by George Moore
Give thee an army? What strange thought is this! Did not the letter that Roudier gave thee make my downfall plain to thee? I cannot believe, father, that thy downfall is as complete as thou believest it to be. Galway and Mayo and a great part of Tipperary belong to thee still; the castles are garrisoned. I cannot give thee an army, Ulick. All I have is thine — All, father, except the one needed thing! As I have said, thy castles are garrisoned, and these garrisons would furnish how many men? Son, son, I dare not.... Speak, father, confide in me. I confide in no one but the bishop. If there be neither army nor confidence for me in Ireland, then indeed I must return to France to pick up my living as I ride. But thou wilt not leave me, Ulick? Return to thy stool and we’ll give our minds — I will not return to that stool, father, on which I sat for an hour or more till I could hardly rise from it, young as I am. I was so deep in thoughts of thee, Ulick, that I forgot thy comfort. Ulick cried to the incoming lackey that the back of the chair he was ordered to bring must be high and the seat well-cushioned, and until the chair was brought in the old, gaunt, broken-hearted Earl passed back and forth over the rushes, deep in searching for some means whereby he might keep his son in Ireland without detriment to his own vows. Sir John Bermingham, he said at last, is gathering a great army to oppose Bruce on his march to Dublin, and the fate of the battle depends on my standing aside, for one unlucky man may bring disaster. Art thou friends, father, with Bermingham? Nottingham looks upon me as a traitor, Bermingham does not, but he believes me to be at the end of my luck, and can I blame him? for so do I see myself: a man at the end of his luck; it would be well that I asked no boon from Bermingham. But if I went to Bermingham, father, and asked for command of a wing in his army? He would answer neither yea or nay but keep thee halting. That he shall never do! Ulick said. So, father, to-day or to-morrow we part, mayhap for ever, unless indeed thy good or evil fortune takes thee out of Ireland to France. Dost remember Courancy, father? I walked in Courancy with thy mother, Ulick, and can see the village plainly in my memory on the sunny hillside amid apple garths in flower and in sight of the silver Seine doubling again and again round poplar-lined fields. Sitting in this chair I have often dreamed of Courancy and two horsemen riding from castle to castle blowing fanfares before the gates. Why did we ever leave our native Normandy for England? Ulick asked, and still less reason was there for leaving England for Ireland. Thou’lt return, perhaps, to Courancy. Ulick, I am sixty years of age and misfortunes have made me many years older. There is no return for me to Courancy. I shall never leave Ireland again, and thou’lt never return to Ireland. Why should I? I came expecting an army and a battle — I promised Bermingham to stand aside, but it may be within the purposes of the Almighty that thou shouldst defend Castle Carra. The rumour, my son, is that when Bruce begins his march on Dublin his Irish allies will turn westward, and coming through Sligo by the road between the two lakes will enter Mayo to meet whatever troops Bermingham will leave with William de Burgo for the defence of Galway. Now, if thou wert in command of all my Mayo castles thou mightest give battle to Bruce’s allies at Balia. Such is my thought, son, but thou hast much to say against it if I read thy face truly. Only this, father, that thy plan gives me no hope of keeping my vow. Thy vow, Ulick? Yes; I have vowed myself to meet Bruce in single combat; he fights in the forefront of his battles. Even so thy chance of reaching him would be small. He will come at the head of ten, fifteen, or maybe twenty thousand men, and the knights in Bermingham’s army brook no hustling in their ranks; they fight in regular order. I am then like a hunter, that has come far after deer and boar and failing to find them draws his bow against a rabbit! So thou wilt defend Castle Carra against the Sligo men? I will, and I go to my bed half sorry, half glad.
An hour later a dream voice waked Ulick from his sleep, crying: The spell is upon him! Upon whom? he asked, sitting up in bed; and wondering what the spell was and who had cast it, he fell asleep as suddenly as he had waked.
