by Charles Egan
‘There’s no need to be sorry anymore. The wedding is going ahead.’
‘Going ahead!’
‘Yes, going ahead.’
‘But, but…why the devil didn’t you tell me?’
‘I wasn’t thinking of it just now.’
‘God, but you’re the queer one. But how…’
‘Father Nugent, the priest up in Brockagh, he wrote to the bishop in Achonry. Got an Episcopal Dispensation.’
‘Now what in hell is that?’
‘It just means that the bishop can allow second cousins to marry if he wants to.’
Pat stared at him, still unbelieving. ‘You mean…?’
‘Yes, it’s going ahead in two days’ time. We’re not taking any chances this time. We can’t let Fergus wreck things again. By the time he hears about it, it’ll be too late for him, the bastard.’
‘And what about Mother and Father?’
‘I wrote to them, but I doubt they’ll know yet.’
‘Then they won’t be able to come.’
‘They weren’t able to come the last time, and we can’t wait. You’ll have to explain it all to them after.’
‘Oh, thanks!’
‘After all, you’re the only one in the family who’s going to be there.’
‘I’ll try my damnedest. Though with the amount of work going on here, I don’t know.’
‘Well, I hope you can. There won’t be anyone else from Carrigard, that’s for sure.’
‘Fine so,’ Pat said. ‘But tell me about Winnie. Is she better than Kitty?’
‘I’ll kill you for that.’
‘Only teasing. Go on.’
‘Yes, well, she’s the Gallaghers’ daughter.’
‘They’re the people you’re staying with in Brockagh?’
‘That’s right. She was the first of them I met. She opened the door when I knocked on it. I fell for her straight away.’
‘Arra, go on out of that!’
‘No, it’s true,’ Luke said. ‘I never believed in that kind of thing myself. But it happened, it did happen. Still, it took an awful long time to come together. And it wasn’t just that business about second cousins, we didn’t know about that then. Her father didn’t like me. He was a proud man, didn’t like working under a younger man like myself. It took a long time for him to come around and get to like me. I only asked him months later, when I was sure of his answer. He said yes at once.’
‘But Winnie! What’s she like?’
‘There’s only one way to find out. Come to Brockagh and see.’
‘I don’t know. We’ll see.’
They turned back to the accounts and worksheets. They worked a while, then Luke leant back, restless.
‘Do you think I’m mad?’ he asked.
‘Why would I think that?’
‘It’s just seeing all that’s happening, all that’s going on around us. Sometimes I reckon it wrong to get married at a time like this.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Pat said. ‘Life goes on, and we have to keep going with it. Isn’t that the way of it?’
Luke shook his head. The door opened before he could reply.
‘Come on, you two,’ Sarah shouted at them. ‘Time for dinner, you’re holding everyone up.’
She closed the door. Luke put his pen down, and stood.
‘I’ve told you about Winnie. Now you tell me about Sarah.’
Pat looked at him in surprise. ‘Now why would you ask me a question like that? Why would you think I’d know more about her than anyone else?’ He made for the door, avoiding Luke’s eyes.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Luke said, ‘I just thought you might.’ He followed his brother to the dining room, wondering.
The next morning, he spoke to Voisey and McKinnon. Then McKinnon left for Kilduff and Castlebar, and Luke started back towards Brockagh.
He thought back on the last few days. So much had happened, it was almost impossible to take it all in. Thin men and women working at Lisnadee, starving and feverish. The Workhouse.
A killing engine?
The countryside was quiet. He rode past starving people at the edge of the road. He could not get the vision of the pit out of his mind. Corpses, dozens of them, the eyeless children. Rats. He thought about Winnie, trying to escape from the nightmare.
The night before the wedding, the Gallagher family were sitting around the table, as Mrs. Gallagher and Winnie finished the cooking.
‘You’re looking awful gloomy there, Luke,’ Mrs. Gallagher said. ‘You’ve got the look of a condemned man.’
