She was eager to show her independence and non-reliance on the Barretts and insisted on being put to work in the fields. Although it was difficult, she was proud to do the work. She took her baby everywhere and worked backbreaking hours in the fields.
In spite of her instance to work in the fields to pay her way in the community, Emily was not popular with many local people and many in the townland resented her for the attention and shelter she had been given by clan leaders. Many people of the Barrett and Welsh clans would have preferred their daughters to marry with Richard and saw Emily’s residence at Ballysakeery as being one step towards marriage with him. Others also believed that for someone who had done such bad things out of wedlock, she did not deserve such a privileged life.
One day, after hoeing crops, she set off for home with Tibbot on her back after saying goodbye to the other workers. They were not too happy to have her company but knew that they would have to tolerate her for the sake of their employment with Richard Barrett. She walked northwards from the fields along her usual route home.
Because she lived at the Ballysakeery Tower house, she had to take the opposite route than the others who lived in Belleek.
Today though, while walking the lonely track, she quickly became aware that she was being followed. Faking checks on her baby with glances from the corner of her eye, she looked behind at regular intervals. There was a male figure with a feathered hat, wearing a brown jacket, pinned in the middle. He also wore dark britches and was walking at a similar pace. His attire indicated that at least at one time, the man was of some means and was not a pauper. As the heartbeat in her chest grew stronger, she kept her pace the same but increased her stride. The man behind matched her steps to his and persisted after her maintaining a constant distance. She soon walked past a small timber and stone cottage and listened as she heard the door close behind her. It seems the man had not been following her but was only walking the same route she was. Perhaps he was trying to catch her up to converse with her or perhaps he was helping her to feel safe in the knowledge that she was not alone. Nevertheless, she was relieved to reach her home that evening and thankful the community she lived in seemed thus far to be safe.
The next day, she returned to the field and continued hoeing where she had finished the evening before. She worked hard all day with Tibbot either firmly lashed to her back or placed near to her in a dry shaded furrow. At dusk, once more, she packed up her things and started on the journey home. Again, as she walked the beaten trail, she became aware of someone following her once more. She looked behind and saw the same figure again, matching her strides. This time though, she had to think about her baby and convinced herself to feel a little easier than she had the night before. Since she was approaching his house, she actually felt secure that he was there and would be gone after entering his home soon. As she walked past the house, she anticipated hearing the door close again, but it did not.
Instead she heard a few footsteps which were much faster. Suddenly, as she turned to look, she felt a hand across her mouth as she was dragged backwards and from behind. Her heart sank, she had her baby on her back and could not see if he was being harmed. As the struggle continued and she tried to break free, the grip moved to her throat which tightened until she submitted to his control. She had managed to pull Tibbot around to her chest for protection but was now being dragged into the house with no control over her movement without dropping Tibbot. By now, while clutching onto the baby, she tried to scream again, but his grasp tightened around her neck. Despite trying to break away and run several times, she was overcome by the man who was significantly stronger.
When they entered the house, he turned her around and shook her as if to instil even greater fear and to bring about a stop to her struggling. She looked directly into the eyes of a thin man with long straight hair and a patchy beard. He had at least three front teeth missing on both jaws and had severe acne amid his heavily ridged skin. The man was ugly and had a look of hatred in his eyes. She saw nothing that would indicate any sign of kindness. This was an evil man. Emily became immediately aware of his odour which was particularly bad. There was a stench of sweat and urine as well as his fowl breath.
The room itself was full of flies and smelled more like a stable than a dwelling place. She was used to these things but all together and in one place, it made her heave.
‘I have seen you before several times walking through the townlands, watching you flick your hair back and walk like a woman who is aware of her beauty. Such a woman needs a man unless she is to be wasted. I know who you are, and I know you and your brat are not a popular with people around here. Would I be right now?’
Emily said nothing for fear of making her condition worse. She did not know this man and was not sure if she would be able to talk herself out of the situation. She quickly assessed his mood and had no doubt his intentions were to have sex with her.