III
A SEARCH PARTY was formed in the morning, but as it marched out of the courtyard Tadhg returned, and catching sight of Ulick he ran forward anxious to tell his story. Thy story does not concern me. Tell me how the box was stolen. The box, master, is safe in my tunic. Only with thee is the box safe, my good Tadhg! and now that I know it is safe I can listen to the tale of thy shriving. On leaving the chapel, Tadhg began, I fell in with friends — No need to say more, Tadhg. But Tadhg would not be dissuaded, and he began a tale of other companions. Thy tale will amuse me when we are interned in Castle Carra. Castle Carra, master! Of Castle Carra we will talk on the way thither. Before we start the Earl is looking forward to hearing thee play behind his chair and would speak to thee at once. I would have a word with Father Carabine, Tadhg began. The Earl comes before Father Carabine, Ulick interrupted, and Tadhg stood trying to understand but unable to put two ideas together. Did your honour say that the Earl would be wanting me to play behind his chair to-night? Yes, Tadhg, I did. At the thought of being restored to all his former honour sobriety seemed to return to Tadhg. If I had known that I was going to play I’d have said good-night to my companions before the last glasses came round. Thou’lt do thy best, Tadhg, and thy best is good enough for the Earl — words that appeared to Tadhg subsequently in the light of a prophecy, for the Earl addressed such words of praise to him that he fell on his knees. And intoxicated with his success he sought other intoxicants; he played and he drank all night long, delaying thereby their departure for Castle Carra, for he would not venture out on the water till Father Carabine shrove him again. Each sinning had to be atoned for by prayers, and it was not until the beginning of August that they left Galway for Cong, a little breeze carrying them along for some miles into Lough Corrib. Towards evening it died instead of freshening as they had expected, and the oars had to be put out.
To row a heavy barge twenty miles is a day’s work for a dozen men, and to sit in the stern of a boat watching men toiling at the oars is more wearisome than pulling an oar, and Ulick asked to be allowed to help; but not being an oarsman he wearied himself in vain, delaying their arrival at Cong. At Cong he was told that there wasn’t a boy in the village but Michael Quin who could take them to Castle Carra without missing his way. You’ll be at the castle before midnight, Mike cried, putting his heels into his chestnut nag, leaving them to follow him, a thing which was not easy to do, for the night was dark and he rode zig-zagging. Sometimes they were in a bog, sometimes in a forest, and after passing through Ballinrobe they seemed to be riding always in sight of a lake. Lough Carra, your honour; and the green hill away above it goes by the name of Mucloon because of a herd of pigs that a ghost used to trot out of the forest, a ghost that would strangle any man or woman if they so much as looked back on the road from Carnacun to Ballinrobe, or from Ballinrobe to Carnacun. Soon we’ll be taking the ford at the foot of Mucloon and you’ll be lifting your legs, for the water will be up to your horses’ girths; and keep your eyes all to the right or the ghost will be on you — you won’t be quit of him till you come to Carnacun.... They rode on for two more miles. You should be hearing a late cock or a too early one crowing as we go through Carnacun, and after that you may look to the right or the left, or wherever you like, for Carnacun is the mearing. Whose mearing? Ulick asked, and Tadhg answered: The ghost’s, to be sure! And a little beyond Carnacun the boy said: Now we’ll be coming to a bit of tough forest and you would do well to keep close to me, for if you lose the track I shall have a job to find you. We will not leave ten yards between us and thee, said Tadhg; and at the heels of the chestnut nag they rode through the darkness, expecting every moment the trees to divide on a background of grey lake. In answer to their questions Mike cried back: You won’t see a sight of the lake again till we come to Castle Carra, so it’s no good looking for it; keep your eyes on the tail of my nag.