‘Dead right too,’ Gallagher said. ‘Just wait till Winnie gets her clutches into him.’
Winnie gave her father a slap on the back of the head. Gallagher laughed. ‘There you are. Assault and battery. Now you know what’s coming!’
Luke smiled. Winnie held her hand over him. ‘And don’t you say a word, husband-to-be, or you’ll get the same!’
‘Would I dare?’
‘But why so gloomy?’ Mrs. Gallagher asked. ‘Is it the hunger?’
‘No, it’s nothing. I’m very happy. It’s just I don’t look that way.’
‘God help us, I wouldn’t like to see you when you’re sad.’
She put a plate out in front of him. ‘I know what’s wrong with you. You’re thinking it’s wrong to be happy at a time like this. Isn’t that it?’
‘That’s right, Una,’ he said. ‘How could anyone be happy, the times that are in it?’
‘Well, let me tell you something. You’re wrong. It’s at times like this we need to have people marrying. All the fever and hunger this past year – we’ve taken a terrible beating. People are giving up – dying or leaving. If we don’t have young people like you marrying and rearing families, Mayo is finished.’
Luke said nothing. He looked across the table towards Winnie.
‘We’re thinking of America, Ma,’ she whispered.
‘America?’
‘Did I hear you right?’ asked Gallagher. ‘You’re thinking of America.’
‘But I told you.’
‘You said about going, but you never said about America. Not for certain.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Luke said. ‘We should have said it earlier. We haven’t decided yet though. We’re only thinking of it.’
‘What would you want going to America for? Isn’t England closer?’ Gallagher asked.
‘That’s as may be, but America is where the best chances are. ‘
‘But where would you go?’
‘I don’t rightly know yet. The fellows back home go to Philadelphia. New York too, it’s said to be a good town. No end of work for a man who wants it.’
‘What would you do there?’
‘I don’t know yet. They say there’s work on the docks loading boats. Building railways too, and God knows, I’m used to that.’
‘But why would you want to go at all?’ asked Mrs. Gallagher. ‘Surely it’s not hunger that’s driving you.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Luke said. ‘I told Winnie already, it’s the Works. It’s turned people against me, in Carrigard as well as here. John knows what I mean.’
‘I know right enough,’ Gallagher said. ‘But the bad times will pass. Come Christmas, we’ll all see things different.’
‘Maybe we will,’ Luke said.
‘And don’t you have Carrigard,’ Mrs. Gallagher said. ‘Isn’t the farm going to be yours? What would your mother and father do if you left?’
‘They’ve still got Pat. He’ll take it if I don’t. If I take it, he’s the one who’ll have to go.’
‘Would you not give it a try though? God knows, Carrigard is a lot nearer than America.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Luke said.
‘No,’ Winnie said. ‘We’ll think about it.
There’s two of us now.’
There was a knock on the door. Winnie went to answer it. She came back with the caller.
‘A Mr. Pat Ryan, looking for his brother!’
Gallagher stood up. ‘So this is Pat,’ he said, ‘and we just talking about you. By God, we never expected you here tonight. You’re most welcome.’
‘Aye,’ Pat said, ‘and I never expected to be here either.’ Luke, still sitting, was smiling. Pat walked over to the table, looking into Luke’s eyes.
‘Aren’t you the cute one?’
‘Who, me?’
‘That was a smart move, getting Ian to talk to Voisey for you.’
‘Yes…well…I reckoned Ian would be more persuasive than me or you.’
‘Damned right he was. Voisey told me I had a Christian duty to be at my brother’s wedding. Not that I could go, mind you. That I had to go.’
‘Well, wasn’t he right.’
‘Arra, hell…’
Gallagher stood up. ‘Would you stop arguing the pair of you. Come on there, let’s get your horse settled for the night.’
‘Horse!’ Pat said, nearly shouting. ‘What horse?’
‘You mean you walked?’ Mrs. Gallagher said.
