The Vatican, or The heir of Limerick

Introduction

Dear Reader: —

It is customary to omit preface. I beg you to make an exception in my case. This is not a work of fiction, it is a record of facts. Therefore, the reader will not expect me to dispose of its various characters on artistic principles, that is, lay them away in one of those final receptacles for the creation of the romancer.

The characters 1 have introduced are real and not drawn with the pencil of fancy. Some may think the heroine of the story is rather overdrawn and that the influence exerted over rougher natures exceeds the bounds of probability, and yet who shall set limits to those gracious influences which may be exerted by one so faultless and pure upon ruder natures ?

VVe are apt to forget the Prophet’s vision of the latter day glory of the Church, when the wolf shall dwell with the lamb and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the young lion and the falling together, and a little child shall lead them.

It is the unseen forces of nature, and those which operate most noiselessly, which are the most powerful; and eye hath not seen, neither hath ear heard, nor hath entered into the imagination of man the forces which are most potent in forming the characters of individual men and shaping the destiny of the race.

By the Author,

Esidore Kerfoot.

THE VATICAN

OR

Chapter I

In 1849 Mary Russell was deprived, by death, of her father, he being massacred, with many others, by the Indians, while crossing the plains to regain his health and increase his fortune in California, leaving his wife and three children, Mary and Harold being twins and the oldest, in comfortable circumstances and a beautiful home of their own in the suburbs of Philadelphia. It was a large and aristocratic looking gray stone house, very much after the style of Mr. Russell’s home in London, with its wide verandas and its massive columns, covered with Virginia ivy. The lawns were shaded with beautiful elm trees. The interior of the house, with its massive mahogany doors and stair-cases, with drawingrooms and music-room on one side and library 5 well filled with the best literature, and diningroom on the other side, with large fire-places and massive brass fenders and fire-dogs. The furnishings throughout the house were in keeping with the house itself; it was a unique and beautiful home.

Mr. Russell’s partner, William Mavor, being the older of the two and a native of America, encouraged him to go, telling him it would benefit his health, and also give him an opportunity of seeing the beautiful western country, and that he would take good care of his family and business until he returned to them again.

Mary Russell was born in the old illustrious town of Sidney. Its name which carries with it, shows the attestation of its genuine nobility. Her parents were Highly cultured and respectable people. They were not merely of the aristocracy of rank, but of the aristocracy of mind. She came to America with them at the age of nine.

Mary’s parents were born in London. Her mother was the only child of Squire Jerome Maxwell, a barrister to the Queen’s bench, and an officer in the Revolutionary war. His daughter inherited a comfortable fortune at his death. Mary’s mother was a fine linguist and a talented musician. Her father was a graduate of Oxford, a good Christian man, and the only child of a widowed mother. Being honest himself, he considered every one else the same; he entrusted his family and fortune to the care of a silent partner, a comparative stranger to him.

Mary’s thoughts far exceeded her years. When she first saw her father’s partner, she did not like him, and always shrunk beneath his gaze; but as she was only a child, little attention was paid to her seeming reticence. After Mr. Russell’s death, his wife knew, by being careful, the income from her husband’s business would more than support and educate her children. Shortly after the death of her husband, Mr. Mavor informed her that she must be very careful about her expenses, as business was not very good at the present time.

Mrs. Russell’s income had commenced to lessen a great deal. Mr. Mavor had informed her that in place of a further withdrawal of funds, he considered it to be necessary for her to replace her withdrawals, in order to tide the business over the dull times, as he called them.

In the meantime he was building a fine residence down on the Hudson for himself and family, while Mary’s mother was walking the floor at night, crying and wondering what would become of her and her little family, who were strangers in a strange land. At last Mr. Mavor informed her that she would have to put at least a thousand dollars more into the business, and it would have to be done immediately, telling her, if it became necessary, she would have to mortgage her home until it was sold, and he would try and do all he could to raise the money for her from some of his wife’s wealthy relatives, who lived out west. The poor woman, rather than have her children want, would sacrifice anything she had for their comfort and to care for them, until she could sell her home and business to take them back to England, putting the house into the hands of Mavor for sale, and, of course, he was none to anxious to sell it, as he had gotten so much of her fortune already he was going to do the best he could to get the rest. As time went on and the home was not yet sold, the beautiful furniture had to be mortgaged for less than one-third of what it cost. Mr. Mayor’s son, who was a clerk in her husband’s business, and about to be married, was the mortgagee. After a while, one beautiful piece after another of the fine old family silver, with the Maxwell coat-of-arms on, was pawned to the Mayors. As the house was not yet sold, and no income from the business was being received, Mrs. Russell began to teach music and French, when her little son, Jerome, the youngest of the children, was taken sick with the typhoid fever, and after lingering two or three weeks, went to sleep in the arms of Jesus

Mrs Russell was a very proud and independent woman. As long as she had anything to realize money on, she would not ask help from strangers, and in order to bury her little son, she was obliged to sacrifice her costly jewels and wedding laces, many of them being old family heirlooms, handed down from generation to generation. She had expected some day to give these to her little daughter to transmit as legacies to future posterity.

