It was shortly after Bridget and Anthony’s wedding in 1873 that Charlie finally received permission to court Emily. Squire McArdle was aware of the part Charlie had played in confronting Patrick Ivey in the matter of the Kelly girl and her child. He told Pa that he was impressed by Charlie’s firmness and discretion in handling the entire morbid affair. Charlie’s continued sobriety helped his cause as well. One day he received word that the Squire wanted to see him at Sweet’s Corner. Pa merely patted him on the back and said nothing, but Ma embraced him saying: “Now listen to me, lad. You can hold up your head with the best of them. You are the son of the greatest man this county has ever known, and if you ask me he is the greatest man in all of Canada. And you yourself are a well-educated, propertied gentleman. That is, you will be as soon as your Pa makes over a portion of his land to you. You helped your Pa expand our lands these last several years. So what if you made some mistakes when you were younger? Every man does, probably even your Pa and Squire McArdle, not that I would have any way of knowing anything about it. And as for all that about the English royalty, well, you are descended from Irish royalty. In Ireland, the O’Connors were kings. Don’t you be forgetting it!”
“I won’t, Ma,” he replied. As if he ever could. He put on his best suit. Annie had polished his boots for him. As she handed them over she whispered to him, “Emily loves you. That’s all that matters!” He blushed to the roots of his hair. Then he walked over to Sweet’s Corner.
The Squire opened the door. He had a white beard and cane although he was much younger than Pa. He regarded Charlie with sternness. Charlie looked him squarely in the face. He was determined to show no trepidation.
“Come in, Charlie,” said the Squire. “Let’s go sit in the parlor. Mrs. McArdle will join us shortly.” Charlie followed. He saw no sign of Emily. Although he had known the McArdles all of his life and Emily since the day she was born, everything about their home suddenly appeared hostile and vaguely threatening. The family members in the photos and drawings frowned at him, and the print of Queen Victoria glowered unmercifully. Even the horsehair davenport exuded antipathy. The only friendly face was that of the Blessed Virgin in a picture over the mantelpiece. “Sweet Heart of Mary, be my salvation!” he murmured to himself.
“Sit down here, please” said the Squire, motioning to a chair. “Now Charlie, you realize that Emily has been carefully brought up, as have her older sisters. Her education, acquired at great expense, has made her worthy of a duke’s hand. While she is no great beauty….”
“I beg your pardon, sir” interrupted Charlie, “but I think Emily is the most beautiful girl in the world!”
“While she is no great beauty,” continued Squire Andrew, with a sharp look at Charlie, “her learning, manners, household skills, and musical abilities will make her an excellent wife for any man. But not just any man. I want only the best for my youngest child.”
“Squire McArdle,” declared Charlie firmly. “I am not a duke but I am from an honorable family, bearing a great name. As you know I am set to inherit Long Point, including the lots which I have helped my father to purchase and cultivate. I am already preparing to build a house for my bride on the lot across from the schoolhouse, close to a good well. I’ll build a new barn, too. I also plan to supplement my income by carpentry work, including the building of windmills. I promise that I will do all that I can to insure Emily’s comfort, health and happiness.”
Squire McArdle surveyed him steadily for a moment. “Very well,” he said at last, shaking Charlie’s hand. “I give you permission to court my Emily.” There was a light tapping on the door, and Mrs. McArdle entered. Charlie rose and bowed deeply. Mrs. McArdle curtseyed ever so slightly. “Madam, I have given young Charlie here permission to call upon our Emily as a potential suitor for her hand in marriage.”