‘Walked’ is right. All the damned way, every single mile of it.’
Luke laughed. ‘Isn’t it good for you, doing a bit of walking for a change. Now quit whinging, and say hello to your new sister-in-law.’
The next morning, he walked over to the priest-house. ‘I nearly forgot, Father, I’m going to need confession.’
‘Again?’
‘Yes, Father. There’s something I forgot to tell you before.’
‘Kneel here, and tell me.’
He knelt.
‘I attacked a man. Destroyed his business.’
‘We won’t worry about that. Any others?’
‘Yes, Father.’ He hesitated, and said nothing.
‘Sins of the flesh?’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘Christ admonishes us against sins of the flesh. You know that.’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘But that’s perfection, and nobody’s perfect.’ He raised his hand and made the sign of the cross. ‘I absolve thee in the name of the Lord.’
‘What penance, Father.’
‘What penance! Haven’t you done enough penance these months past?’
Luke rose from his knees.
‘There’s something else I wanted to mention, Father.’
‘Not another sin surely.’
‘Worse than that. They’re closing the Works.’
‘They’re what!’
‘Yes, they’re replacing them with Soup Kitchens, but I’m afraid they’re not going to do it fast enough. I have my orders. The Works close on Saturday fortnight. Morton says so, and there’s no way Morton will ever go back on a decision.’
The priest shook his head. ‘What does John Gallagher think?’
‘I haven’t told him yet. I haven’t told anyone.’
The priest was staring into the fire. ‘Let’s leave it that way. Today is a day to celebrate. We’ll worry about it all tomorrow.’
That afternoon, Luke Ryan and Winifred Gallagher were married by Father Nugent in the little church in Brockagh. A few of the Gallaghers’ relatives attended and only one of the Ryans. After the ceremony, they returned to Gallagher’s for a few drinks. It was a quiet affair.
Luke and Winnie left early, and walked back to the old cottage. For many years, Winnie thought of that night as one of the most ecstatic of her life.
It was followed by one of the most terrible.
Chapter Twenty Two
Telegraph or Connaught Ranger, February 1847:
Another wretched woman died in Stabball last week, and for want of a coffin she lay on the damp floor of a hut for some days. A plate was laid on her face to keep the soot drops from it. In Gallowshill, another poor woman died from want. She remained from Sunday morning until Wednesday evening unburied for want of a coffin, which was at length procured by the subscriptions of a few individuals. Last week, a female mendicant died at Coursepark, near Rathbane, in a house where she got shelter for the night. All efforts to procure a coffin for her proved fruitless, and a few days after her decease, far gone in decomposition, the body was tied on some wattles, tied with hay ropes, and in this horrible state was borne through the streets of our town to the old churchyard for interment.
They lay together, bare legs touching, her head cradled on his shoulder. During the night, he had thrown some more turf on the fire, and the house was warm. The old bed had been well dried. Two of Mrs. Gallagher’s blankets covered them.
‘Your mother was right,’ he said. ‘This was the right time to marry. If we gave up now, we’d be finished. Besides, I think I’d go mad. Sometimes I think I’m halfway there already. You really are all I’ve got.’
‘Don’t be silly. Think of your own family. Pat worships you, he told me so. Young John too. And as for Ma!’
‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘But tell me, what do you think about America now?’
‘I’d put it out of my mind for now. We should see how the next few months turn out. Wait till harvest maybe.’
‘Yes, I think you’re right. We’ll see how it all turns out.’
He watched the shadows and the play of light from the fire on the rafters. He turned to face her, kissing her forehead and stroking the side of her cheek.
‘Yesterday was the greatest day of my life.’
‘Mine too,’ she said.
‘I didn’t want to spoil it with talk of Relief, but I’ve an awful lot of work to do today, and I have to do it.’
‘I understand.’
‘No you don’t. There’s one thing I haven’t told you. They’re closing the Works. Now.’
‘Oh God…But they can’t.’