The Mayors always had a little money when Mrs. Russell was obliged to make a sacrifice, telling her they were borrowing it from friends to accommodate her, knowing how embarrassing it would be for her to go to strangers.

The poor woman, after the funeral of her little son, commenced to break down under the dreadful strain of losing husband, child and fortune, all in such a short time. The beautiful home that cost eighteen thousand dollars only a few years before, was under a mortgage now for one thousand dollars, Mavor telling her that as money was very scarce at the present time, that was all he could borrow for her, and three month’s interest out of that would have to be paid in advance, and the rest would have to go into the business right off. The poor sick and sorrowful woman, by this time, was satisfied there was something wrong.

IT but she could not help herself, knowing her Heavenly Father would bring all things to light some day.

“Poor weary heart, by the cares of life oppressed,

Is wandering in the shadow and sighing for a rest ; Weary heart, God is rest.”

The poor woman could not stand the dreadful strain any longer, and succumbed to the fever herself, she being out of her mind most of the time; her darling little daughter being her constant attendant day and night. For the first time, during Mrs. Russell’s sickness, she recognized her children and was conscious that she was going to leave them very'soon. She told Mary to guard the papers and care for Harold, praying that he would continue to be a good boy as she had always taught him to be. She knew Mary trusted in God, and that He would bring all hidden deeds to light.

At that Mr. Mavor and his wife came into the room. Seeing that she was sinking fast, they tried to induce her to tell them where she kept all the valuable papers and other ^valuables in regard to the home and business. The poor woman was only thinking of her God and what would become of her little children, without friends or relatives in America. Ignoring his question, and knowing what he meant, she prayed to God to protect her children until the time came when they would meet at the throne of Grace.

After the death of Mrs. Russell, until the funeral, either Mavor or some of his family stayed at the Russell home all the time, and would not let the children out, fearing the neighbors might see and question them in regard to what was going to be done with them and their home. The evening before the funeral Mavor brought two small satchels in a carriage, and in the morning his wife handed them to Mary, telling her to pack a few articles of her own and Harold’s clothing in them, as Mr. Mavor was going to take them, after the funeral, to stay with some friends of theirs for a few days, until everything was settled; then he would bring them back. Mary said nothing, but did what she was told. It was her darling, dead mother, who was laid out in the parlor, that she was thinking of at that time, and not clothes. Mavor didn’t have the slightest idea of the foresight of this very young girl he had commenced to deal with.

After her father’s death, Mary was her mother’s confidant in everything she did. Mrs. Russell always had her little daughter with her when she transacted any business with Mavor,calling her her little barrister, and telling her how much she was like her dear old grandfather Maxwell, and she wished he was living now to care for them all, but she trusted her Heavenly Father for that.

Mary knew why Mavor was so anxious to find out where the valuable papers were kept, but he had no idea that she was the possessor of them; and when she was told to pack a few articles of her every-day clothes, and the poorest of them at that, she packed the papers also, for where she went, they went too; but no one ever knew that but God and herself. Mrs. Russell’s neighbors were anxious to know what was going to be done with the children and their property, Mavor’s wife telling them Mrs.

Russell wished Mr. Mavor to put them in a boarding-school until they were of age, and it was his intention to do so right after the funeral. This explanation was all very satisfactory to the neighbors, they believing it to be true.

The children were taken right from their mother’s grave over to New York and put in a Catholic orphan asylum. The little things clung to each other on the train, crying for their good Christian mother, for such she was. When they arrived at the asylum, it was long after dark. Mary cried most bitterly, saying to Mavor, “Are those your friends?” and asking him what he was going to do with her brother. He told her he would take good care of him and they would soon see each other again, and if they ever dared to go back to Philadelphia, unless they had money to pay him for all his trouble and for burying their mother, he would bring them back and put them over on the island, telling them what a dreadful place it was.

Poor Mary never rebelled against anything.

