“Hello Peter, you look a rested man. I’m sorry to say we have to conceal you once again for daytime travel. Under the riding bench is a hollowed out area for you to lie down. Also there is a small concealed opening for air to come through. I truly detest doing so, though we must keep our aims in focus. Speaking of which, here’s your next set of instructions.”
Peter took this sealed envelope, which felt thicker than the previous ones. On reading its contents he noted there would not be full transport to his next destination. Through the second and third paragraphs an explanation was offered. It went as follows.
“Gathering concerns here have meant a change to your current method of travel. This is done in full interest of your personal safety. Tommy will only be taking you as far as the town of Swinford. From there you must continue by foot to a location outside Castlebar.
“As you come closer to the finish, odds of an incident may increase. So it’s best your previous providers know less about your next destination. Here are the signposts to follow after you reach Swinford.”
Peter carefully read the remaining instructions, placing this letter in his jacket when completed. He then looked over to a waiting O’Reilly.
“I greatly appreciate your patience Tommy. Are you prepared to leave as well?”
Tommy nodded in confirmation. “If we leave now you shall be at the next destination in four hours or so. My horses are well rested; good time will be made.”
Peter climbed aboard and went inside the opened compartment. Then Tommy closed the bench, soon afterwards starting his horses. Remembering the contents of his latest instructions, Peter recognized an air of increasing risk to the enterprise.
As time passed, both men remained alert for danger. Fortunately they encountered no hostilities while traveling to Swinford. Inside the carriage, Peter began to mentally prepare for carrying on without aid towards his next safe house.
Four hours into this latest journey, Peter felt their carriage coming off the road and onto a bumpier trail. Inside he careened around for the better part of twenty minutes before coming to a gradual stop. Tommy quickly opened the compartment so Peter could have a taste of fresh air.
When Peter stepped off the carriage he noted how peaceful these new surroundings were. Looking around, he saw they were situated on a river embankment far from nearby inhabitants. Increasingly he was struck by the natural beauty all about.
“Tommy, just where are we?”
“Right before us is the lovely River Moy, which has the best salmon fishing in all of Ireland. It’s a beautiful spot isn’t it? If you look on the other side of this carriage you will see a giant stone marker. That is where I was instructed to leave you today.”
“Tommy, if only I would have a normal life this could easily be my home,” Peter confided in breathless wonder. “Let me say with complete confidence that one could do much worse than living in such an enchanted valley!”
“I certainly agree Peter. By the way, I was meaning to ask you something if I may. Did you have a chance to catch some morning air before I came by today?”
“Far from it Tommy. I was lost in slumber for most of it. Why do you ask?”
“Before I continue, know that Tommy O’Reilly is not a superstitious man. It has always been my belief that one should not base their opinions on folklore or high tales. But last night I had a vivid dream which has not left my thoughts. Let me tell you, I have not remembered a single dream in years!”
For the first time since making his acquaintance, Peter could sense some trepidation in Tommy’s voice. “Go on then, tell me what’s on your mind,” he encouraged.
Tommy hesitated before deciding to continue. “For some reason I feel the need to embarrass myself and tell you all. Well, in that dream I came to a place not unlike where we are now. Damn it; so beautiful, so peaceful, so vibrant and full of color! It was great to walk along and smell the goodness of this earth. I was truly entranced by all the sights about me. Then, as I rounded a bend on the path…” Tommy shuddered on recalling a disturbing moment.
“Tommy, are you okay? Can I help you in any way?”
O’Reilly regained his composure. “My apologies Peter, but I shall be okay to continue. Now, out of nowhere this weathered lady came out of a thick stand of trees! She appeared without any warning. To say the least, I was a touched rattled. Then, striking more fear into my heart, she called me close to her by name!
“In her wrinkled hands she held an old shillelagh made of blackthorn. Surprisingly, her manner was not threatening in the least. So as she willed me forward I could not resist but be drawn nearer. Finally I came full beside her. It was then she used her shillelagh to trace a forked road on the barren ground in front of us.”
At that precise moment Peter felt tingling sensations run throughout his body. He had no reason to justify these feelings, other than a sense of impending revelation from Tommy’s strange account.
“What did she say next Tommy?”
“It was most bizarre. If I remember correctly it went like this. “Two paths meet for one destination. Two paths go on to find one right way. One path was shelter while the other path was hope. Shelter must be given so hope can survive. Two paths must become one for either path to survive. If one path survives hope is fulfilled. For he who came by the sea must survive to leave the way he came.”
“Then I heard her say in a pitiful voice “Goodbye Tommy, rest ye well above.” I looked up from the ground to face her and she had vanished! When I turned back to the ground her shillelagh lay beside two words scrawled in large letters; NEXT NIGHT. I woke up in a cold sweat and could not sleep for the rest of the evening!”
Peter stood rooted to the spot thinking repeatedly about one key phrase from Tommy’s dream. “For he who came by the sea must survive to leave the way he came.” Peter knew Tommy must have made the connection to how he had arrived by sea to Ireland, though chose against highlighting this fact.
