Part 15 (1/2)
During all this time the heart-broken widow sat beyond the coffin, looking upon what pa.s.sed with a stupid sense of bereavement; and when they had all performed this last ceremony, it was found necessary to tell her that the time was come for the procession of the funeral, and they only waited for; her to take, as the rest did, her last look and embrace of her husband. When she heard this, it pierced her like an arrow; she became instantly collected, and her complexion a.s.sumed a dark shade of despairing anguish, which it was an affliction even to look upon, one then stooped over the coffin, and kissed him several times, after which she ceased sobbing, and lay silently with her mouth to his.
The character of a faithful wife sorrowing for a beloved husband has that in it which compels both respect and sympathy. There was not at this moment a dry eye in the house. She still lay silent on the coffin; but, as I observed that her bosom seemed not to heave as it did a little before, I was convinced that she had become insensible. I accordingly beckoned to Kelly's brother, to whom I mentioned what I had suspected; and on his going over to ascertain the truth, he found her as I had said. She was then brought to the air, and after some trouble--recovered; but I recommended them to put her to bed, and not to subject her to any unnecessary anguish, by a custom which was really too soul-piercing to endure. This, however, was, in her opinion, the violation of an old rite, sacred to her heart and affections--she would not hear of it for an instant. Again she was helped out between her brother and brother-in-law; and, after stooping down, and doing as the others had done--
”Now,” said she, ”I will sit here, and keep him under my eye as long as I can--surely you won't blame me for it; you all know the kind husband he was to me, and the good right I have to be sorry for him! Oh!” she added, ”is it thrue at all?--is he, my own Denis, the young husband of my early--and my first love, in good airnest, dead, and going to leave me here--me, Denis, that you loved so tindherly, and our childher, that your brow was never clouded aginst? Can I believe myself or is it a dhrame? Denis, _avick machree! avick machree!_* your hand was dreaded, and a good right it had, for it was the manly hand, that was ever and always raised in defence of them that wanted a friend; abroad, in the faction-fight, against the oppressor, your name was ever feared, acushla?--but at home--at home--where was your fellow Denis, agrah, do you know the lips that's spaking to you?--your young bride--your heart's light--Oh! I remimber the day you war married to me like yesterday. Oh!
avourneen, then and since wasn't the heart of your own Honor bound up in you--yet not a word even to me. Well, agrah, machree, 'tisn't your fault, it's the first time you ever refused to spake to your own Honor.
But you're dead, avourneen, or it wouldn't be so--you're dead before my eyes--husband of my heart, and all my hopes and happiness goes into the coffin and the grave along wid you, forever!”
* Son of my heart! Son of my heart!
All this time she was rocking herself from side to side, her complexion pale and ghastly as could be conceived, and the tears streaming from her eyes. When the coffin was about to be closed, she retired until it was nailed down, after which she returned with her bonnet and cloak on her, ready to accompany it to the grave. I was astonished--for I thought she could not have walked two steps without a.s.sistance; but it was the custom, and to neglect it, I found, would have thrown the imputation of insincerity upon her grief. While they were preparing to bring the coffin out, I could hear the chat and conversation of those who were standing in crowds before the door, and occasionally a loud, vacant laugh, and sometimes a volley of them, responsive to the jokes of some rustic wit, probably the same person who acted master of the revels at the wake.
Before the coffin was finally closed, Ned Corrigan, whom I had put to flight the preceding night, came up, and repeated the De Profundis, in very strange Latin, over the corpse. When this was finished, he got a jug of holy water, and after dipping his thumb in it, first made the sign of the cross upon his own forehead, and afterwards sprinkled it upon all present, giving my brother and myself an extra compliment, supposing, probably, that we stood most in need, of it. When this was over, he sprinkled the corpse and the coffin in particular most profusely. He then placed two pebbles from Lough Derg* and a bit of holy candle, upon the breast of the corpse, and having said a Pater and Ave, in which he was joined by the people, he closed the lid and nailed it down.
* Those who make a station at Lough Derg are in the habit of bringing home some of its pebbles, which are considered to be sacred and possessed of many virtues.
