“Alonzo…Wasn’t that Don Bosco’s name?”
“You’re correct, young man. Don is an honorific used in Spain, just like Sir is used in English. It’s usually reserved for royalty, but in this case it was a self-proclaimed title of the Barbary corsair, Alonzo Bosco.”
“Al…onzo, what are you doing here?”
“I saw you two rowing out here and thought I should make sure you were safe. It’s not a good idea for two little kids to be walking around old ruins in the fog.”
“Thanks, Mr. Woods. I just wanted to see the old fort,” Meg said.
“Did you come to see an old fort or a corsair’s castle? I thought I heard you ask where the pirate treasure was.”
“You know about the treasure?” Trout and Meg said in unison.
“I know quite a bit about pirates and I’m kind of an expert on Don Bosco, you could say. Actually, his treasure is long gone.”
“Cromwell,” theorized Trout.
“On the contrary, Don Bosco’s treasure was gone long before Oliver Cromwell arrived on Inishbofin. In fact, it was moved to a new location shortly after Don Bosco was chased off the island.”
The more Meg heard Al talk, the less she could figure out where his accent was from. It was not American or British, yet his English was very proper.
“I’ve never heard any of this, and I should know. My family has been here forever,” challenged Trout.
“No one knows about the true story of Don Bosco, except me,” Al countered. He gave them a strange look of one who knows a secret. “After a long and prosperous partnership, he was double-crossed by the sea witch who drove him from Inishbofin and stole his treasure. I have been coming here for years searching for the key to find where she hid it.”
“The key, a sea witch… Who are you talking about?” asked Meg.
“I’m talking about the conniving, treacherous, pirate witch Grace O’Malley,” Alonzo said, pronouncing the name as if he was spitting out poison.
“She wasn’t a witch. She was a queen,” said Trout.
“She was a witch who enchanted Don Bosco, then double-crossed him and stole his half of their treasure,” Alonzo said, drawing nearer to the kids, his dark eyes wide. He regained his composure and said, “They had plundered a lot of gold together, nearly two million pounds. Don Bosco kept his half safe in a secret chamber below this castle, and it was guarded by a Jinn, or Genie.”
“A genie, like in Aladdin? I thought they were in Arabia in magic lamps. You’re trying to spook us!”
“Don Bosco was a Muslim Moor and the Jinn existed in their beliefs. They could be assigned the task of guarding an object.”
“Like a treasure!”
“Exactly,” Alonzo continued. “Granuaile surprised him one night with a fleet of ships and chased him from Inishbofin threatening to kill him if he ever returned to these waters. A few months afterwards, Don Bosco disguised himself as a fisherman, snuck back on the island and, much to his dismay, found that she had defeated his Jinn and stolen his plunder. She had even summoned an Irish spirit to guard the empty chamber.”
“What a story,” said Meg.
“Brilliant,” said Trout, “it all makes sense now, the old story of the priest searching for the treasure told that the voice he heard from below the ground spoke to him in Irish to stop digging. That part never made sense to me, seein’ it was a Spanish curse.”
“Indeed, Grace O’Malley was a bruja, a witch. It was her curse that guarded the secret chamber after Don Bosco left.”
Meg didn’t bother to fight with Alonzo about Granuaile, and although Trout seemed bugged, he held his tongue also. Alonzo was an archeologist and Meg decided that he could probably help them learn more about the treasure. She asked him if he could give them a tour of the fort and tell them all about it.
Alonzo walked them around the ruins explaining to them how Cromwell had turned the castle into a seventeenth-century, star-shaped fort using much of the existing castle left by Don Bosco. Originally built as a barracks for Cromwell’s army, the fort was later used to hold the clergy that they had captured. From here, the priests were sent out around the British Empire to be sold as slaves. The English held the fort for a long time and used it later on to curtail the activities of French pirates who used the harbors on the west coast of Ireland to hide out.