The trees stopped suddenly and Lough Carra lay in front of them with its castle on their right, atop of a headland, only the keep showing, the parapeted walls and turrets
and redoubts lost in mists and shadows. Mike asked whether his honour would be willing that he should run down to the moat with the password. Give thee the password, boy? But it isn’t in your honour’s mind that I’d be making a bad use of the password if I had it? Ulick did not answer, and whilst waiting for the drawbridge to be lowered he looked into the deep moat and admired the fastness of the twin turrets and their great arch, in which he thought he could espy a portcullis. Gustave Landrey, the captain of the guard, came through it, and after exchanging a few words with Ulick he ordered the drawbridge to be lowered. A dark ride through a wild country, he said; if we had had any warning of your honour’s arrival to-night we should have been ready to receive you. Ulick signed to Tadhg to join him. Here is Tadhg ODorachy, my harper; I must speak with him. Thou hast paid our guide? Tadhg answered that he had, and whilst the ostlers were leading the horses to their stables Landrey came forward with a lantern picked up in the guard-house and led them up a steep path through the garden that encircled the keep to some steps set sideways along the castle walls, so narrow that the keep could be defended against an enemy. Even with bowmen to pick off the spearmen the keep can be held under cover of shields, Landrey said as he unlocked the great door. But no sooner was he across the threshold than he stumbled over a sleeper, falling on his face, and for a long time they were in darkness amid a hustle of men making off in search of other sleeping-quarters. At last recovering the lost lantern, Landrey said: If the Earl’s messenger had warned me of your arrival, sir, these fellows would not be lying about half asleep, half drunk; and in answer to Ulick’s questions he told that the roused men were Irish allies, whose fault was that they never knew on which side they had engaged themselves to fight. Do you feed in this hall and sleep in it? Ulick asked. Sometimes we eat and sleep here, but the Earl’s message came to me that the hall should be a privy residence for you, sir, whilst staying with us, and in this much I beg that your will shall not conflict with your father’s. I have had notice of the coming of carriers from Cong bringing beds and bed-linen, and I shall hope for a louver: one is needed; and he piled logs on the hearth built under a hole in the roof, the smoke passing out, to their admiration — The wind being favourable, Landrey said; but the words had barely passed his lips when a change in the wind’s direction filled the hall with smoke. If the door of the keep be kept shut, Ulick remarked, the smoke will find its way out; but he was told that though the door was closed, winds came down from the loopholes above on the staircases. And raising their eyes Ulick and Tadhg saw that the walls of the castle were solid only to a height of twenty feet; higher up they enclosed stairways, leading to the battlements, and the advantage of these was explained by Landrey. If the spearmen were shot by bowmen, he said, we would draw the ladders up after us and defend the castle from the stairs. But we shall have time to talk of the defence of the castle to-morrow. Here are some rugs. Once more, let me tell you how sorry I am that your first night in Castle Carra will be spent on the cold stones. There is a rug apiece, and here are two more. Now, sleep be with you.
It will be hard to sleep on these stones, Ulick said when Landrey had closed the door behind him. Does your honour remember the round tower at Ardrahan? Thou’rt thinking, said Ulick, of the stairs above us, reached by long ladders; well, think of them and cease thy prate, for I would sleep. Very soon he was calling to Tadhg for another rug, but in spite of it the same chilly discomfort kept him awake, and he despaired. But sleep came at last, and when he opened his eyes his surprise was great. Now, what do I see on the table yonder, Tadhg? Cakes that are still hot, master, and you would do well to eat them whilst they are hot. A good thought, said Ulick; and when he had eaten many hot cakes and drunk a cup of mead, he asked Tadhg if it were true that he liked French wine better than mead. And Tadhg, guessing the aim of the question, answered: I have no quarrel with French wine, your honour; and have good news to tell you about the beds. The steads and sheets and pillows will be here before the week is out. I hear somebody at the door. Captain Gustave Landrey asks if he may accompany your honour round the castle. Why does Captain Landrey remain on the threshold? Tadhg whispered: When I told him that your honour was breaking his fast he said he would wait. Beg him to come in, Ulick said, and Landrey, a full-bellied man with round face and flushed cheeks, came in speaking of the beautiful summertime. I hear that no rain has fallen for seven weeks, Ulick said. Not a drop, answered the captain. A cup of mead for you, Captain Gustave Landrey? A hearty health to you, Sir Ulick de Burgo! and having drunk he laid down the cup and broached his errand. You have lived in Castle Carra longer than I have, Captain Landrey, so I would have you take me round the battlements and tell me how the castle should be defended if the King of Sligo, whoever he may be, should lay siege. I’d like you to see Lough Carra from the battlements, Landrey answered. And I am willing to see it with you; but do not disclose the prospect to me before I see it, Ulick replied. The lake would exceed my telling this fine morning, the sun disclosing — Hush! Ulick interjected, and they went up the last steps of the stairs laughing, to view a mild and gracious lake amid low shores vanishing into grey distances, the lake curving round island fortresses and forests.