‘I’m going to take you just once to satisfy myself and to have a happy and lustful memory. I will then let you go and do no more.’
‘I would rather die than let you touch me.’
‘But you have been taken by a slave from the Spanish, some say willingly. Surely you are not so choosy miss? You need to know that you are not respected in these parts. I will have you and that will be the end of it. I have considered your position and you will not receive justice if you try to have me punished. I will not be the first to take you in this way, to be sure. I don’t want to be hurting you, so you will lie with me now and do so willingly.’
Emily brushed herself down and checked Tibbot for any injury or distress. She had been lucky that he was a contented child and rarely complained. She answered the man.
‘While there may be times when a woman gives herself to a man for gain or pleasure, I gave myself once and once only to a man and will only ever do that through my will, not yours and no one else’s. You repulse me and there is nothing you can offer me that would attract me to your plan. You smell like the muck in the street, now let us alone.’
He immediately grabbed Tibbot and pulled him from her arms. She screamed and struggled to keep hold of the infant. The man raised his knee and kicked her away. If she had not let go of her child, Tibbot would have been injured. He threw Tibbot against the wall and fortunately he landed on a pile of filthy straw bedding in the corner.
‘Your chit can stay there until our business is over.’
Tibbot was unharmed but started to cry, sensing the stress as well as the force of being thrown against the wall. Emily didn’t have the baby with her and Tibbot’s cries stirred her emotions even more. She was now free to fight the man as best she could. In an attempt to stun him, flying at speed towards her attacker she scratched his face. He pushed her to the ground and she fell back, landing with full force on the wooden floor. She was winded for a few moments and looked across at her baby. Her attacker’s strength was too much for her. He used his body weight to further subdue her. After striking her head several times to ensure her submission, she became weak and faint with the pain. He sickeningly stroked her lips with his tongue and spoke to her softly.
‘That is better, do not struggle, Emily, I need this so badly, but it will soon be over for ya. Give yourself to Patrick and I will hurt you no more as long as you yield.’
He pulled up her skirts ripping them in frenzy. Placing his hand inside his trews he pushed her legs aside with his leather clan feet and positioned himself on her. He bit her neck hard and violently. She gagged at the stench and pain while trying to turn her head away from him. Pulling her hair to turn her head back around, he kissed her once more. The awful stench of his breath made her want to vomit. She realised that it would not be welcomed and he would most probably retaliate with more abuse. He continued to molest her and touch her crudely while she winced and struggled to get free. As she refused his kisses, he decided to move his head towards her groin. She screamed and pushed his head away. He lost all patience and decided to adopt his previous posit
ion.
As he penetrated and thrust himself violently into her, he held her buttock in his right hand as she howled in fear, disgust and grief; it was terrifyingly sickening.
‘Your callow body does not disappoint me, you are a beautiful woman. Argh that is so good, you are a good woman, there’s no mistake.’
The rape and his gratification was over quickly as he pushed forward for the final time and called out in pleasure, but her ordeal was to continue. Once she got her breath back, she screamed again at the top of her voice. There was no one to hear her cries and she knew that she needed to get Tibbot away safely.
‘You bastard, I will make you pay for this if I die doing so.’ She trembled as she pulled her torn clothes back onto her body.
‘You will not say a word, bitch, you are not of value in these parts. If you cause any trouble in this townland, you will meet with nothing but anger.’
Something inside her agreed with him. If she reported the rape, how would a woman with her reputation get justice through the Brehons and the interpretation of the law? In these townlands, the respected ones received justice from the clan, not the downcast, and certainly not without council. She held back her emotions and turned her bruised head. Her attacker was looking down at the result of his act and smiled as he looked at her parted legs and her womanhood. It gave him a twisted sense of pride to look at his conquest. The woman he had destroyed was now a devastated ruin, shaking with fear and disgust. His arousal was not over and she knew it wouldn’t be. He wanted more, and this would not be the last time she was sure.
Oh God, help me you, do not punish me any longer, please make him stop, she thought in silent prayer.
