‘I am sorry, Rachael, I will leave now,’ he said, trying to forestall any more upset.
‘There is no need for that, Josiah. As I said once before I would feel much safer with you here and that confidence extends to Mr O’Carroll as well.’ She looked nervous, even afraid.
‘Has something happened while we were away, lass?’ asked Michael.
‘Only that I have remembered something that frightens me. Come in and I will explain.’
When they were in the kitchen, and she had got Michael and Josiah some food, she sat down to talk as they ate.’
‘Josiah you once asked me if Elijah had any enemies. I said no but this morning a face reminded me of an incident that I had quite forgotten. It could be interpreted as showing that Elijah did have an enemy, an enemy who once visited Long Clough.
Michael stirred in his seat and Josiah, despite his tiredness became immediately attentive. ‘What happened?’
‘It was twelve years ago. I was ten and Farmer Tremlet was still alive. One day, a day at about this time of year, I was out in the garden playing when a man and a boy came down the path. There was nothing unusual in that nor that they stopped and asked for some water, just as you did yourself Josiah. What was unusual was that the man was blind. I think he was the first blind man I had ever seen, unlikely as that seems.
‘I got them a drink and they sat a while and talked. The boy was his son and his guide. He must have been about fifteen. He was a very quiet, attractive boy with intelligent watchful eyes. Josiah who is Phelan Hayes?’
‘He is a guest of Mr Hailsworth’s. A painter by occupation taking sketches of the Pennines. I met him at dinner the other evening.’
‘Where does he come from?’
‘The north of Ireland.’
‘The blind man and the boy came from Ireland. They said they were looking for a friend of theirs who they thought might be in the area. They said his name was Fitzgerald. I said I knew no one of that name. They drank their water and went on their way. As I watched them go, Elijah appeared round the corner of the house. Looking back he might have been hiding, watching them without being seen. He was frightened. He asked me what they had wanted and I said they were looking for someone called Fitzgerald.
‘Before supper that evening Farmer Tremlet came to me and said that he had sent Elijah to Manchester on some urgent business. He would be back in a couple of days but his housekeeper would look me after while Elijah was away. In a few days Elijah came back and I forgot all about the incident until this morning.’
‘Until you saw Phelan?’ said Josiah, remembering how distracted she had been while he had tried to apologise and leave Long Clough.
‘Yes. Phelan Hayes was the boy who led the blind man. When he came through the door into the courtyard I knew I had seen him before but it took a bit of time to remember exactly when.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Josiah.
‘Absolutely,’ said Rachael. ‘It was the only time I ever remember thinking Elijah was frightened by anything.’
‘Now there’s a coincidence,’ said Michael. He had made himself comfortable as Rachael had spoken, and got his pipe lit.
‘What do you two know about the history of Ireland?’
‘I am ashamed to say very little,’ said Josiah.
‘The same applies to me,’ added Rachael.
‘You’re not alone in that and at least you two have the excuse that for some of the more important parts of the story you hadn’t been born. Though I’m slightly disappointed such well-read youngsters as you two don’t know more. I’m beginning to think that what is going on in this valley is mixed up with that story. Let’s start with the tattoo that Elijah and I shared.’
Josiah interrupted. ‘Rachael, it turns out that Michael has the same tattoo on his arm that I found on Elijah.’
‘Oh how strange,’ she said, immediately following with a flash of girlish curiosity that made Josiah remember why he was so much in love with her. ‘Can I see it, Michael?’
Michael rolled up his shirtsleeve and showed her it to her. ‘It is the symbol of the Society of United Irishman. I have it on my arm because I was a member. Elijah must have been a member as well.’
‘Didn’t the United Irishmen lead a rebellion against the British government about forty years ago?’ she said.
‘Yes and five years after that as well. Rachael, how old was Elijah?’
‘Mid-sixties I think but he was as vague about his age as he was with all the other details of his life.’