‘They can though. They’re going to run them down, and start Soup Kitchens.’
‘But – when? When?’
‘God knows. That’ll be part of my job now. I have to close the Works, and start the Kitchens running. But Morton wants all the Works shut on Saturday fortnight, no argument. Voisey’s doing his best to get corn to Brockagh as soon as he can, but it’ll be well after we close the Works.’
Winnie turned her face away, trying to hold back the tears.
‘This is a great start to our marriage.’
‘Isn’t it. But remember what you said. Courage.’
They dressed and walked to Gallagher’s, Luke leading his horse. Pat had slept at Gallaghers’ and was preparing to leave. He winked at Luke when he saw him. Luke playfully tried to hit him, but Pat stepped back, laughing. But Luke was no longer in the mood for horseplay.
When Pat had left, Young John was sent to fetch the priest. When he arrived, the three men discussed the situation. Father Nugent had already decided to ride up to Burrenabawn and Teenashilla, asking his way to those dying or dead.
Luke thought of asking the priest to make the announcements about the ending of the Works, but then he decided it would be unfair. He did ask him though to take note of all the workers who would not be returning. He suspected it would be a large number.
Then another problem arose. It was Gallagher who brought it up. ‘We can’t just leave all the Works unfinished.’
‘I know,’ Luke said. ‘There’s months of work on every site. There’s no way on God’s earth we could finish them all that fast.’
‘So what can we do?’ the priest asked.
‘I’ve been thinking about that’ Luke said. ‘Ardnagrena – that’s where we’ll start. We’ll close it over the next few days…’
‘But we can’t do that. There’s weeks of work left.’
‘There is,’ Luke said, ‘but the base of the road is laid. We can finish off the ha
rd-core – that’ll only take a few days. It will leave a damned rough top for anyone walking or riding on it, but it’ll have to do. And if the road is there, then sometime they’ll put a proper top on it.’
‘Will they?’
‘They will, because they’ll have to,’ Luke said. ‘It mightn’t be soon, but it will be done. Lisnadee – that’s the one we must do, and we’ve got to do it right too. The fellows on the Sligo side are near finished. Once we’re done, there’ll be a direct road from this part of Mayo, straight through to Sligo Town.’
‘So ye’d use the workers from Ardnagrena?’
‘We’d have to,’ Luke said.
‘But to bring them all the way up to Lisnadee – it’s a long way for them.’
‘I know.’
‘And it’s worse than that,’ Gallagher said. ‘Even with the extra gangs, it won’t be enough. We still couldn’t reach the Sligo side in time.’
‘I know that too,’ Luke said. ‘So the next question is Burrenabawn and Teenashilla.’
‘What are ye saying?’ the priest asked. ‘Ye’d abandon them? Is that it?’
‘It’s the only way, Father,’ Luke said. ‘I’ve been going through all the figures. We’ll need all the workers at Lisnadee. There’s no other way we’ll finish it in time.’
‘And anyhow, the Works above are only started,’ Gallagher said. ‘There’s not much to abandon.’
‘But what about the Union?’ the priest asked. ‘What will Morton say?’
‘Morton can go to hell,’ Luke answered. ‘If he doesn’t agree with it, he can finish Lisnadee on his own. We’ll give the bastard a pick and a shovel, and see how he likes it.’
‘But…’
‘Don’t worry about it, Father,’ Gallagher said. ‘They’ll see the sense of it.’
‘And anyhow, we’ll have Voisey on our side,’ Luke said. ‘Davitt and McKinnon too.’
‘But to just abandon two roads…’
‘What else can we do?’ Luke asked. ‘We’ve few enough to finish any road in the time we’ve left.’
Afterwards he and Gallagher rode over to Ardnagrena.
The announcement that the Works were to be terminated caused panic. Luke’s reference to the Soup Kitchens did little to allay it. Within a few seconds, he and Gallagher were being jostled by a crowd of angry men and women, pulling at them, pushing them, shouting at them.