CHAPTER FIVE
Sunday August the 3rd 1800; it was a sunny afternoon at the King’s Head tavern in the Cork port suburb of Ringaskiddy and Fial was celebrating his seventeenth birthday with a few friends. This was unusual for Fial as he generally kept to himself. Fial was not a drinking man as he had been sworn off it by his father. He tried the poor quality whisky available but it made him feel sick so he tried beer; this had a similar effect so he drank water.
Fial would never forget this day, not for his celebration of tasting of liquor but for the sighting of tavern wench Angelina Donnelly. A fairer maiden he had never seen; at nineteen her long, blonde, curly locks fell over her shoulders as she served beer from her tray to the table. Her blue eyes pierced his face and got inside him, her ample bosom flowing out over the top of her tight corset; their eyes met and she stood looking at him for a few seconds, smiled and continued on. She was the reason most men attended the King’s Head, just to look upon her. Fial’s heart began to react and he found himself hopelessly attracted to Angelina as if she was the fairest white ship afloat. She stared at Fial every time she passed and eventually sat down next to him, he became limp and frail as she spoke to him.
"You are Fial McGuire from HMS Dryad?" asked Angelina.
"I am," replied Fial.
"They say you are a brave lad of Irish blood."
"Is that what they have been saying? I had not heard."
"My Father a clergyman of Ringaskiddy church has spoken of you. He objects to me working here but the money is good and we are struggling at home."
"Your father is clergy but has a wife and daughter."
"The social times have been hard for all with the war and all. My father works for all to encourage unity. Defining boundaries has not been a luxury he lived by. My father is a live man of god not a dead martyr. Some call him father some call him pastor he's there for all."
Fial thought for a while with a look of concentration. "That would take a lot of courage perhaps more than I could muster, I would like to meet this man. You would be the fairest maiden in the land, I too would object to you being in such a place as the Kings Head. You need not have all these brigands putting their hands upon your fair form. Something has happened inside me from my first look at you, if you were a ship I would sail the seven seas with you for all to see. I ask you take my hand and leave, I wish to get to know you." A heavy hand came down on Angelina's shoulder and she was lifted under the arm to stand, public house owner Evan McTaggert shouted in Angelina's face.
"You are not paid to sit and cohort with the British Navy. Get to work and serve liquor," shouted McTaggert. Fial shot to his feet, pushing the table over in front of him and looking straight at McTaggert, a giant of a man. The tavern went quiet.
"Unhand her!" demanded Fial. McTaggert looked puzzled.
"You are Irish."
"I am."
"In the uniform of the King’s navy – what kind of an Irishman would you be?"
"One who has fallen in love with the woman you have your hand on, let her go." A regular patron to the tavern yelled out to McTaggert.
"That be Fial McGuire of HMS Dryad." McTaggert looked at the patron who shook his head at him, he then looked back at Fial with hesitation.
"I have heard of you," said McTaggert. "I thought you would be bigger than you are. They say you have the heart of a lion. If its Angelina you are wanting then take her." McTaggert let her go. Fial led her through the silent crowd towards the door, stopping at the patron who had shouted at McTaggert, a young man in his twenties.
"Who might you be?" asked Fial.
"Dan Evans," replied the young man.
"A Welshman by the sounds."
"Oh yes Fial."
"Are you a seaman?"
"I am a merchant rating."
"I’ll remember your name, I may need you one day." Dan smiled.
"For that time I'll be waiting." Fial shook his hand and took his prize into the street. They walked along the dock shore talking and laughing until Fial could wait no longer; he took Angelina in his arms and kissed her. They eventually came to the rectory gate where Angelina lived and Fial accompanied her to the door of the modest rectory adjacent to the church. The door opened and Donnelly stood in the doorway. Fial spoke to him.
"Father Donnelly sir, I am Fial McGuire. I have come to ask that I be permitted to court your daughter Angelina."
"Fial McGuire," replied Donnelly. "Well bless my soul, come in man." Fial was led into the rectory kitchen and sat down at the bare wooden table on the stone floor. "Angelina this is sudden, what do you say of this?"
"I wish to get to know Fial for I have felt for no man before but today I have."
"Fial I ask one thing of you," said Donnelly. "Please don't break my daughter’s heart, this is the will of God and so is your way." Fial thought for a while then took Donnelly's hand across the table.
"One day a ship called the Ghost of McMurrin will sail the seas. It will be the scourge of the British navy, and if I have my way, the slave trading business as well. This thing I can no more stop than my love for your fair daughter. For if I fail or leave unfinished business, my son may not."
"These are bold and dangerous words Fial. I dreamed of a fine family man taking Angelina's hand, not a man stalking to be a legend. But this place is full of seafaring people, if the life of a sailor's wife is what Angelina wants then so be it; she never fails to get what she wants. You have my permission to court Angelina and may God be with you both."