He had a thought and considered changing his plan. In the absence of family and friends, maybe he could make her his whore.
‘You will stay here for a short time, and I will have you once more before I let you go. After that, I will need you to call on me again whenever you pass this house and whenever I instruct you.’
He looked down again at her beautiful body. Her perfect skin was now bruised, reddened and her clothes torn. She closed her eyes and looked away in disgust. The room still smelled of her attacker and the familiar odour of smoke and excrement.
I have worked in pigs’ stys that didn’t reek as much, she thought as she looked back at him with venomous eyes.
Apart from a check of Tibbot, this was the first time she was able to consider her surroundings. As well as the unlit fire of fresh turf laid on top of old in the hearth, the room was dark, the stonewalls blackened with soot. The house was simple with only an opening for a chimney which meant that much of the smoke would fill the room. The floor was laid with flat stone and appeared to have had the touch of a woman at some time in the past. There were old rotten curtains, and even a vase of desiccated flowers standing on the sill of the window. On a crude wooden table was placed lamp, which provided a perpetual flicker.
The man walked back towards her and prepared himself for further gratification. As he pushed her shoulders back, Emily looked across at Tibbot, who was crying. To her right, she noticed an ash spade propped against the hearth. The steel was crude and thick and would inflict a heavy wound if it could be wielded with a great enough force. She was not sure if while on her back she could swing it, but it was a chance she had to take. She must wait until the moment when he was unable to stop her and his hands were busy preparing his assault. Then came her chance. As he looked down and between her legs again, he used an arm to prop himself up, while touching her with the other. She opened her legs a little more to keep his gaze and interest before reaching out to snatch the spade. Almost in a trance, he didn’t notice what she was doing as he held his penis with anticipation. She pulled the spade, scraping it against the floor just as he looked up.
‘No, you bitch…’
It was too late and pausing slightly to check her grip, she swung it with all her strength, using her hips to give her every extra ounce of force that she needed. The spade struck him above the left ear and the iron corner sunk into his skull with a loud, but dull crack. He cried out in pain as his eyes rolled up into his head. At first she could not believe what she had done, but after considering her ordeal, there was no uncertainty. She had cracked open his skull as if it were an egg and he quickly lost consciousness. The advantage was now hers. He collapsed on Emily as blood pulsed onto her. She pushed as hard as she could and eventually broke free from the vile man. He was still alive and murmuring as she stood over him with each foot just clear of his hips. Tibbot was too young to notice, but she positioned herself to conceal the view anyway. She did not want the baby to see her next act of revenge. She held the spade with both hands and swung it backwards. It hit a wooden beam as she swung it back over her head. Stepping forward slightly to allow the spade to go back further, she thrust it once more into his head with all the energy that she could muster. As his brains oozed over the floor, she knew her attacker was no more. Emily had killed a Barrett.
She moved Tibbot from the bed he had been thrown over and dragged her attacker onto it, to make it look like he had been sleeping. She then poured animal fat and grease from pots, onto the floor. After placing rags, clothes and straw on the floor, she took the lamp and set light to anything she could, including her attacker’s bed and body. Soon everything that could burn was alight. The inside was burning unstoppably as flames licked up walls and curtains. Picking up Tibbot, she left the house hurriedly. Emily ran up the road carrying her son tightly in her arms. She was in tears, her clothes ripped and drenched in blood. She cleared her throat and tried all she could to think of anything other than what had just happened to her.
Gradually, as she became more exhausted, she needed to slow down to gain some composure. It was now dark and as she looked back, she could see the sky lit up with the orange glow and rising embers from the fiery cottage. She needed to leave the area as quickly as possible as the flames would soon be attracting attention from the townlands. Anyone seeing her would wonder why she was walking in the opposite direction. Just down the road was a cross road, where if she turned right, it would not appear as suspicious.
Emily breathed a sigh of relief when she turned the corner. It did not last long as she turned she passed a large man limping who was travelling in the opposite direction towards the fire who had obviously noticed which lane she had emerged from. It was clear that she had come from the direction of the fire. The man glanced at Emily and started to raise his hat before giving her a puzzled look. He had noticed the excessive blood on her clothing as well as the smoke billowing in the direction from which she came.