Alonzo showed them a well in the center courtyard, explaining that it held a hidden entrance to the secret chamber. He also said that he had located the chamber himself, but that he would not show Meg and Trout where it was. He quickly followed that up to say that when he entered the treasure room the spirit that guarded it must have left and there was no clue as to where the treasure had been moved. Alonzo was very informative yet guarded at the same time, and Meg sensed he was not telling them all he knew.
After the guided tour they walked from the fort back over the hill and to the foggy cove. Alonzo helped them into the currach and guided them back in his skiff to the other side of the harbor.
While they glided through the water Meg tried to make sense of everything she had heard. Granuaile and Don Bosco were partners and had plundered two million pounds of gold, and Grania later moved it. That was the first part that didn’t make sense to her. How in the world could anyone carry or move a million pounds of gold? That is so heavy! Also, if Granuaile beat the genie and cleared out the treasure chamber, why would she put an Irish spirit there to guard it? It was just not adding up.
“Trout, I have been thinking about all of this treasure stuff and I can’t figure out a couple of things. First of all, how could anybody carry around a million pounds of gold?”
Trout said “Why? How much do you think it weighed?”
“A million pounds.”
“Yeah. What do you think?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”
Trout looked at her and laughed so hard he nearly fell out of the boat. His laughter echoed around the harbor and Meg furrowed her brow, questioning why he was laughing.
“A million pounds…That’s brilliant. You tink it’s a weight!” He said in between laughs, “I tink he was talking about its value not the weight. Pounds was what our money was called before the Euro.”
Meg blushed and then laughed at herself, too. Soon they were left on the beach on the other side of the harbor, where they said goodbye to Al. Meg never got to ask Trout about the spirit.
19
Bald Grace
Meg’s head was racing from all she had experienced over the past two days. She had gone from her normal world of family, school, and play to one filled with banshees, selkies, genies, pirates, and treasure. Her old existence back in Connecticut was dreary in comparison to the life and history of Ireland. Although Meg didn’t know much about Grace O’Malley, she wanted to learn everything she could about her. She wondered if there was a way to figure out why she put a spirit to guard an empty chamber. Trout and Meg left the harbor and walked back to the West Quarter where Owen’s cottage and the Davin’s house were located.
When they got back to Trout’s house, his mother Nell told them that the return ferry from Cleggan had been canceled due to the fog and that Meg was to stay with the Davins for the night until her mom could return. The news didn’t bother Meg; she was still mad at her mom and she was kind of relieved to not have to go back to Owen’s dreary cottage. Besides, she wanted to learn more about Grace O’Malley, and she knew Trout was the one to tell her.
Trout and Meg headed back outside and climbed up on the stone wall that was in front of Trout’s house. They sat there a moment in silence before Meg resumed her questioning. “Trout, why is Grace O’Malley known by so many different names?”
“First of all, stop calling her Grace O’Malley. That’s the English version of her name. She’s called Granuaile. Her given name was Grania and she was the daughter of the chieftain of the O’Maille clan, the greatest sea-faring family that Ireland had ever seen. Her father was Eoghan Dubhdara O’Maille, Owen “Black Oak” O’Malley, who ru
led the land and sea just north of Bofin around Clew Bay. Grania was Owen’s only child with his wife Maeve. Owen also had a son Donal-na-Pioppa, Donal of the Pipes, who was illegitimate, but Owen treated him as his son regardless.
“Grania got the name Granuaile because, even though she was the best sailor in the O’Malley fleet, her father refused to take her on a trading trip to Spain because he said her long hair would get caught in the ships ropes. Furious and not to be stopped, Grania cut off all of her long, red hair, which took away Owen’s excuse and forced him to take her on the voyage. From then on they called her Grania Mhaol, Grania the Bald, which was shortened to Granuaile. And after that, the name stuck.”
“So Granuaile became a sea captain?” Meg asked.
“Indeed she did—the greatest and most fierce captain in Ireland.”
Meg was suddenly struck by the similarity between the story of Granuaile and that of her Nanny. They both forced an unwilling father to take them out to sea. Her thoughts jumped to the compendium, which was inscribed with the letter G! Meg grabbed Trout by the arm and dragged him to Owen’s cottage, where she pulled out the special birthday gift she had received from her grandmother. She held it up for Trout to see.