She kept silent and saw through it all, knowing how helpless and penniless they were, and only children in the hands of strangers. While Mavor was having a whispered conversation with Sister Raphael, Mary was talking to Harold, telling him to be a good, honest boy and remember his mother’s last words, and take everything to God in prayer, and trust Him for all and in all things. When Mavor got ready to take Harold away to put him in the asylum for boys, Mary kissed him again and again, handing him their mother’s Bible, saying, “May God be with you, my brother, and protect you, until we meet again.”

Oh, what a very sad night that was for poor Mary, under the roof of an orphan asylum, separated from all she loved! But she knew that God was with her and would protect her from all sin.

A few days after Mary was put in the asylum, a Mrs. Murphy called for a little girl who might be old enough to help with the housework and do chores for her board and clothes.

i6 The Vatican, Or

Two or three children were brought in for inspection, Mary Russell being among them. She was immediately chosen by Mrs. Murphy. Sister Raphael told Mrs. Murphy that no one could have her unless they sent her to school. The kind-hearted sister was sorry for Mary, telling her if Mrs. Murphy was not good to her to be sure and come right back to them again and they would try to procure another home for her. But the poor girl felt that any kind of a home was better than the asylum, and she was glad to be free once more, in hopes that she could find her brother. The Murphys lived in an old house of four rooms and a garret, where Mary slept. Mr. Murphy, when sober, worked on the wharves, loading and unloading steamers. They were very coarse people, utterly without either education or ambition. Their earthly belongings, besides a little old furniture, consisted of a couple of cows and some chickens. This is the kind of a home the little refined Mary Russell commenced her orphan life in.

Her little heart was stilled now by every anxious care; she was going to leave all things to Him in perfect rest and prayer. The first thing Mrs. Murphy did after getting Mary home was to cut off her beautiful auburn curls. When she saw the scissors in Mrs. Murphy’s hands, she cried and begged her not to cut them off, for she said her darling dead mother used to comb and curl them and kiss her on the head, calling her her curly-headed darling. Oh, how the tears did flow from her beautiful mild brown eyes, with their long lashes and arched brow! As the scissors went through her beautiful hair, Mrs. Murphy slapped her in the face and pulled her hair, telling her to stop crying or she would give her more than that to cry for. Oh, cruel death, what a change from a happy Christian home and a clean-spread table, where a blessing was always asked, to that of ignorance and poverty! When Mary went to the table, she waited for the blessing, as was her usual way at home. Mr. Murphy asked her what she was waiting for. She told him for the blessing. In a sneering way he looked at his wife and told her they didn't i8 The Vatican, Or

have anything like that on the table. Mrs. Murphy smiled and told Mary she must do away with all that kind of foolishness now. She also told her she must never tell any one where she took her from, or that her name was Mary Russell, for she would now be called Mary Murphy. The poor girl was always glad when night came, though it was in the garret she, had to sleep, so that she could be alone .with her God. When she was asked if she was afraid to sleep up there alone, she said, “Oh, no,” she could never be alone, for God was everywhere. Mrs. Russel had taught her children early in life, though their earthly father could leave them, their Heavenly Father would never leave them or forsake them.

Poor Mary prayed fervently to God to protect her and her brother wherever he was, and that she might see him soon again. She had to work very hard for the Murphys, helping with the work and delivering milk before and after school. When out of school, the only time she had for study was at night in the old garret, by the light of a candle. Every night before she commenced to study she thanked God for the blessing of the day and asked Him in the name of Jesus to increase her knowledge and understanding, and fill her with the wisdom of the Holy Ghost, that in it she might glorify His name. Professor Graham knew how hard she had to work, and marvelled at her progress and wisdom in school, always bringing her up as an example to her class. The girls in Mary’s room and class were very jealous of her, because she was always at the head of the class before school was out, and did not notice her when out of school, on account of her humble position and poor clothes. Mary prayed to God to give her grace to bear these slights and insults, knowing it was not good clothes or high social position that pleased her Heavenly Father, but good works and righteousness. She was a very conscientious and independent girl, and was not ashamed of her humble position, but thanked God for giving her strength and knowledge to work for her living.

The Grahams were very fond of her and were satisfied that she had seen better days, and saw from her manners that she was beautifully raised; but whenever they would ask her anything of her former life and home, she would look at them in such a sweet, pathetic way, as much as to say, “Please don’t ask me,*^ and that was all they could get out of her. They were very anxious to have her leave the Murphys, and would gladly take her as their own child, for they had only one, a son, four or five years older than Mary, who, in a short time, would be leaving them to go abroad and enter college in Berlin. Mary told them she would not leave the Murphys under any circumstances, saying that she believed her Heavenly Father had a purpose in her being with them, and she was going to do God’s will in all things, no matter how hard it might be, and some time they would understand why it was all so.