The Welsh were invaders in the twelfth century, Landrey said, and the wandering harpers have long stories to tell. A land that has always inspired invaders, Ulick answered. But I see two lakes, one on my left hand and one on my right. Not two lakes but one lake, for if your honour will follow the line of that long tongue of forest to its very tip, you will see that it does not join the Partry shore. A strait is there, and Lough Carra widens out again. I like the eastern lake better than the western, said Ulick; a lake is always lonely, and a lake without islands is desolate. Our lake is not without islands, Landrey answered; and the loveliest island of all lies under our shores, to-day without a hermit; but in the ninth century Marban, a hermit-poet, made his dwelling there. You must see it, sir, and Ballintober Abbey at the end of a long marsh, on a knoll, built by Roderick OConor, last King of Ireland. Castle de Burgo stands a little farther down the lake, between Castle Carra and Ballinrobe, and between Ballinrobe and Castlebar there are two castles, and between Ballyglass and Ballinafad there are two more; and all these castles are garrisoned by Norman soldiers — the smallest garrison is twenty-five men and an officer. There are but three or four miles between the castles, and the lighting of a beacon lantern on any one of them would bring from two hundred and fifty to three hundred men marching to help. Bruce will never wrench Castle Carra from our grip, said Ulick. But I did not come to Castle Carra to defend it, but to lead troops into battle when the Sligo men cross the frontier; for the threat is that they will pour into Mayo as soon as Bruce begins his march southward. Your face bespeaks doubt, Landrey. Mayhap, Sir Ulick, it does. We will talk of invasion from the Sligo border anon; I will now lead you through the gable end to the opposite staircase. Ireland is a rich and beautiful country, so I shall be sorry if we cannot keep her out of the hands of the Bruces. We shall not fail to keep her, Ulick answered. If we keep her we shall have to learn a language rough as the walls about us and live as the Irish live, always at war or quarrel. You speak Irish, Sir Ulick? I was born in Ireland, Landrey, and spoke French with my mother and father, Irish with Tadhg, who came to France with me and learnt to like French wine without giving much thought to the language. Dost hear me, Tadhg? Yes, your honour, I hear; but I’m seeking... Seeking what, Tadhg? A chest in which to keep your clothes, master. God grant that the carriers will bring us a couple. God grant they may! Ulick answered.
Landrey asked Ulick if he would care to come round the castle with him to see the eighty men-at-arms, all of whom, he averred, would be pleased to meet their new commander. On our way to the men’s quarters we shall pass through the kitchens, sir, and coming from France you will be able to tell that there are other ways of cooking pork than boiling it.
We have tried beef and mutton, but so inferior are they that we have returned to boiled pork and beans. Which repeated too often, sets
you all grunting, said Ulick. It does indeed, Landrey replied; our cook, though a Frenchman, is very Irish through no fault of his own, for his father died when he was on the breast. In how many ways, Tadhg, canst thou prepare beans and pork? Ulick asked. In a dozen, Tadhg answered. Then, Tadhg, thou’lt instruct the cook, for he knows but one. I’d do it gladly, your honour, if I had more French on the tongue. Around the pots and pans you will come to an understanding! And on these words they passed through the great door into the sunny air and waited on top of the steps to admire better the pink bellies of the pigs, whose enjoyment in the sun Landrey explained by the fact that they had just come from the trough and were digesting their meal. I cast no blame upon the pigs, Sir (they do all they can to become good pork), but upon the cook and an iron pot. Tadhg, said Ulick, thou’lt impart thy cooking to the wretched Norman who boils pork in a pot. I would not have believed your story, Captain Landrey, had I not heard it from your own lips! Such stories are sad, but lose some of their sadness when told on a lovely autumn morning on steps above an orchard, when damsons are darkening in the branches and the mint bed loses its scent, and the season of pork in all its multiple varieties is about to begin! Now, what do I hear? said Landrey. The rumbling of cart wheels and the cries of carters that the drawbridge shall be lowered — your beds and bedding arriving from Cong, sir. I must give my orders. Tadhg will give them for you, Captain Landrey, if you will allow him. My father sent me to Castle Carra for I needed a battle; a battle, he said, will be fought at Balia when Bruce leaves the north for Dublin. But you think differently; your face tells me you do. If your father told you — My father is in Galway out of the way of news from Sligo; but your’ scouts bring you news from the Sligo border daily or weekly. A scouting party returned yesterday, sir, with the news that 1318 is the richest year within the memory of the oldest man, and that the folk were in the fields shearing sheep, stacking corn and gathering apples — 1318 will be such a year for cider as Ireland has never known. But if messengers have brought the Earl your father other news, I would have you ride into Sligo yourself to inquire out the chances of a battle at Balia. It might be well for me to do so, for my hopes are plighted to a battle. Carts and waggons are waiting at the drawbridge, and if you have any orders, Sir Ulick? I will leave the settlement of the beds and benches to you, Captain Landrey. If they have brought tapestries you will hang them to their advantage. Whilst you transact the business of the castle I will admire the fortifications.
