his anger and rage he seized the piece of rock in question in his mouth, and ' taking a bite out of the mountain as a child would out of a cake,' he was about to hurl the rock at the head of the saint. But the latter perceived his design, and raising his celebrated staff or crozier, IERNE. he threatened to smite Satan therewith.

One blow of this staff would have sent him to the bottomless pit. At the sight of the crozier the devil fled, with the rock still in his mouth, and being chased through the air by St. Patrick, he was compelled to let it fall, when it dropped on the rich plains of Tipperary, and now forms the Rock of Cashel. St. Patrick then blessed the rock he had forced from the devil's mouth, lest it should damage the land where it fell ; and soon after a church dedicated to the saint was built thereon, and it ultimately became the centre of one of the most celebrated ecclesiastical establishments in Ireland. The ruins on the Rock of Cashel are still very beautiful, though they have fallen much into decay. But ' Cormac's Chapel ' is almost as perfect as ever. It is supposed to have been built in the commencement of the tenth century by Cormac MacCarthy, King of Desmond or South Munster, and at the same time Arch bishop of Cashel.

The castle of the king is joined to the cathedral of the archbishop, and thus at the same time he assumed the offices of priest and king. The view from the tower, wiiich is ascended by a spiral staircase of lime stone, is one of the finest in Ireland — not so TIPPERARY. 23 much m picturesque beauty as in deep historic interest. Here stands ' Cashel of the Kings.' x Here were placed some of the early and most distinguished seats of learning in Ireland, the ruined abbeys of which are still visible scattered around its base, and from its towers can be obtained a bird's-eye view of that splendid tract of land called ' The Golden Vein of Ireland,' which rivals in richness and fertihty the soil of any country in the world. It was no wonder that Cromwell, as he stood upon the heights of ' Cashel of the Kings,' exclaimed to his generals around him, ' No doubt this is a land worth fighting for ; ' and he fought for it and won it.