Michael took a long draw on his pipe. ‘They were the best of times in many ways. We looked at what was happening in the American colonies how they had stood up against the parliament across the sea for their right to rule themselves and we thought it was time to do it in Ireland. It was going to be for all Irish people, Protestants and Catholics standing together. The Society was formed to do it and they bridged the tensions between the communities that had been there, well, for centuries. It was a time of hope.’ He smiled to himself and took another draw on his pipe.
‘It was all about persuasion at first, political action, persuading that parliament to give us home rule. But when that failed the Society led an armed revolt, as had the colonists in the Americas. Elijah would probably have been twenty or so then, just the right to rally to the cause. I was seventeen when I took part in the second revolt. Both were failures and the Society was destroyed.’
Josiah did a quick piece of mental arithmetic. ‘Had you and Mary fled from Ireland when I met you as a boy?’
‘Yes, lad, we’d been here about two years. Along with a great many others I was a very angry man after the revolt failed. At least I was until I met my Mary. She showed me how ridiculous and stupid it all was, the hate, not the ideals. But I was a wanted man so we came and hid ourselves in England.
‘After both revolts the grief of the failure expressed itself in sectarian hatred breaking out again. Groups of Catholics attacked Protestants, Protestants attacked Catholics, especially in country districts.’
‘So is that why Irish politics now seem so clearly divided with Catholics wanting freedom from British rule and Protestants supporting the Parliament in Dublin?’ asked Rachael.
‘Yes that and the since the first revolt British governments have worked hard to enhance those divisions. Have you two never heard of the principle of divide and rule? One of the ways it has been done is by using the Irish romantic love of secret societies and clandestine signs of allegiance. Elijah and I had our tattoos but I saw an exclusively protestant secret sign on the lapel of a young man here this morning, just out there by the pump.’
‘You mean Phelan’s orange flower, don’t you?’ said Josiah.
‘A sign of membership of one Protestant society of hatred or another. It is an uncommon one in that it is so obvious it doesn’t get used much outside staunchly Protestant areas. Where do the Hayes come from?’
‘Donegal,’ said Josiah.
‘A mixed area with Protestants and Catholics, but there are still places where it would be safe to wear the “orange lily” as Phelan does.’
Michael’s hand began to shake, his voice became emotional. ‘People like Phelan Hayes call people like me Croppies because they reckon we cut our hair short. As it says in one of their favourite songs they will put their feet on our necks to ensure us Croppies lie down and never get our freedom!’
Josiah shivered. He remembered the bruising on Elijah’s throat which he thought had been caused by a boot stamping on the neck. ‘Easy Michael,’ he said. ‘Protestants Rachael and I might be but we are your friends. You’ll never be a Croppie in our eyes.’
‘Thank you lad. I can’t help but remember the insults I had when I was young but I also get angry at how easy it’s been for a few to stir up hatred among my people.’ He calmed himself with another draw on that favourite old pipe of his.
&
nbsp; ‘I can take Rachael’s story on a bit further and confirm her identification of Phelan as the boy,’ said Josiah. ‘Aideen Hayes told me that her father was blind. He was the only man who could woo her mother because she had been disfigured in a terrible fire in the family home in Donegal. Aideen was five or so when her mother killed herself because she had never come to terms with her disfigurement.’
Rachael was frowning in concentration. ‘Phelan and his father were looking for someone called Fitzgerald when they visited Long Clough. If Elijah was Fitzgerald could he have had something to do with the original fire Michael?’
‘It’s possible. Resistance by some rebel groups went on for years. Those groups committed some gruesome atrocities. They were particularly fond of setting houses on fire in the night as a way of murdering the occupants.’
‘Aideen said it was a fire set at night or at least in the early morning that maimed her mother,’ said Josiah.