“Would ya look at that… What is it?”
“My grandmother gave it to me. It’s been handed down in our family from generation to generation. It’s an astronomical compendium.”
“An astro what?”
“It’s a tool used by sea captains to navigate the oceans. Look here, Trout, there’s a G on the front,” Meg said. With eyes aglow, she pointed to the Gaelic script G engraved in the brass.
“Oh, Megeen, you’re gonna love this next part. In order to expand their territory, Granuaile was married to Dónal Ó Flaithbheartaigh, Donal O’Flaherty. He was heir to the O’Flaherty clan who ruled Iar Connacht, all of the land of western Connemara including Inishbofin. You must be a descendant of Granuaile!”
A sudden flash of knowing flowed through Meg’s mind and she thought she felt a tingle coming from the compendium. She looked at it and then at Trout, full of pride at her newfound ancestry. At that moment she felt as if she had grown an inch taller. She held her chin high and looked out on the world with different eyes. Meg was true royalty, a descendant of the Sea Queen of Ireland. She realized her mother must have known all this because she had given her the middle name Grace!
“I’m a pirate princess!” she yelled, her voice lifting to the rafters of her great grandfather’s cottage. Trout gave her a corrective glance by raising one eyebrow. Meg thought better of what she had said. “Irish princess?”
At that, they both laughed. Meg was fascinated to learn the details of Grace O’Malley’s exploits, and so Trout recounted all he knew.
Young Grace’s early life was spent both on the Atlantic Ocean in ships and in the many castles and forts that had belonged to her family on the coast and some of the islands around Clew Bay. The O’Malleys taxed all of the fishermen who came to their coast, and they were very powerful and one of the few great seafaring families in Ireland. Grania’s knowledge of the sea became legendary and her skill was unmatched. Her parents made sure Grania was well educated. As a result of her fine education and many distant travels, Grania was very worldly and spoke several different languages.
The O’Malley clan had the gift of predicting the weather by the look of the ocean. Grania’s father Owen had taken Donal-na-Pioppa out on his galley one day to see if he had inherited the O’Malley gift, and a young Grania had come along for the ride. Looking out on the Atlantic, Donal saw nothing. But Grania looked out too, and told her father that a storm was brewing. Sure enough, one hit. When it did, Owen knew Grania was the next great O’Malley.
Eventually the time came for to be married. Her parents had found a good political match for her in Donal O’Flaherty. In ancient Ireland, marriages were more about connections and power and less about love. Granuaile had three children with Donal: Owen, Maeve, and Murrough, but she never settled down to the life of a housewife. Her nautical talent and fiery spirit eclipsed that of her husband, and before long, she was the captain of the O’Flaherty fleet. She led her family’s army and navy in many skirmishes and battles with neighboring clans, and her reputation was like that of no woman of her time. She was fearless and courageous and never sat out a fight. Her exploits in Connacht led to a ban on O’Flaherty ships in Galway harbor, reminding Meg of the old sign in that city her mother told her about, “from the ferocious O’Flahertys, may God protect us.”
Undeterred from the Galway ban and wanting to expand her power and reach, Grace decided to take her business elsewhere. She made trading voyages to Spain, Portugal, Scotland, and Ulster. On these trips Granuaile had a habit of capturing any slow-moving merchant ships she happened to come across. She continued to tax the fishermen that fished her family’s waters and so her power grew.
Granuaile’s husband Donal was prone to argument and was constantly getting into trouble himself. On one occasion he battled with a rival clan, the Joyces, and took from them one of their castles on Lough Corrib, a large lake in Galway. When the Joyces tried to take it back, Donal fought them so hard that they nicknamed him An Cullagh, “The Cock.” Donal held the fort for a while, but eventually the Joyces defeated him, killing him in battle. In honor of how ferociously he had fought, when the Joyces reclaimed their castle, they renamed it Cock’s Castle.