Mrs. McArdle smiled benignly. “I’ll call Emily.” In a few moments, Emily stepped into the parlor in a pink calico dress, eyes downcast and hands folded demurely. She wore her hair much like his sister Bridget, piled on the top of her head and trailing down in the back, except Emily’s hair was not so wild. Her entire demeanor radiated shyness, as if she had been experiencing as much trepidation as he had. The severity of the room disappeared with her entrance; the family photographs assumed a cheerful aspect, as the Blessed Mother beamed. Charlie could not understand why Squire McArdle did not think Emily was a beauty. Her blue-gray eyes had long thick lashes, which added to the mystery of her every glance, as if she nourished a secret which she would never tell. The entire aspect of her face was mischievous and uncanny, as if she was used to stepping across the thresholds of time and space. He took her small hand and they sat next to each other on the davenport, which had become quite welcoming. As they sat down her face broke into a smile. To Charlie there was nothing more enchanting than one of Emily’s pixie-like smiles. They did not talk about marriage but instead discussed the books they had both recently read. Later neither of them remembered a word of the conversation, being conscious only of the happiness of being together.
The time since then had sped by. The next year, they became engaged, and two years after that, in 1876, they married. They lived with Charlie’s parents until he could finish building the house. Emily fit right in with the flow of life at Long Point, and Ma treated her as another daughter, for better or worse. Annie and Lottie loved her as another sister, and went to her with many a problem, which they feared would upset their mother. In the meantime, Ellen returned after many years of being a governess in New York State, still a spinster and prim as ever, with high standards for the conduct of those around her. Pa spoke of getting Ellen her own house. In fact, he bought an already built house downriver and had it moved to Long Point, so that soon there was a cottage across the road from the main farmhouse ready for Ellen to move into whenever she wanted. Pa planned to legally put the cottage in her name and in the names of Lottie and Annie, to assure that they had a place to live in case they chose not to marry.
Their happiness was short lived. Just before their first wedding anniversary, Emily lost their unborn child. They had been so excited about the baby, planning names, and Charlie had built a cradle. He never forgot the horror of the night when Emily woke him in tears, saying she thought she was losing the baby. He fetched his mother and in the morning they sent for Mrs. McArdle. Both mothers spent a great deal of time closeted with Emily in her room, and when they approached him it was with grave faces.
“There is no sorrow like it, my son,” stated Mrs. McArdle, consolingly.
His mother said: “Sit with Emily now, and don’t be leaving her side. I’ll bring you your meals. She needs all of your love right now.” Charlie went to Emily and lay down on the bed next to her. Holding her in his arms, they both sobbed together. After the miscarriage, Emily’s cheeks lost their pink hue and the spring was gone from her step; she comported herself in a quiet, perfunctory manner.
“She smiles only when you are here,” said Ma to Charlie. “Otherwise, she does not smile at all.”
Then Charlie began to have nightmares. Almost every night he dreamed of a roaring in his ears. He was unable to breathe and was surrounded by a river of blood, screams filling his ears. It was like a temporary hell. He began to drink whiskey every night before bed and found that if he drank enough of it, he went right to sleep and slept so soundly he was unaware of any dreams. His father noticed him drinking heavily one night, long after Emily had gone to bed, and asked him about it. Charlie told him about the dream. Pa’s countenance darkened.
“You do not remember your sister Katy, but she died after she was attacked by a wolf with hydrophobia,” Pa told him. Charlie was shocked. He was vaguely aware that there had been a sister named Katy but he had no idea of the circumstances of her death. “Was I there? Was I even born yet?”
Pa’s spoke slowly. “You were a wee lad. The wolf charged at you. Katy shielded you with her body and was badly mauled. She would have survived had the beast not been diseased.”
“Alas, your mind has forgotten but your soul remembers. Methinks the loss of the babe has stirred up what was hidden in the depth of your soul.”
“What must I do to stop having the dream?”
“What you and Emily need is a fresh start in a home of your own. You will both be kept busy arranging everything and before you know it you will be laughing and happy again. And then another child will come along, believe me. I am going to deed you and Emily the land in the next few months. So go on and finish the house. The sooner you move in, the better.”
Pa kept his word and the land across from the schoolhouse was soon theirs. Charlie spent every afternoon working on the house, and as the summer days came he worked late into the night. As the house took shape, Emily was busy sewing curtains and spent a great deal of time in the loom house making rugs. In the large cedar chest, which contained her trousseau, there were enough quilts, pillows, sheets and embroidered pillow cases for a large family to sleep comfortably. They were busy, happy days but there was not yet any sign of another child.
