Part 17 (2/2)
”You really do stump it stoutly, as you' say,” I replied.
”Ay,” said she, ”an' not a wan' o' me but's as weak as a cat, at home scarce can put a hand to any thing; but then, your Reverence, my eldest daughter, Ellish, jist minds the house, an' lots the ould mother mind the prayers, as I'm not able to do a hand's turn, worth namin'.”
”But you appear to be stout and healthy,” I observed, ”if a person may judge by your looks.”
”Glory be to them that giv it to me then! that I am at the present time, _padre dheelish_. But don't you know I'm always so durin' this journey; I've a wicket heart-burn that torments the very life out o' me, all the year round till this; and what 'ud your Reverence think, but it's sure to lave me, clear and clane, and a fortnight or so afore I come here; I never wanst feels a bit iv it, while I rouse and prepare myself for the Island, nor for a month after I come here agen, Glory be to G.o.d.”
She then turned to her companion, and commenced, in a voice half audible--”Musha! Katty a-haygur, did ye iver lay your two livin' eyes on so young a priest? a sweet and holy crathur he is, no doubt, and has goodness in his face, may the Lord bless him!”
”Musha!” said she, ”surely your Reverence can't be long afther bein'
ordained, I'm thinkin'?”
”Well, that's very strange,” said I, evading her, ”so you tell me your heartburn leaves you, and that you get stout every year about the time of your pilgrimage?”
”An' troth an' I do!--hut! what am I sayin'? Indeed, sir, may be that's more than I can say, either, your Reverence: but for sartin'it is”--
”Do you mean that you do, or that you do not?” I inquired.
”Indeed, your Reverence, you jist hot it--the Lord bless you, and spare you to the parents that reared ye; an' proud people may they be at having the likes of 'im, Katty avourneen”--turning abruptly to Katty, that she might disarm my interogatories on this tender subject with a better grace--”proud people, as I said afore, the Lord may spare him to them!”
We here topped a little hill, and saw the spire of a steeple, and the skirts of a country town, which a pa.s.senger told us was about three miles distant.
My feet by this time were absolutely in griskins, nor was I by any means prepared for a most unexpected proposal, which the spokeswoman, after some private conversation with the other, undertook to make. I could not imagine what the purport of the dialogue was; but I easily saw, that I myself was the subject of it, for I could perceive them glance at me occasionally, as if they felt a degree of hesitation in laying down the matter for my approval; at length she opened it with great adroitness:--”Musha, an' to be sure he will, Katty dear an' darlin'--and mightn't you know he would--the refusin' to do it isn't in his face, as any body that has eyes to see may know--you ashamed!--and what for would ye be ashamed?--asth.o.r.e, it's 'imself that's not proud, or he wouldn't tramp it, barefooted, along wud two ould crathurs like huz; him that has no sin to answer for--but I'll spake to 'im myself, and yell see it's he that won't refuse it. Why thin, your Reverence, Katty an' I war thinkin', that as there's only three of us, an' the town's afore us, where we'll rest a while, plaise G.o.d--for by that time the shower that's away over there will be comin' down;--that as there's but three of us, would it be any harm if we sed a bit of a Rosary, and your Reverence to join us?”
This was, indeed, a most unexpected attack; but it was evident that I was set down by this curious woman as a paragon of piety; though indeed her object was rather to smooth the way in my mind, for what she intended should be a very excellent opinion of her own G.o.dliness.
I looked about me, and as far as my eye could reach, the road appeared solitary. I did, 'tis true, debate the matter with myself, pro and con, for I felt the absurdity of my situation, and of this abrupt proposal, more than I was willing to suppose I did. Still, thought I, it is a serious thing to refuse praying with this poor woman, because she is poor--G.o.d is no respecter of person--this too is a Rosary to the Blessed Virgin; besides, nothing can be too humbling for a person when once engaged in this holy station--”So, pride, I trample you under my feet!”