‘You appear distressed madam; may I be of help to you?’
Emily did not reply, her distress was all-encompassing; she could not speak even if she had wanted to. She tried to cover up her face and blood-spattered clothing as she passed him as quickly as possible, but the blood and her evident distress was something she could not hide.
It was not long before the man was at the burning cottage. The flames and smoke were intense and there was very little he could do. He raised the alarm at another cottage, but soon, other villagers started to appear at the old house. Villagers all came with leather buckets and ladles. The stream was used to fill them and in a hopeless attempt to quell the fire, the crowd took in turns to try dousing the flames. The fire would not relent until the house had become a smouldering shell. Several hours later, when it was cool enough to check, it became apparent that there was a body inside the building covered in turf and charred timbers from the roof.
Such lethal fires were not uncommon and it was assumed that either a spark from the fire had caused the blaze or a lamp had been knocked while the man was asleep. Either way, for now there was no suspicion of a third party, let alone Emily’s involvement in the incident. It was announced at the village square the next day that the dead man was probably the local character known as “Toothless Patrick”, the 48-year-old ex-clan elder who had lived in the cottage alone since the dea
th of his wife many years earlier. Identification of the body had been relatively simple, through a cursory examination of the upper and lower mandible, which revealed the characteristic deficiency of teeth and the identity of the body. The head fractures were attributed to falling beams during the fire. The fire had exposed a shallow cellar. Patrick’s remains were placed in there before the collapsed roof and ashes were levelled. A stick cross was made with two branches and a leather rope. It was placed at the head of the grave before a small Catholic service was made.
Patrick had a nobler past as warrior in his younger years and had served the Barrett clan well. He had taken part in many skirmishes with other clans and some rebel clashes with the English many years earlier. He had led men under the earls and had been a venerated leader. However, in his later years, he was known to be brash and arrogant. He was not well respected amongst the community, resulting in the eventual loss of vote as a clan elder. He could be a violent bully especially when intoxicated, but he was also a brute and rumoured to have raped other women. At times, women had made accusations but nothing had been proven and he had escaped any redress. For the majority of people, he had been liked and tolerated but nothing had yet been proven, hence his boldness with Emily. The majority of his victims though had so far remained silent, for fear of retribution, distrust and disgust from their relatives and husbands.
She had no regrets and from that day and vowed that she would be better prepared if there was ever a “next time”. No one would ever attack her or her baby in this way again.
The bullying and harassment of Emily continued and was an almost unbearable burden at times when she needed friendship and understanding. She gradually hardened and became a vehement protector of her son. As long as Tibbot was in a safe place, she would fight anyone to defend herself and her son from further attacks by any man or woman.
She had killed a rapist, who although not fully respected was still a man who had served the Barretts as a warrior and elder in his earlier years. She had not been in Ballysakeery long and feared that if she told the truth about her attacker, she would be treated with ruthless injustice. Irish Law required the family of the victim to decide on the fate of the attacker, and the measures that would be considered sufficient payment for the crime. If through the arbitration process, the Brehon declared her guilty, then Patrick’s immediate family would choose her fate. Death sentences were rarely given, since the family would often choose to take the land and belongings of the perpetrator, rather than to exact revenge and decide on execution. Once the family had come to terms with the crime, taking the assets from the offenders was often the preferred sentence. Emily’s situation was not well suited with this approach. She had no wealth or income of her own and the burden would be refused by the Bourkes as they had disowned her. Emily was under no illusion that the Bourkes would fail to give land on her behalf. For a declaration of murder though, her misdeed would eventually attract sentence of death if she were not believed. Emily was no coward, but her only instinct had ever been to protect her son. The outlook for her and Tibbot would be grim if her deeds became known. There were few options, she had to conceal the event to avoid reprisal or suspicion through different accounts of the death emerging.
The Welshmen of Tyrawley Page 17