Granuaile’s grief and fury over her husband’s death led her to return to Cock’s Castle and take it back with an army of O’Flahertys. The battle was fierce and bloody, but Granuaile came away victorious. From then on the castle was called Caislean an Cearca, “Hens Castle,” and Granuaile held it for the rest of her days.
“Women did not inherit their husband’s land or title in those days, so with no husband, Grania was forced to move back to the O’Malley’s castle on Clare Island and back into the fold of her own clan. She was so beloved by the O’Flahertys that many took their ships and followed her to the O’Malley stronghold, remaining loyal to Granuaile herself. Her fleet was vast, indeed.
The O’Malleys now controlled most of Clew Bay and Connemara except for a small section near Newport and Rockfleet Castle that was held by Iron Richard Bourke, an Anglo-Norman aristocrat who was in line to be elected The Mac William, the second most powerful position in all of Connacht. So, to expand her lands and power, Grania married him. Their marriage was that of equals, and with Richard, she bore a son, Theobald. His nickname, “Tibbot of the Ships,” came because Granuaile gave birth to him on a ship.
The story goes that, just after childbirth, Grania’s ship came under attack by corsairs, and her men were having trouble winning without her. The captain went below to where she was nursing her newborn son and begged her to come up on deck and rally her men. Still exhausted from childbirth, Granuaile was furious that her men were powerless without her and had the audacity to ask for her help. When she went up she cried to them, “May you be seven times worse off this day next year for not being able to do without me for one day.” She stormed out in her robe with sword and pistol in hand and led her men to victory.
Every story Meg heard made her fall more in love with her unbelievable ancestor. The more she heard, the more she was mad that she had never known of Granuaile until now. How could her mother not have told her these stories? They were more amazing and fantastic then any fairy tale she had ever heard. Granuaile’s name should be as well-known throughout the world as the names of the English Queens.
“Granuile.” Meg pronounced the name as if under her magical spell. “I wish I had known about her before.”
“Maybe yer ma never knew either?” Trout replied.
“That’s impossible. She knows all about Ireland and all of the legends. She has to know about Granuaile.”
“What if she knew the legend but never made the connection?”
“Oh, Trout,” said Meg with a smile. “That has to be it! She knew nothing about her family until just recently. I can�
��t wait to tell her.”
At that moment, Trout’s mom called out from the house for them to come in for dinner.
20
A Talk Queen to Queen
The Davin’s house, although close in proximity to Meg’s great grandfather’s house, was light-years away in comfort. They had a cozy living room with a TV and a glass enclosed fireplace that was much like the one her family had at home. The house had three bedrooms: one for the parents, one for the boys Dennis and Trout, and one for the youngest Davin, Deirdre. Trout’s little sister was four years old and cute as a button, and Meg soon learned that American girls were not the only ones who came under the Disney princess spell.
Nell Davin told Meg that she would be sleeping in Deirdre’s room. When she showed it to her, it was as if Meg were stepping back in time to her own room of just a year or two earlier. The walls were covered with the same smiling faces of the princesses Meg had worshipped as a little girl. The colors pink and purple dominated the room and dolls and accessories occupied nearly every square inch. Meg was surprised to learn that little Deirdre’s favorite was Belle from Beauty and the Beast, rather than Ariel, The Little Mermaid, who was Meg’s favorite. But then, every little girl had her own reasons for loving her favorite princess.
Meg played with Deirdre in her room while waiting for dinner. She loved how Deirdre talked. The more time Meg spent in Ireland the easier it was for her to understand the Irish people she talked to. Irish accents have a speed that Meg had a hard time catching up to at first. But Meg was learning that the different tones and inflections often indicated as much meaning to the listener as the words themselves. Earlier that day, when Meg was talking to Trout, she started to feel as though her way of talking was slow. At one point, Meg asked Trout to speak with an American accent, which he did. But he came across as sounding like California surfer dude, which Meg found hilarious.
The Pirate Princess: Return to the Emerald Isle Page 11