said I to myself, at a moment when the appearance of a respectable person on the road would have routed all my humility. I complied, however, with a very condescending grace, and to it we went. The old women pulled out their beads, and I got my hat, which had one of my shoes in it, under my arm. They requested that I would open the Rosary, which I did: and thus we kept tossing the ball of prayer from one to another along the way, whilst I was bending and sinking on the hard gravel in perfect agony. But we had not gone far, when the shower, which we did not suppose would have fallen until we should reach the town, began to descend with greater bounty than we were at all prepared for, or than I was, at least; for I had no outside coat: but indeed the morning was so beautiful, that rain was scarcely to be apprehended. With respect to the old lady, she appeared to be better acquainted with the necessary preparations for such a journey than I had been: for as soon as the shower became heavy (and it fell very heavily), she whipped off her cloak, and before I could say a syllable to the contrary, had it pinned about me. She then drew out of a large four-cornered pocket of red cloth, that hung at her side, a hare's-skin cap, which in a twinkling was on her own cranium. But what was most singular, considering the heat of the weather, was the appearance of an excellent frieze jacket, such as porters and draymen usually wear, with two outside pockets on the sides, into one of which she drove her arm up to the elbow, and in the other hand carried her staff like a man--I thought she wore the cap, too, a little to the one side on her head. Indeed, a more ludicrous appearance could scarcely be conceived than she now exhibited. I, on the other hand, cut an original figure, being six feet high, with a short gray cloak pinned tightly about me, my black ca.s.simere small-clothes peeping below it--my long, yellow, polar legs, unenc.u.mbered with calves, quite naked--a good hat over the cloak--but no shoes on my feet, marching thus gravely upon my pilgrimage, with two such figures!
In this singular costume did we advance the rain all the time falling in torrents. The town, however, was not far distant, and we arrived at a little thatched house, where ”dry lodgin'” was offered above the door, both to ”man and baste;” and never did an unfortunate group stand more in need of dry lodging, for we were wet to the skin. On entering the town, we met a carriage, in which were a gentleman and two ladies: I chanced to be walking a little before the woman, but could perceive, by casting a glance into the carriage, that they were in convulsions with laughter; to which I have strong misgivings of having contributed in no ordinary degree. But I felt more indignant at the wit, forsooth, of the well-fed serving-man behind the coach, who should also have his joke upon us; for as we pa.s.sed, he turned to my companion, whom he addressed as a male personage--”And why, you old villain, do you drive your cub to the 'island' pinioned in such a manner,--give him the use of his arms, you sinner!”--thus intimating that I was a b.o.o.by son of her's in leading-strings. The old lady looked at him with a very peculiar expression of countenance; I thought she smiled, but never did a smile appear to me so pregnant with bitterness and cursing scorn. ”Ay,” said she, ”there goes the well-fed heretic, that neither fasts nor prays--his G.o.d is his belly--they have the fat of the land for the present, your Reverence, but wait a bit. In the mane time, we had betther get in here a little, till this shower pa.s.ses--you see the sun's beginnin' to brighten behind the rain, so it can't last long: and a bit of breakfast will do none of us any harm.” We then entered the house aforesaid, which presented a miserable prospect for refreshment; but as I was in some measure identified with my fellow-travelers, I could not with a good grace give them up. I had not at the time the least experience of the world, was incapable of that discrimination which guides some people, as it were by instinct, in choosing their society, and had altogether but a poor notion of the more refined decorum of life. When we got in, the equivocal lady began to exercise some portion of authority. ”Come,” said she, ”here's a clargyman, and you had betther lose no time in gettin'
his Reverence his breakfast;” then, said, the civil creature to the mistress, in the same kind of half audible tone--
”Avourneen, if you have anything comfortable, get it for him; he is generous, an' will pay you well for it; a blessed crathur he is too, as ever brought good luck under your roof; Lord love you, if ye hard him discoursin' uz along the road, as if he was one of ourselves, so mild and sweet! I'm sure I'll always have a good opinion of myself for puttin' on the jacket this bout, at any rate, as I was able to spare his Reverence the cloak, a-haygur! the mild crathur!”
While my fellow traveller was thus talking, I had time to observe that the woman of the house was a cleanly-looking creature, with something of a sickly appearance. An old gray-headed man sat in something between a chair and a stool, formed of one solid piece of ash, supported by three legs sloping outwards; the seat of it was quite smooth by long use, and a circular row of rungs, capped by a piece of semicircular wood, shaped to receive the reclining body of whoever might occupy it, rose from the seat in presumptuous imitation of an arm-chair. There were two other chairs besides this, but the remainder of the seats were all stools. The room was square, with a bed in each of the corners adjoining the fire, covered with blue drugget quilts, stoutly quilted; there was another room in which the travellers slept. Opposite me on the wall was the appropriate picture of St. Patrick himself, with his crosier in hand, driving all kinds of venomous reptiles out of the kingdom. The Hermit of Killamey was on his right, and the Yarmouth Tragedy, or the dolorious history of Jemmy and Nancy, two unfortunate lovers, on his left. Such is the rigorous economy of a pilgrimage, and such is the circ.u.mstances of the greater part of those who undertake it, that it is to houses of this description the generality of them resort. These ”dry lodging” houses may not improperly be called Pilgrims' Inns, a great number of them being opened only during the continuance of the three months in which the stations are performed.