”Ned,” said his brother, ”are his feet and toes loose?”
”Musha, but that's more than myself knows,” replied Ned--”Are they, Katty?” said he, inquiring from the sister of the deceased.
”Arrah, to be sure, avourneen!” answered Katty--”do you think we would lave him to be tied that way, when he'd be risin' out of his last bed at the day of judgment? Wouldn't it be too bad to have his toes tied thin, avourneen?”
The coffin was then brought out and placed upon four chairs before the door, to be keened; and, in the mean time, the friends and well-wishers of the deceased were brought into the room to get each a gla.s.s of whiskey, as a token of respect. I observed also, that such as had not seen any of Kelly's relations until then, came up, and shaking hands with them, said--”I'm sorry for your loss!” This expression of condolence was uniform, and the usual reply was, ”Thank you, Mat, or Jim!” with a pluck of the skirt, accompanied by a significant nod, to follow. They then got a due share of whiskey; and it was curious, after they came out, their faces a little flushed, and their eyes watery with the strong, ardent spirits, to hear with what heartiness and alacrity they entered into Denis's praises.
When he had been keened in the street, there being no hoa.r.s.e, the coffin was placed upon two handspikes, which were fixed across, but parallel to each other under it. These were borne by four men, one at the end of each, with the point of it crossing his body a little below his stomach; in other parts of Ireland, the coffin is borne upon a bier on the shoulders, but this is more convenient and less distressing.
When we got out upon the road, the funeral was of great extent--for Kelly had been highly respected. On arriving at the merin which bounded the land he had owned, the coffin was laid down, and a loud and wailing keene took place over it. It was again raised, and the funeral proceeded in a direction which I was surprised to see it take, and it was not until an acquaintance of my brother's had explained the matter that I understood the cause of it. In Ireland when a murder is perpetrated, it is sometimes usual, as the funeral proceeds to the grave-yard, to bring the corpse to the house of him who committed the crime, and lay it down at his door, while the relations of the deceased kneel down, and, with an appaling solemnity, utter the deepest, imprecations, and invoke the justice of heaven on the head of the murderer. This, however, is generally omitted if the residence of the criminal be completely out of the line of the funeral, but if it be possible, by any circuit, to approach it, this dark ceremony is never omitted. In cases where the crime is doubtful, or unjustly imputed, those who are thus visited come out, and laying their right hand upon the coffin, protest their innocence of the blood of the deceased, calling G.o.d to witness the truth of their a.s.severations; but, in cases where the crime is clearly proved against the murderer, the door is either closed, the ceremony repelled by violence, or the house abandoned by the inmates until the funeral pa.s.ses.*
* Many of these striking and startling old customs have nearly disappeared, and indeed it is better that they should.
The death of Kelly, however, could not be actually, or, at least, directly considered a murder, for it was probable that Grimes did not inflict the stroke with an intention to take away his life, and, besides, Kelly survived it four months. Grimes's house was not more than fifteen perches from the road: and when the corpse was opposite the little bridleway that led up to it, they laid it down for a moment, and the relations of Kelly surrounded it, offering up a short prayer, with uncovered heads. It was then borne toward the house, whilst the keening commenced in a loud and wailing cry, accompanied with clapping of hands, and every other symptom of external sorrow. But, independent of their compliance with this ceremony, as an old usage, there is little doubt that the appearance of anything connected with the man who certainly occasioned Kelly's death, awoke a keener and more intense sorrow for his loss. The wailing was thus continued until the coffin was laid opposite Ghimes's door; nor did it cease then, but, on the contrary, was renewed with louder and more bitter lamentations.
As the mult.i.tude stood compa.s.sionating the affliction of the widow and orphans, it was the most impressive and solemn spectacle that could be witnessed. The very house seemed to have a condemned look; and, as a single wintry breeze waved a tuft of long gra.s.s that grew on a seat of turf at the side of the door, it brought the vanity of human enmity before my mind with melancholy force. When the keening ceased, Kelly's wife, with her children, knelt, their faces towards the house of their enemy, and invoked, in the strong language of excited pa.s.sion, the justice of heaven upon the head of the man who had left her a widow, and her children fatherless. I was anxious to know if Grimes would appear to disclaim the intention of murder; but I understood that he was at market--for it happened to be market-day.