The next morning was very dark and rainy, and Mary, not feeling well, forgot to deliver the milk to Mrs. Hickey, and as the Hickeys and the Murphys were very warm friends, it was the cause of Mary getting a dreadful scolding after she came home from school that day, and she was not allowed any supper that evening. The poor girl did not sleep very much that night, thinking of the past and wondering what God had in store for her in the future.

As she was a little late in getting downstairs next morning, Mrs. Murphy crept upstairs in her stocking feet and found her on her knees, praying; so she stole up behind her, catching her by the hair and kicking her. Just as she was about to strike her, the poor girl raised her hands to protect herself, and looking Mrs. Murphy straight in the face, said, “Please don’t, God is looking at you,’’ and cried aloud to her Heavenly Father to give ear to her prayer and supplication. The prayers uttered by Mary that morning touched the cold, ignorant woman’s heart, and haunted her all day. For the first time in her life Mrs. Murphy was convicted of sin. Oh, how anxious she was to see the dear girl that afternoon, fearing that when she came home, it would be for her few clothes, and to leave them. As the school was a mile and a half from the Murphys’, she could not get home at noon, so she spent that hour in prayer and reading her little Testament, which she always carried in her pocket. Professor Graham's family lived only a short distance from the school, and as long as they could not have Mary live with them as their daughter, they did all they could to have her as their lunch guest. This Mary declined, thanking them most kindly and telling them she preferred to have that hour for spiritual food, in company with her Heavenly Father.

That afternoon, when Mary got home, she found Mrs. Murphy crying, for Mr Murphy had lost his position on account of being drunk just one time too often, and this caused his wife great sorrow, not knowing when or how he would get another place. Though she had brought tears to Mary’s eyes many a time with unkind words and cruel blows, Mary could not bear to see her or any one else crying. The lovely girl put her arms around Mrs. Murphy’s neck, and said, “Don’t cry, come, carry your burdens to Jesus, pour out your heart to Him and trust in His mercy,” telling her that is what she always did. At that Mr. Murphy woke up out of a drunken stupor, and commenced to beat and abuse his wife, when Mary, quick as a flash, stepped in between them, receiving the blow that was intended for Mrs. Murphy, cutting her on the side of the head. The blood corhmenced to flow in profusion, which scared Mr. Murphy so much that he commenced to sober up and was very sorry, doing all he could for the poor girl. Mary, with a wet cloth to her head, and tears in her beautiful eyes, looked Mr. Murphy straight in the face and said: “Oh, did you ever think of the innocent blood that Christ shed on Calvary’s cross for sinners? and there was no one that wiped the blood away from His sacred wounds. That same Jesus suffered for your sins and mine. Won’t you surrender your will and come to Him now? ‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him, should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ ”

Mr. Murphy looked at Mary for a minute or two, and said: “Mary, how can you be so kind and forgiving and stay with people who have treated you as we have, when you know that you don't have to?” She told him when God could stand by sinners and forgive them, she could do so too. When Mrs. Murphy saw what Mary had done to save her from the cruel blow, she put her arms around her neck and asked her forgiveness for all the cruel words and blows she had given her. Mary took her by the hand and led her over to where her husband stood, saying, “I know you both love each other, and it is only sin that makes you cruel and unkind. Come, let us pray.” While they were yet on their knees, and Mary was invoking God’s blessing upon them, a loud knock came to the door, and in staggered Jim Daily and big Mike Hurley, who was considered the bully of the ward. They were half drunk, and tried to get Mr. Murphy out with them; but he said to them: “Not to-night, boys, not to-night. Come and listen to the story that little Mary has to tell of Jesus and His love.”

But that was not the kind of a story they wanted to hear just then. Catching hold of Mr. Murphy by the arm, they said, “By gob, you must come down to the corner with us, old boy, and then we’ll come back again and hear the story.’’ But Mary knew her efforts would be futile this time if they got down to the corner, for that meant a night’s carousal at Billy Ford’s saloon, and as quick as a flash, she said to Mrs. Murphy: “Please hurry up and make a good strong cup of coffee for them. I don’t think the poor fellows have had anything to eat since morning, and that will help sober them up, as they have been drinking, and I will sing a song for them.’’ Just as they had reached the door, pulling Mr. Murphy by the arm, Mary ran up to them in a pleading way and said, “Oh, please come back. If you don’t care to hear the story, I can sing you a good Irish song. Oh, do come back, and you can go afterwards if you must.’’ The poor girl, with a sad heart and aching head, commenced to sing the song:

“There is a dear spot in Ireland that I long to see, 'Tis my old native birth-place, and it’s Heaven to me.

