by Charles Egan
‘Hold him back again, Murteen.’ Murtybeg jerked him back.
Danny punched Corrigan’s nose and mouth. Corrigan’s head fell forward, blood streaming. Murtybeg grasped him by the hair with one hand, and pulled his head back.
Danny stood back and smashed his right fist up into Corrigan’s chin.
‘Good night, Jimmy,’ he whispered, as Corrigan slumped to the ground, a yellow pool spreading down to his knees.
They turned him onto his back. Danny took out the rock hammer which he had been carrying in the deep pocket inside his overcoat. Murtybeg looked away as Danny smashed both of Corrigan’s knees, twice each for certainty. One by one he smashed his fingers. Then he hammered his elbows, and twisted each back over his own knee.
Corrigan’s fly was still unbuttoned. Danny took a knife from his inner pocket.
‘A surgical one, Murteen. Quicker. Less of a mess too.’
Murtybeg stared at him in horror.
‘No, Danny,’ he screamed. ‘Don’t…for God’s sake, Danny…NO.’
They walked back along the ship where the cotton was being unloaded. No one even looked at them. They stopped at a drawbridge. Danny took out the hammer and the knife, and dropped them over, watching them disappear into the black waters of the Mersey.
‘Where did you learn fighting like that?’ Murtybeg asked.
‘Oh, all along the Great Western. Those Welsh fellows were a rough lot. A man had to be able to protect himself.’
‘Seems like you learnt well.’
‘Luke did too, though he’d never admit it.’
‘And Jimmy’ll never forget it.’
‘Not when he tries to stand, he won’t.’
‘I couldn’t watch.’
‘No, but it was necessary. He’ll never work on the docks again, the bastard. Nor on the rails.’
‘What’ll he do, so?’
‘Beg, if he wants. Who cares?’
Chapter Twenty Eight
The Nation, Dublin, June 1847:
On my way on this day to attend a call, I witnessed a most appalling sight – a dead body thrown one side of a ditch with a child in her arms – and upon enquiring the cause I was told by a bystander that she was found dead in the street this morning from actual starvation.
Rev. John Brennan, parish priest of Killedan.
McKinnon’s burial was rapid. A rough built coffin was used, and within a few hours his corpse was interred in Kilduff graveyard. Even as the clods and clay were being thrown on the coffin, Luke could still smell the gangrene. At least McKinnon had his own coffin and his own grave. In time, he would have a headstone.
Later that morning he walked across to Knockanure. As always, there was a large crowd at the front gate close to the admissions unit. For fear of fever, he went no further. He went around the back of the Union, and was admitted at the back gate. As he walked to the administration building, he saw the corpses being thrown into the pit, and clay shovelled over them. This time he went no nearer. He went straight to Pat’s office.
‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ Pat said.
‘It’s as well you weren’t. It’s no good news I’m bringing. Ian is dead.’
‘Ian! But…’
‘Died last night. Black fever. We buried him this morning.’
‘But I never knew. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘We didn’t want worrying you. There was nothing we could do. We had to bury him fast. Didn’t want to be spreading fever.’
‘You should have warned me. I’d liked to have seen him before he went.’
‘There wasn’t much point, he was only raving. But don’t worry, you’ll be in time for the funeral.’
‘I thought you said…’
‘Yes, we buried him this morning because we had to. But there’s a Mass tomorrow morning, and we’ll all walk to the grave after. Can you make it?’
‘I don’t know. There’s a lot to do here.’
A bell rang.
‘Time to eat,’ Sarah said from the corner. ‘I’m sure you’ll join us.’
Luke followed them down to the small dining room. Voisey was there with another man. ‘It’s good to see you again,’ Voisey said.
‘And you, Mr. Voisey.’
‘I’d like you to meet Cecil Trinder. Cecil is to be our new Master. Just appointed yesterday.’
They sat as one of the inmates started to serve the meal.
Sarah’s mother arrived. ‘Luke Ryan, is it? What brings you here?’
‘I only came over to tell Pat that our uncle had died.’
‘What! Mr. McKinnon? He’s dead?’
‘He is,’ Luke said.
‘But what happened to him? It’s not that long since we saw him last.’
‘Fever,’ Luke said. ‘He died yesterday.’
‘Fever,’ Voisey echoed. ‘God! This damned fever doesn’t spare any of us. I’m truly sorry to hear that. He will be a sore loss to the county.’
Luke started to eat. Even here, even in such a room with schooled people, he could not get away from fever. He glanced at Mrs. Cronin again. Perhaps she had fever, and didn’t know it yet. Perhaps it was in the clothes she was wearing. To hell with it, forget fever.
Pat interrupted his thoughts. ‘I never told you, Ellen Morrisroe, she died yesterday too.’
He looked up in surprise. ‘I thought she was with her cousin.’
‘She thought she was too. But he wouldn’t have her. He drove her off. She was lucky to get into the Workhouse. She wouldn’t have, only she sent a message to me, and I got her in.’
‘A message?’
‘She said she knew you.’