”Come out!” said the widow--”come out, and look at the sight that's here before you! Come and view your own work! Lay but your hand upon the coffin, and the blood of him you murdhered will spout, before G.o.d and these Christian people, in your guilty face! But, oh! may the Almighty G.o.d bring this home to you!--May you never lave this life, John Grimes, till worse nor has overtaken me and mine fall upon you and yours! May our curse light upon you this day!--the curse, I say, of the widow and the orphans, that your b.l.o.o.d.y hand has made us, may it blast you! May you, and all belonging to you wither off of the 'airth! Night and day, sleeping and waking--like snow off the ditch, may you melt, until your name and your place be disremimbered, except to be cursed by them that will hear of you and your hand of murdher! Amin, we pray G.o.d this day!--and the widow and orphans' prayer will not fall to the ground while your guilty head is above it! Childhre, do you all say it?”
At this moment a deep, terrific murmur, or rather e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, corroborative of a.s.sent to this dreadful imprecation, pervaded the crowd in a fearful manner; their countenances darkened, their eyes gleamed, and their scowling visages stiffened into an expression of determined vengeance.
When these awful words were uttered, Grimes's wife and daughters approached the window in tears, sobbing, at the same time, loudly and bitterly.
”You're wrong,” said the wife--”you're wrong, Widow Kelly, in saying that my husband murdhered him:--he did not murdher him; for when you and yours were far from him, I heard John Grimes declare before the G.o.d who's to judge him, that he had no thought or intention of taking his life; he struck him in anger, and the blow did him an injury that was not intended. Don't curse him, Honor Kelly,” said she, ”don't curse him so fearfully; but, above all, don't curse me and my innocent childher, for we never harmed you, nor wished you ill! But it was this party work did it! Oh, my G.o.d!” she exclaimed, wringing her hands in utter bitterness of spirit, ”when will it be ended between friends and neighbors, that ought to live in love and kindness together instead of fighting in this bloodthirsty manner!”
She then wept more violently, as did her daughters.
”May G.o.d give me mercy in the last day, Mrs. Kelly, as I pity from my heart and soul you and your orphans,” she continued; ”but don't curse us, for the love of G.o.d--for you know we should forgive our enemies, as we ourselves, that are the enemies of G.o.d, hope to be forgiven.”
”May G.o.d forgive me, then, if I have wronged you or your husband,” said the widow, softened by their distress; ”but you know, that whether he intended his life or not, the stroke he gave him has left my childher without a father, and myself dissolate. Oh, heavens above me!” she exclaimed, in a scream of distraction and despair, ”is it possible--is it thrue--that my manly husband--the best father that ever breathed the breath of life--my own Denis, is lying dead--murdhered before my eyes?
Put your hands on my head, some of you--put your hands on my head, or it will go to pieces. Where are you, Denis--where are you, the strong of hand, and the tender of heart? Come to me, darling, I want you in my distress. I want comfort, Denis; and I'll take it from none but yourself, for kind was your word to me in all my afflictions!”
All present were affected; and, indeed, it was difficult to say, whether Kelly's wife or Grimes's was more to be pitied at the moment. The affliction of the latter and of her daughters was really pitiable; their sobs were loud, and the tears streamed down their cheeks like rain. When the widow's exclamations had ceased, or rather were lost in the loud cry of sorrow which were uttered by the keeners and friends of the deceased--they, too, standing somewhat apart from the rest, joined in it bitterly; and the solitary wail of Mrs. Grimes, differing in character from that of those who had been trained to modulate the most profound grief into strains of a melancholy nature, was particularly wild and impressive. At all events, her Christian demeanor, joined to the sincerity of her grief, appeased the enmity of many; so true is it that a soft answer turneth away wrath. I could perceive, however, that the resentment of Kelly's male relations did not appear to be in any degree moderated.