Sure, my poor widowed mother lived there alone, With my brothers and sisters ’twas a bright, happy home.

Sure we hadn’t much money, but my own mother dear

Gave me her blessing, bid my heart be of good cheer,

Then the shadows of poverty darkened our door. And I left Ireland and mother, because we were poor.

They all looked at Mary with a very sad countenance, and especially Mr. Murphy and his wife, when they saw her poor little head tied up and she trying to sing to keep their drunken friends from the saloon. It was the first time the Murphys ever heard a note of music from the dear girl, and they were very much surprised, saying it sounded to their ears like the thrush and the nightingale in their own native land.

Mrs. Murphy invited the men to sit down to a good cup of coffee and some supper, telling them that Mary would sing again as soon as they had finished. After supper the men were quite sobered up, and asked Mrs. Murphy for water so that they could wash themselves, for they now realized their pitiable condition. As soon as they were through, Mary sang:

“The valley lay smiling before me, where lately I left her behind,

Yet I trembled and something hung o’er me that saddened the joy of my mind,

I looked for the lamp which she told me should shine when her pilgrim returned,

But though darkness began to infold me, no lamp from the battlement burned.”

These were the songs of their own native isle, sung so sweetly and pathetically by her that it touched a tender chord in their hearts. Jim Daily, in a sobbing voice, said: “Oh, what a fool and a wretch liquor makes of any one.“ At that Mr. Murphy stood up, raising his hand towards Heaven, and said, with the help of God, he had taken his last drink of liquor or anything else that would harm him or be the cause of his doing harm to others, and after this he would be a better man than he had ever been before in his life.

Then Mary told them the story of the Prodigal Son, how he came to his father, hungry, dirty and ragged, and with open arms his father received him, and gave him the best he had to give, and that was the way they should come to their Heavenly Father and He would receive them and forgive them all their sins, remembering them no more. Mary told them He was not a dead Jesus; though He died for our sins He arose again for our justification. Then she begged them with tears in her eyes to get down on their knees and make a complete surrender to God, confessing their sins in the silence of their heart, and if they had ever harmed anybody in thought, word, or action, to do all they could to right that wrong and He would forgive them. While they were on their knees, crying and praying, Mary sang in a sweet, low voice:

“Pass me not, O gentle Saviour, hear my humble cry,

While on others Thou art shining, do not pass me by.”

Mr. Murphy cried aloud to God for mercy and forgiveness, while yet on his knees, and the rest sobbed like children. Mary prayed aloud to God to have mercy on them and take away the dreadful craving for liquor and deliver them from the chains of sin that held them so tight. Mike Hurley said: “Yes, Lord, forgive us our sins, for Jesus’ sake.” Jim Daily, while yet on his knees, prayed to their Heavenly Father for forgiveness and deliverance, asking Mary if she thought He could forgive such a wretch as him. At that Mary sang before they arose from their knees:

“Arise and shine, thy light has come,

The Lord hath made thee free ;

The chains of darkness bind no more.

Go forth in liberty.”

That night, before the men went home, they told Mr. Murphy they didn’t think they would work the next afternoon, as it was Saturday, and they would like to come down to the house and hear Mary read the Bible and sing and pray for them again, for they never felt happier in all their lives than they did now. Each one of them gave Mary some money to buy a Bible for him. As Mary didn’t have to go to school the next day, she and Mrs. Murphy hurried up with the work, and Mr. Murphy slipped down to Billy Ford’s saloon, to ask him if he wouldn’t like to come down to the house awhile in the afternoon, that the gang, as they were called, were going to be there. Ford wondered what all that meant; Murphy himself looking so very respectable and clean, and knowing when the boys didn’t work on Saturday they always spent their time and money at his place, asking Mr. Murphy if they were going to have a christening down there. Mr. Murphy told him as long as he was invited, it was his privilege to come and see for himself. As Mr. Murphy was going out the door. Ford asked him to come and have a drink. He refused for the first time and in a gentlemanly way, which was a great surprise to Ford. He told him he had taken his last drink in that kind of a place, with the help of God, except it be a drink of water. Ford told Mr. Murphy that he would be down by all means, believing it would give him a good chance to get them all back with him again.