‘That sounds right,’ said Michael. ‘Fitzgerald’s a Catholic name. Some of the Catholic groups learned that tactic from loyalist groups who called themselves Peek o’ Day Boys. If Elijah went on fighting after the first revolt then he could have joined one of those catholic groups. He could easily have got his wounds during skirmishes with soldiers then, even if he didn’t get them at the time of the revolt. If Elijah had anything to do with the fire that scarred Aideen’s mother then Phelan and his father had a very good motive to search for him.’
‘And for killing him in revenge,’ added Josiah.
‘Remorse for the fire also gives an explanation why Elijah became the wreck of a man who rescued me in Liverpool,’ said Rachael. They were silent as they thought through these speculations.
Josiah was the first to speak again. ‘But there is still a missing link. What drew Phelan back here? Maybe he realised that Elijah was Fitzgerald by accident and that led to the murder, but why come here in the first place, unless it was the pure coincidence of his being a painter.’
Michael knocked out his pipe into the grate. ‘Phelan Hayes may be a painter but the sort of person who wears the “orange lily” in public like that, owes his prime allegiance to the cause of Protestant domination. He’ll be a member of some sort of Orange organisation and will do its bidding. I would be willing to bet, one way or another, it was his duty in that direction that brought him here.’
32
Fearful Devices
Josiah and Michael took an early breakfast the following day and set off to the mine, walking back to Hailsworth Hall and being taken on by coach. As soon as they arrived Merriman joined them and led them down into a wooded valley overlooking the rest of the estate, with the roof of the Hall just visible in the distance.
As they passed the forge, Josiah noticed that the process of stabilising the building and tidying up had begun. Merriman saw his interest.
‘Don’t worry, Constable, we’ve been collecting all the bits of metal from the grenades we can find and anything else we thought you might need as evidence. McBrinnie’s body is in one of the empty outbuildings near the drift, waiting for the coroner. Mr Hailsworth is bringing him later today.’
Over the lip of the valley the path cut down through some high bracken and then, flattening out, entered a sheltered beech wood. After about a hundred yards they emerged into a series of small flat fields, where several of the mine ponies, not needed for work that day, were grazing. On the far side of the fields were some stables.
‘The small forge McBrinnie used for shoeing is near the stables,’ said Merriman.
The stable yard was full of activity as ponies were being harnessed up for the day’s work. Merriman pointed over to their left. ‘There’s a track down from the mine entrances over there by which the ponies go to work.’
The shoeing forge was small. It was not much more that a hearth, a few tools and a medium-sized anvil. But unlike the main forge, in neat rows round the walls were examples of different sizes and types of shoes. In a series of wooden boxes Josiah found various types of nails. He examined the sort used on Elijah. He turned to Merriman and held one up.
‘That’s as maybe, but there’s still a mystery to be solved here,’ said Merriman. ‘Here is everything that is needed for caring for the ponies, including the shoes and nails. But as you pointed out yesterday, Constable, where is the means to cast them?’
They searched round. The small forge was built on the edge of the valley. At its rear the ground fell away so that underneath the main building there was a large half-cellar accessible through a double door. When they opened it, inside the cellar, to the right of the door was a small furnace.’
‘So this is where he did the casting. The doors provide ventilation and it keep the hot work of smelting away from the forge. Typical McBrinnie practicality,’ said Merriman.
Josiah looked round. In one corner there was a pile of small pig iron billets for melting. In another were various sizes of crucibles to fit in the top of the furnace, as well as their tongs and carriers.
There were bags of sand and wooded trays for making pressed sand moulds, one under moistened sacking to keep it damp had already been prepared for the casting of six horseshoes.
‘Nothing out of order here,’ said Michael.
‘No evidence McBrinnie made the casings that were used for the grenades that killed him,’ said Josiah.
‘Looks as if he was expecting to cast a few horse shoes yesterday. You can’t leave sand moulds too long before using them,’ said Michael. ‘They dry out and crumble.’