Breakfast was now got ready, but it was evident that my two companions had not been taken into account; for there was ”an equipage” only for one. I inquired from my speaking partner if she and her fellow-traveller would not breakfast. The only reply I received was a sorrowful shake of the head, and ”Och, no, plaise your Reverence, no!” in quite an exhausted cadence. On hearing this, the kind landlady gave them a look of uncommon pity, exclaiming at the same time, as if in communication with her own feelings, ”Musha, G.o.d pity them, the poor crathurs; an they surely can't but be both wake an ungry afther sich a journey, this blessed an' broilin'day--och! och! if I had it or could afford it, an'
they shouldn't want, any way--arrah, won't ye thry and ate a bit of something?” addressing herself to them. ”Ooh, then, no, alanna, but I'd just thank ye for a dhrink of cowld wather, if ye plase; an' that may be the strengthenin' of us a bit.” I saw at once that their own little stock of provisions, if they really had any, was too scanty to allow the simple creatures the indulgence of a regular meal; still I thought they might, if they felt so very weak, have taken even the slightest refreshment from their bags. However, I was bound in honor, and also in charity, to give them their breakfast, which I ordered accordingly for them both, it being, I considered, only fair that as we had prayed together we should eat together. Whilst we were at breakfast, the landlady, with a piece of foresight for which I afterwards thanked her, warmed a pot of water, in which my feet were bathed; she then took out a large three-cornered pincus.h.i.+on with ta.s.sels, which hung at her side, a darning needle, and having threaded it, she drew a white woollen thread several times along a piece of soap, pressing it down with her thumb until it was quite soapy; this she drew very tenderly through the blisters which were risen on my feet, cutting it at both ends, and leaving a part of it in the blister. It is decidedly the best remedy that ever was tried, for I can declare that during the remainder of my pilgrimage, not one of these blisters gave me the least pain.
When breakfast was over, and these kind attentions performed, we set out once more; and from this place, I remarked, as we advanced, that an odd traveller would fall in upon the way: so that before we had gone many miles farther, the fatigue of the journey was much lessened by the society of the pilgrims. These were now collected into little groups, of from three to a dozen, each, with the exception of myself and one or two others of a decenter cast, having the staff and bag. The chat and anecdotes were, upon the whole, very amusing; but although there was a great variety of feature, character, and costume among so many, as must always be the case where people of different lives, habits, and pursuits, are brought together; still I could perceive that there was a shade of strange ruminating abstraction apparent on all. I could observe the cheerful narrator relapse into a temporary gloom, or a fit of desultory reflection, as some train of thought would suddenly rise in his mind. I could sometimes perceive a shade of pain; perhaps of anguish, darken the countenance of another, as if a bitter recollection was awakened; yet this often changed, by an unexpected transition, to a gleam of joy and satisfaction, as if a quick sense or hope of relief flashed across his heart.
When we came near Petigo, the field for observation was much enlarged.
The road was then literally alive with pilgrims, and reminded me, as far as numbers were concerned, of the mult.i.tudes that flocked to market on a fair-day. Petigo is a snug little town, three or four miles from the lake, where the pilgrims all sleep on the night before the commencement of their stations. When we were about five or six miles from it, the road presented a singular variety of grouping. There were men and women of all ages, from the sprouting devotee of twelve, to the h.o.a.ry, tottering pilgrim of eighty, creeping along, bent over his staff, to perform this soul-saving work, and die.
Such is the reverence in which this celebrated place is held, that as we drew near it, I remarked the conversation to become slack; every face put on an appearance of solemnity and thoughtfulness, and no man was inclined to relish the conversation of his neighbor or to speak himself.
The very women were silent. Even the la.s.situde of the journey was unfelt, and the unfledged pilgrim, as he looked up in his father's or mother's face, would catch the serious and severe expression he saw there, and trot silently on, forgetting that he was fatigued.
For my part, I felt the spirit of the scene strongly, yet, perhaps, not with such an exclusive interest as others. I had not only awe, terror, enthusiasm, pride, and devotion to manage, but suffered heavy annoyance from the inroad of a villanous curiosity which should thrust itself among the statelier feelings of the occasion, and set all attempts to restrain it at defiance. It was a sad bar to my devotions, which, but for its intrusion, I might have conducted with more meritorious.
steadiness. How, for instance, was it possible for me to register the transgressions of my whole life, heading them under the ”seven deadly sins,” with such a prospect before me as the beautiful waters and sh.o.r.es of Lough Erne?
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