A full moon was rising. As Charlie climbed down from the ladder, he almost dropped his hammer when he realized someone was standing there. It was a woman in black. At first he thought it was his mother. “Ma? Is that you?”
“No, ‘tis meself. Mrs. Barnes,” said the woman.
“Mrs. Barnes! What are you doing abroad so late and so far from home?” asked Charlie. He had only seen her occasionally over the years. Although it was dusk and he could not see her clearly, she had not changed much, if at all.
“I am going to see my daughter who is with child. She lives nearby. I saw you working, Charles James O’Connor and I thought I would give you a message.”
“A message?”
“You have been in my prayers, you and Emily. I heard that you lost your babe. And the next is a long time coming. Well, me lad, have no fear. Within a year, Emily will have a son, your only son, although you will have a daughter much later. This son will have many gifts. Not the gift of the second sight, but one better. He will have the gift of healing. And he will have many children. Through him you will be the father of many generations. So be of good cheer!”
Charlie was stunned and felt that he was in a waking dream. He was glad at the thought of begetting a son but saddened that Mrs. Barnes thought Emily would only be having two children. Everyone in both their families had many offspring!
It was as if she read his mind, because she said: “Believe you me, Charles James, your son will make you prouder than twenty ordinary lads ever could. And your daughter will be blessed as well. She will be a great storyteller. And she will have the second sight.”
Charlie’s mind was whirling. The thought of having a clairvoyant daughter was something to ponder. “Would you like to come to the house and have a cup of tea, Mrs. Barnes?” he asked, remembering his manners.
“Nay, lad. I must away. My daughter awaits me. I am glad we met. Nothing happens by chance.” And she started off down the road.
Charlie picked up his tools and made his way towards the old homestead. He saw Emily coming out to meet him, bathed in the silvery-blue of moonlight mingled with twilight. Her hair was piled on her head but soon she would loosen it. He was the only man on earth who knew how ravishing she was with her hair trailing down. He thought of how his life was no longer his own; it was hers, and she was his.
“Are you well, Charlie? You seem dazed,” she said.
“I saw Mrs. Barnes,” he told her. “She said we are going to have a son.”
“Mrs. Barnes was at Long Point?” inquired Emily. “What was she doing here?”
“She was going to see her daughter.” And Charlie related to her what Mrs. Barnes had said.
“Very interesting,” Emily thoughtfully replied. “I remember what Fr. Spratt once told us: that we need not totally ignore such phenomena but it is best not to place too much emphasis on them either. But I am making a novena to St. Joseph for a baby.” She put her arm through his and they walked back to the house.
In a month the new house was finished and they joyfully moved in. It was a white framed L-shaped design, in the Victorian-style. Emily loved the intricately carved staircase Charlie had crafted, as well as the curved walls of the upstairs hall and the large master bedroom. Under the stairs was a large pantry. Downstairs, the parlor was in the front of the house, which faced south, and the dining room behind it. Next to the dining room was the kitchen, with a brand new cook stove. The dining room also had a stove. All the rooms were painted in cheerful yet tranquil greens. The bead board wainscoting chair rail was painted a creamy white. There was a summer kitchen in the back, and the beginnings of a vegetable garden. Charlie had planted an apple tree as well. At the outside back of the house, under the dining room window, there was a slanted door to a root cellar where they would be able to store carrots, potatoes and turnips. On a rock at the back of the house Charlie had built a hen house, already nested with chickens from the old farm.
“There are lots of wild berries here,” Charlie told Emily as they walked across the land of their new home. There are strawberries, black raspberries, grapes and red raspberries, according to season.”
Emily nodded happily. “We can plant a gooseberry patch and red and black currants so that we can make wine. I’ll start a rhubarb patch, too. And I can see that we’ll be able to gather hickory nuts and butternuts.” She looked at the trees that stood nearby.