Josiah was only half listening. Something had attracted his attention to footmarks near the pig iron store. He crouched down and brushed some of the earth away. In the bottom of an impression made by the heal of substantial hobnailed boot was a small piece of iron. It was broken, but not jagged, it had been split deliberately down two of the lines that divided it into two square moulded knobbles. He held it up.
‘Mr Merriman, am I right to think that failed iron castings can be melted down again and reused?’
‘Yes, provided you use enough fresh pig iron with them.’
‘So we wouldn’t find any tubes here unless someone happened to drop a piece of an old casing when putting fragments in the furnace.’
Merriman came over and looked at the fragment, tossed it in the air, caught it and whistled. ‘Constable, we came looking for a small foundry which we’ve found. Now we’ve found evidence that this furnace was used to make the tubing for the grenades. But the most precious thing in a foundry, are the patterns for the items cast, the wooden shapes that are pressed into the sand to make the moulds. They are expensive in time and skill to make. Where are Mr McBrinnie’s patterns? There should be one ’ere for ’orseshoes at least.’
They searched again, moving the bags of sand, the crucibles and even the pile of pig iron billet by billet. But there was nowhere the patterns could be. Dispirited, they walked round to the stables for a drink of water and in the case of Merriman and Michael a smoke.
‘Perhaps he simply put them somewhere else,’ said Michael.
Merriman knocked his pipe out on his boot heal. ‘I doubt they would be far from the furnace. He’d want them to hand, especially any private ones.’
Josiah thought for a moment. ‘One more search. If we don’t find anything then I will put what we have found to Mr Hailsworth and allow him to decide what should be done.’
They went back to the foundry. Josiah cast his eyes over the furnace itself. It was no more than waist high, bellows to one side and place for stoking with coal at the front. At the top was a space for the crucibles to be dropped in over the fire. All was mounted on a slab of solid Peak District grit-stone. There was a metal gantry above it to allow the crucibles to be raised on a chain pulley. A very well designed arrangement.
He now had a plausible account of what had happened. Phelan with the help of McBrinnie had killed Elijah in revenge for
the death of his mother. McBrinnie had told Phelan about the nails and Phelan had killed him to shut him up. But there were still questions to be answered. What was Phelan doing in the valley? Why had McBrinnie made the grenades? Josiah became aware that Merriman was looking up at the gantry with him.
‘Does that piece of gubbins worry you too?’
‘No not really. It seems very neat to me. As you said early typical McBrinnie practicality.’
‘But unnecessary. It don’t need a chain hoist to move the crucibles this furnace takes. The ones over there,’ he pointed to the crucibles and tools, ‘can be handled between two men for pouring or even one man at a pinch. It is also very unusual to put a furnace on a slab of stone. Hard baked clay is normal. Eventually the stone will crack with the heat.’
Having had his attention called to the stone Josaih looked at it more carefully. On the right front corner there was something metal in the dust. It would be very useful if it happened to be another piece of grenade tubing. He stooped and brushed the dust way. Attached to the corner of the stone slab, facing horizontally to the right was a heavy metal eye-ring. Merriman saw what he was doing and started examining the stone on the left side. There was an identical eye-ring on the left corner. They circumnavigated the slab. In all there were four eye-rings one at each corner.
Merriman let down the hoist and attached four hooks he found on the end of its main chain, one to each eye-ring. Then with Michael’s help they hauled the furnace into the air six inches and pulled it away to one side.
They looked in astonishment at a large-brick-lined cavity that had been concealed by the furnace. Josiah lit his small police lantern, gave his hat to Michael, and went down into the hole. It was about seven foot deep. To his left, sloping downwards, was a cramped tunnel about three feet high which ran for about five yards. This ended in a small chamber in which were three small chests. In one were the wooden patterns for several different designs of horseshoes as well as others for miscellaneous parts McBrinnie must have cast for use in the mine at odd times. In the second there were two sets of patterns for the grenade tubes and caps. In the third there was a supply of Furness Patent Blasting Charges along with two reels of fuse.
Children of Fire Page 20