“That is some dream Tommy,” he commented instead. “Why do you think it stays on your mind?”
Tommy scratched his forehead in utter puzzlement. “They say my grandmother was a master at premonitions. Apparently my mother said “the sight” was passed down generations through her side of the family. I always regarded it as little more than family lore. I imagine when the time comes it will all be clear if meant to be.
“Sorry to trouble you Peter! There are more important tasks at hand to consider. Before you leave, I wanted to say on our family’s behalf it was an honor to have such a patriot like yourself grace our humble abode. Always know while on your journey there are thousands of fellow countrymen wishing you freedom truly deserved. From the words Grainne’s cousin Aidan spoke, you certainly are the greater part of hope.”
“Remember there’s no one person in a united effort. There would be no mention of Peter Harvey without the Tommy O’Reillys and Aidan Malloys. I take my strength from the friendship of dozens, the compassion of hundreds, and the goodwill of thousands more. That is why I love this country, and it has broken my heart to leave her. Fare you well Tommy; always keep the cause close to your heart and mind.”
Peter extended his arm in friendship. “Tommy, to you and Grainne I owe great thanks for your hospitality. Keep diligent and take care of your family.”
Tommy took his hand and gave a warm handshake. “It was our pleasure to make your acquaintance. Be fleet of foot while sound of mind to reach your peace. And may the wind at your back always be your own.”
He walked towards his waiting carriage and turned back for the return journey to Sligo. As Tommy rode away, he gave Peter a solitary wave before drifting into the far landscape. Peter was now enveloped in nature’s beauty and the solitary life of a wanted man.
Taking out his last letter of instructions, he noted his present location near the town of Swinford. It would be around sixteen miles or so before reaching an appointed s
afe house in a rural area near Castlebar. Providing for his circuitous route, he figured to take approximately six hours to arrive there. Taking one last longing look at a flowing River Moy, Peter began the next phase of his ongoing escape.
Detailed instructions kept his travel to the dense cover of forests and high rough. Stealth was essential for risky daytime travel. Human contact had to be kept to an absolute minimum if it could not be avoided completely.
Negotiating through occasional fields of abandoned small farms reinforced Peter’s faith in the aims of their Common Man Movement. Every ruin he saw signified a family lost to the uncaring whims of a faraway Parliament. As for Dublin Castle, their efforts of administration reflected poorly in the loss of countless Irish through which Eire’s fabric had been established.
Evening’s veil began to draw down on a stark horizon as Peter chased the sun southwest. Over four hours later, he continued to focus solely on his next destination. Such a long distance by foot did begin to take its slow toll. Fortunately, the soothing wonder of his surroundings made him oblivious to minor infirmities.
Peter passed endless vistas of captivating scenes which featured still lakes and native land touched by ancient winds. Moving onwards, he saw lone farm houses in the presence of rising watchful hills alongside solemn brooding mountains. Peter was profoundly moved by every facet of Mayo’s raw natural ambition.
During this part of his escape Peter came in touch with a deep sense of primal freedom. There was a timeless wisdom in all the eye could hold. For Peter, these visions rekindled boyhood memories, smelling familiar essences from his beloved west counties. Here Peter could take solace on ground like he ran as a child.
Onwards he stole across the fringes of open fields, through messy bogs and tangled overgrowth to avoid public appearances. A circuitous journey meant physically demanding challenges over difficult terrain. When on occasion an isolated approach was not possible, he scoured the landscape for any sign of human presence. At all times, regardless of his situation, Peter exercised the strictest of care to avoid unwanted attention.
Grateful were the moments he could tread with soft moss underfoot after battling rock, brambles and thorns. Scents of wafted heather and wood sage teased his nostrils in stirring winds. Here hills and hinterland conspired to invoke precious memories of a time long past and determined to remain so. A hunted man could expect no true comforts, though the plain honesty of these natural elements gave equal wonder to all its visitors.
Approaching his fifth hour, Peter began to labor from his steady pace. Taking each step with burdened breath, wearing body and fatigued mind, he held out desperate hope to soon find his destination. Adding to constant worries was an overriding fear of what lay waiting to greet him in Castlebar.
Throughout this harrowing trek Peter was painfully aware of not having one distinct advantage. Being a Colored man, he could not blend in easily with the general populace. If one was maliciously intent on betraying his whereabouts, it would not be too difficult to spot him. Therefore, if financial benefit were awarded for his capture, this escape had even more obstacles to overcome.
Catching himself lapsing into a realm of anxious doubt once again, Peter recounted the practicalities of this network. In the end, he had no choice but to trust fully in these arranged activities. After all, there were no other options which afforded safe passage away from Ireland.
Making temporary peace with his fears, Peter carried forward cautiously along the prescribed route from Swinford. As nightfall approached, he watched ever more carefully for each signpost that signaled steady progress.
Breathing the crisp air of County Mayo again made Peter realize how much he desired to see his old home. It burdened his conscious to no end being back in the familiar west counties as a wanted man. Regardless, the safety of his very life meant he could not visit those haunts of his spirited youth, especially the Harvey household.