‘Aye,’ Luke said. ‘She did too.’
‘You knew her?’ Voisey asked.
‘Only for a few weeks. She stayed with us for a while after the evictions on the Mountain.’
‘Lord Clanowen’s, was it?’ Voisey asked.
‘That’s right. You knew about it?’
‘By God we did. We’d hundreds of them here, all trying to get in. I don’t know what happened to most of them. We couldn’t even take the half of them.’
‘Clanowen is an evil man,’ Luke said.
‘I shouldn’t comment on that.’
‘No, you shouldn’t,’ Mrs. Cronin said. ‘You don’t talk about the Guardians in front of anyone else.’
They ate in silence for a while. Voisey spoke again.
‘Will there be a service for Mr. McKinnon?’
‘Tomorrow morning,’ Pat answered.
‘You’ll go, surely?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Of course you will. He was your uncle, you must show respect. He will have our prayers too.’
After Luke had left, Pat sat for a long time staring out the window. Sarah came across, and stood beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Arra, it’s fine Sarah. It’s not as if it was Father.’
‘Still, we’ll all miss him. And the county can’t afford to lose surveyors either.’
‘I’ll have to go over.’
‘I know that. And so does Voisey. You must go.’
‘But look at this lot. I haven’t the time. I’ve too much to finish. I’ll just have to work through the night and go over then.’
‘I’d come with you if I could.’
Pat turned around for the first time, and looked at her in surprise. ‘You’d what?’
‘I’d come with you. Only to represent the Union. Your uncle was well known here.’
‘I wonder what your mother would think of that?’
‘Why should she think anything?’
‘I don’t know. It’s just that…’
‘I told her there isn’t anything between us.’
He lo
oked at her startled. ‘You did?’
‘I did. And there isn’t. At least for the next two years, there isn’t.’
‘You shouldn’t say things like that, Sarah. You had me worried.’
‘You’re easy worried. It’s two years’ time you should be worrying. You’ve two years to prove yourself. Voisey has given you the chance. It’s up to you now.’
Pat worked through half the night. Then he took his coat, and left the office. As he walked out, he noticed there was already activity in the dormitories. At the end of the yard, horses were being yoked up to carts, a dozen or more. Another ship’s charter – he had worked on the papers himself only a few days before. Westport or Ballina, he could not remember. In the door leading to the dormitories, a frightened family clung to each other in the cold.
He left the Workhouse by the back gate. He thought at that time there would be no one waiting for admission, but already there were people asleep by the wall.
He walked through a grey dawn towards Carrigard. As he got closer, the sun was rising. He saw men and women he knew working in the fields or walking the road. He called out to them, but they ignored him. Perhaps they were frightened of fever. Or Government men.
He reached Carrigard and went into the house. Eleanor was preparing meal for the hens.
She looked up in surprise. ‘Pat.’ She ran, and threw her arms around him. ‘You must be hungry.’
‘Tired more like. I’ve been working and walking all night.’
‘Well, sit down there and rest.’
He sat at the table. ‘No one up, Mother?’
‘At this time of the morning. I’m only just up myself.’
‘Where’s Luke? Isn’t he up?’
‘He’s down with Sabina, Winnie too. She’s taken it very badly, Sabina has, so they stayed there last night. I just don’t know what’s going to happen. Someone has to run the bar, I suppose. Not that there’s many have money for drink.’
She put the bucket of feed by the back door. ‘So how’s Knockanure?’
‘It’s a bit better than it was a few months back, but they’re still dying at an awful rate. The Master’s dead, they’ve only just got a new one. We’ve had two doctors – both dead. We’ve none now. But we’re hoping it’ll get better. The numbers in the Workhouse keep dropping. The Guardians are hiring boats and sending them all off to America.’
‘I know, we’d heard about that.’
‘It’s the only thing they can do. There’s no room in the Workhouse, they’d only die of fever.’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’ She swung a pot of oatmeal back off the fire. ‘Your father’s not getting any younger.’
‘I know.’
‘He was well able for things before Luke came home from England. Thought he could outwork any of the young lads. But that was then, and he’s not up to it now. I think the quarry knocked it out of him. Pretends he can keep up with the young fellows, but he knows he can’t.’
‘What is he now – he must be sixty four?’
‘Sixty four he is. Who’d have thought it? Young girls never think of things like that. You know, I was so flattered when he started courting me. Only eighteen I was then, and a big strong fellow like him, over twice my age. But you forget, if he’s older than you then, he’ll always be older than you. Good God, where have the years gone.’
‘He’s plenty more years in him yet. All of us lot, we seem to go on forever.’
‘True enough,’ she said, ‘true enough. But to be honest, it’s not that that’s worrying me.’
‘What then?’
Eleanor came over to the table, and sat across from him. ‘I want to tell you something. And you’re to promise not to tell a soul.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I think Luke is going to leave.’
‘Leave? But sure why would he leave?’
‘He hasn’t said anything yet. But I reckon he’s thinking of it.’
‘Where would they go?’
‘America, I think.’