“I’ll build a trellis for the white rose bush,” commented Charlie. “The O’Connor roses will bloom again here.”
They had not been living in the house for long when Emily discovered that she was expecting. She was glad she had all the curtains hung since she did not want to take any risks climbing on ladders. Charlie did not want her doing any heavy work so as not to risk losing the baby. Either Annie or Ellen came over every morning to help her with the chores, and Lottie, who was teaching just across the road at Long Point school house, stopped by in the afternoon after school to help. Winter passed and it was their happiest winter ever, snug in their own house. Emily and Charlie loved being together more than ever and were never at a loss for something to talk about, sharing from the books they read.
On April 1, 1879, during Lent and on the octave day of the Annunciation, Emily gave birth to a healthy baby boy. They wanted to name him “Daniel Joseph” for Charlie’s father, but Pa asked them to name him “Fergus” after their famous cousin who was imprisoned by the English. The weather being fine, Charlie promptly brought his small son to church, accompanied by Ellen, where he was baptized “Fergus Joseph.”
CHAPTER 16
Farewell
July 30, 1884
Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy,
Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy;
Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care,
And bring back the features that joy used to wear.
─ “Scent of Roses” by Thomas Moore
Charlie leaned on the scythe, wiping away the perspiration from his face and neck with his red and white handkerchief. He pushed back his straw hat and scanned the southern horizon where his parents’ house stood. He watched for the signal, which would tell him the priest had arrived. Annie was supposed to wave the Red Ensign out one of the front windows. He was glad for the mindless, repetitive work of cutting the hay. Not only was Emily ill, having recently lost another unborn child through miscarriage, but his mother was dying.
Ma had been frail for several years, having trouble with her eyesight and her heart. But in early spring she had taken to her bed and not left it. She was not quite seventy and had survived so many childbirths that it seemed odd that she would now be dying, especially when she was so much younger than Pa. But the doctor said Ma’s heart was wholly worn out. That morning, when her breathing had become labored, they decided they had best send to Gananoque for Father MacDonald
before she lost consciousness. Pa and Lottie were continually at her side, while Annie and Ellen kept the house going. Charlie’s other sisters, Joanna, Margaret and Bridget, had arrived as well and his brother Mick. Mary was too far away although they had sent word to her so at least she could make plans to come to the funeral if she was able. He had also sent a telegraph to his Aunt Eleanor and Cousin Julia in Rochester, New York. To distract himself from the waves of grief, which made prayer difficult, he thought about his Cousin Julia’s long years of trial.
He would never forget the day three years earlier when he and Emily were recoiling from the news that Charlie’s Cousin Julia had found herself in a bigamous union because of the lies of her first husband, Patrick Ivey.
“I knew Patrick Ivey was . . . is a rascal,” declared Charlie, when they heard the news. “But I never thought he would go so far.”
“Poor Julia . . . and the children . . . and Mr. Hughes!” exclaimed Emily.
“And Aunt Eleanor! And Ma and Pa are disturbed, too, eh,” stated Charlie.
“May I read Julia’s letter again?” asked Emily.
Charlie handed her the letter. Several years earlier, motivated by Patrick’s scandalous behavior, Julia left with her mother Eleanor and her children to start over in New York State in a place called Auburn. Patrick had deserted his family and not long afterwards Julia received a telegram notifying her of Patrick’s death. After a decent interval, Julia accepted the proposal of a kindly businessman named Mr. Hughes, who treated her children as his own and provided a comfortable living. However, after five years or so, in 1881, Patrick Ivey turned up on Julia’s doorstep, claiming his marital rights. He had not died, but had himself sent the telegram announcing his fictitious death so that he could marry another woman. Mr. Hughes summoned the police and Patrick Ivey was tried, convicted and jailed for bigamy. Julia and her family were now forced to leave Auburn due to the scandal, relocating to Rochester, New York. Her children by Patrick changed their name to “Iven” so as to disassociate themselves from their father as much as possible. Charlie had long corresponded with Julia and her children, particularly her son, who looked up to him as some kind of a hero.
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