Adding to his list of avoidances would be some of his most cherished remembrances from the Common Man Movement. For instance, there would be no fond reflections while at the site of their first rally, Greenhill Commons. In addition, the scene of their Ballina rally was certainly not to be ventured upon.
How dearly Peter wished to pay an impromptu visit to their dear companion Samuel McGee’s homestead. Yet in light of the circumstances this too was not to be. As these negations and never mores continued to build, Peter used all his mental fortitude to counteract deep seated longings. Fortunately, he could remind himself that they would all rather him be safe from harm than take a foolhardy chance.
While catching a glimpse of his pocket watch, Peter determined it had been about six hours since he left the presence of Tommy O’Reilly. Each minute longer had become a weary struggle to continue or collapse from fatigued exhaustion. Now it was only his strong sense of purpose which willed him forward, as his physical strength slowly sapped away.
Then, as though fervent prayers had been answered, he reached the last signpost indicated by his instructions. Peter suddenly regained a last burst of strength to propel forward. Finally, after ten more minutes, he arrived at the entrance of a sprawling property. Being under cover of isolation, he deemed it safe enough to walk directly to the appointed building. A lone light beckoned him near what appeared to be a small stone cottage.
Steadily gliding forward in thankful appreciation, he looked for a large boulder placed to the right of this cottage’s entrance. Even in the pale of soft moonlight he could readily spot the marker. Lifting it with decreasing strength, he snatched an envelope which was placed underneath.
Eagerly tearing it open, he found a key for the cottage door attached to a simple note. To summarize, the contents praised him for his safe conduct. Inside he would find a small bounty of fresh vegetables and fruits, along with baked goods. A water pump was located at the back of the building for drink and washing. At morning the owner would make his acquaintance. After reading its contents, Peter stuffed the note in his worn jacket and proceeded to enter his refuge.
Inside, Peter observed a cot with fresh sheets along with a large wash basin. On a sturdy large table sat every item of food mentioned in the letter. After so much time spent in adverse conditions, he was extremely grateful for the hospitality.
On satisfying his hunger, Peter ventured outside with the wash basin for some welcome cleansing. Feeling much better, he came back inside to enjoy some needed rest. All of the day’s physical exertion made sleep come very easily.
After some subconscious stirring during the wee hours of night, Peter suddenly came awake. His acute sense of detection heard something which brought him to attention. Was he imagining things in a nighttime stupor? Now wide awake, he listened very carefully. For a moment there was silence, so he prepared for rest once again.
It was at that precise instance when no mistake could be made. A hushed knocking sound at the entrance was clearly audible. Peter became very concerned. Who could be calling at this hour of night?
When the rapping resumed, Peter knew it would not stop. He had to acknowledge the unknown visitor. Upon thinking through the situation, he assumed it would be the property owner arriving to greet him. With that notion in mind he calmed his anxieties and cautiously approached the door.
“Who is calling at this hour?” asked Peter in a decisive tone. “Please identify yourself if you will.”
“Do not worry Peter Harvey,” came back the assuring voice. “My name is Connor Healy. I have traveled at some distance through the night to give you important information. May I please come inside?”
Peter needed further assurances before letting any stranger inside. “What proof do you have of the location for Peter Harvey?”
“I will satisfy you fully Peter. I am in the employ of Aidan Malloy on a large property near Ballyhaunis. You are the dearest friend of his son Duncan, whom you met in a pub one weekend at Queen’s College Galway. You are also the romant
ic interest of his lovely daughter Maggie. She still wants you Peter Harvey, not the memory of you.”
A solitary tear welled in the crease of his right eye. How could he not remember Maggie’s impassioned feelings during his emotional departure? Never would he forget the high price paid for a chance at freedom. Listening again to those intimately spoken words, there could be no doubt Connor Healy was acquainted with the Malloys.
“Connor Healy, I am Peter Harvey. Give me a moment to allow you inside.”
Peter had placed some obstructions against the door to provide additional security. He removed these and unlatched two sturdy bolts before swinging the door open. He was greeted by a kind young gentleman of good height and strong stature.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Peter!” beamed Connor as he extended his hand in friendly greeting. “I only wish we met under more agreeable circumstances. As they often say, no good news arrives in the middle of night.”
Peter took his hand in turn and gave a warm handshake. “Please have a seat with me. Can I offer you some food or drink after riding so long?”
Connor eyed the baked goods spread on the table. “Some biscuits would be nice if I may?”
Peter went to the table, retrieving a few biscuits and an apple. “There you are Connor. And if you need more food just ask. I’ve been given plenty enough. Now tell me what manner of business you are on this evening for Aidan?”
Connor took a few hungry bites of biscuit before responding. “Thank you kindly for this. I’m afraid there have been troubling developments over the last couple of days. As a result, we were very concerned about your personal safety. To see you came this far unharmed will be a great relief to the network.
“Peter, I received word this afternoon about some nasty business in Dublin. Aidan Malloy himself telegraphed a message to me in Ballyhaunis on this urgent matter. It has taken the better part of three hours to reach you here. I will not keep you in suspense any further.”
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