‘America! But how do you know this?’
‘I don’t know it for certain.’
‘But why America? Why not England?’
‘And join Danny, is it? Working men into the ground. No, I reckon he won’t do that.’
‘But why not join Farrelly?’ he asked. ‘Wouldn’t that be the thing to do?’
‘It surely would. It’s what I reckon he will do.’
‘Well then?’
‘Martin’s in America.’
‘He’s what!’ Pat exclaimed.
‘In America.’
‘That can’t be true.’
‘Oh, it’s true right enough. I’ve only just heard it myself from Katie Jordan. Mikey’s gone with Martin.’
‘Mikey too?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does Luke know?’
‘He does.’
‘But…but if Luke goes to America…’
‘The farm will be yours. Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted?’
‘Well, yes, but…’
‘But what?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s wait, and see.’
He thought of telling his mother about his promotion, but decided not to. Thirty five pounds a year, he had been so proud of it, so anxious to tell the family about it. But there was no point in upsetting everyone. No point in saying anything about Sarah either.
A moment later, Michael came into the kitchen. ‘Well, look who’s arrived now,’ he said. ‘We didn’t know if you’d be able to come.’
‘I reckoned I had to come when I heard it.’
But Pat’s mind was not on McKinnon anymore. He looked at his father, wondering if he had he come to the same conclusions as his mother? How long could he continue working the farm like he did? Would Luke go? How long until he himself would be expected to return to Carrigard?
They walked to Kilduff. The church was crowded. Sabina was at the front, a line of women shaking her hands, then hugging her. Luke and Winnie were there already. Michael, Eleanor and Pat sat beside them. The line of women started to move away, and behind Pat people left their pews, and shuffled back. The stigma of the Workhouse still clung to him. The Government man. After the Mass, they went to the graveyard where the priest intoned the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary over McKinnon’s grave. Then they walked back to the bar for a wake without a corpse. It was well past midnight when Pat left again for Knockanure. No-one else had mentioned America or Farrelly.
Two nights later, there was a knock at the door. Luke answered it. Owen Corrigan was standing outside.
‘Owen, by God. What brings you here?’
‘Business.’
Luke thought at once that there was something strange about Corrigan’s manner. He led him inside. Corrigan shook hands with Michael, and nodded to Eleanor.
‘You’re in bad form,’ Luke said.
‘Haven’t I every right to be,’ Corrigan replied.
Luke was puzzled, but on his guard. ‘What’s troubling you?’
‘Jimmy.’
‘Jimmy? What about Jimmy?’
‘You know well what I mean. And don’t pretend you don’t.’
‘I don’t,’ Luke said. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘If you don’t know, you bloody well should. Go and ask your cousins. Ask them what happened to Jimmy.’
‘Who, Danny?’
‘Aye,’ Corrigan said, ‘and his little brother too.’
‘What! Murtybeg?’
‘Murtybeg too.’
Michael stood, and walked to the fire, looking into it. ‘There’s no one here that knows what you’re talking about, but if you would let us know, then we could see what we can do about it.’
Corrigan looked at the three of them. ‘Do you have a
ny drink?’
Eleanor went over the cupboard, took out a bottle, and poured a mug of poitín.
‘Go on,’ Michael said.
‘Yes. Well, we hear Jimmy is in the Workhouse Infirmary in Liverpool. Your two cousins, Luke – they cornered him, and beat him until he screamed for mercy. They did things to him that should never be done to any man. And from all we hear, he’ll never work again.’
Michael sat at the table again.
‘Have you told Aileen and Murty anything of this?’
‘Not yet. I thought I’d tell Luke here first, seeing as we once knew each other.’
‘Well, perhaps you could leave it that way,’ Eleanor said. ‘You know the way Aileen is. If there’s any telling to be done, I’ll do it.’
‘Fair enough,’ Corrigan said. ‘But what are we going to do about Jimmy? I’ll have to get him, isn’t that it? I’ll have to go over to Liverpool, find him, and bring him home.’
Liverpool, Luke was thinking. Maybe I should go to Liverpool too. Forget Mayo, just go, take Winnie with me, and stay there. Yes, go over to Stockport, and have a word with Danny while I’m about it.
Danny?
What kind of animal is he? Is he mad or what?
Oh to hell with all that, there’s better places than Liverpool or Stockport. But where? New York? Philadelphia? Boston? Somewhere.
Anywhere.
The women met a few days after the funeral. Eleanor led Sabina into the kitchen. Kitty was there already. She rose, and hugged her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘It’s good of you to say it,’ Sabina answered. ‘But in one way I’m happy it’s over. It was a terrible few weeks.’
‘It was,’ Kitty said. ‘I’d have come to the funeral, but…well, you know.’
‘Yes, alanna, I understand.’
Brigid ran into the room, and threw her arms around Sabina’s knees. Sabina lifted her into her lap. The child saw the tears in her eyes, and started to cry.
‘There, there, there’s no need for you to cry.’ She hugged the child close into her bosom.
‘So what are you going to do now?’ Eleanor asked.