CHAPTER XXV. A PASSING VISIT TO KILLALA
I found a very pleasant party assembled around the bishop'sbreakfast-table at Killala. The bishop and his family were all there,with Charost and his staff, and some three or four other officersfrom Ballina. Nothing could be less constrained, more easy, or moreagreeable, than the tone of intimacy which in a few days had grown upbetween them. A cordial good feeling seemed to prevail on every subject,and even the reserve which might be thought natural on the momentousevents then happening was exchanged for a most candid and frankdiscussion of all that was going forward, which, I must own, astonishedas much as it gratified me.
The march on Castlebar, the choice of the mountain-road, 'which led pastthe position occupied by the Royalists, the attack and capture of theartillery, had all to be related by me for the edification of suchas were not conversant with French; and I could observe that howeverdiscomfited by the conduct of the militia, they fully relied on theregiments of the line and the artillery. It was amusing, too, to seewith what pleasure they listened to all our disparagement of the Irishvolunteers.
Every instance we gave of insubordination or disobedience delightedthem, while our own blundering attempts to manage the people, the absurdmistakes we fell into, and the endless misconceptions of their characterand habits, actually convulsed them with laughter.
'Of course,' said the bishop to us, 'you are prepared to hear thatthere is no love lost between you, and that they are to the full asdissatisfied with you as you are dissatisfied with them?'
'Why, what can they complain of?' asked Charost, smiling; 'we gave themthe place of honour in the very last engagement!'
'Very true, you did so, and they reaped all the profit of the situation.Monsieur Tiernay had just told the havoc that grape and round shotscattered amongst the poor creatures. However, it is not of this theycomplain--it is their miserable fare, the raw potatoes, their beds inopen fields and highways, while the French, they say, eat of the bestand sleep in blankets; they do not understand this inequality, andperhaps it is somewhat hard to comprehend.'
'Patriotism ought to be proud of such little sacrifices,' said Charost,with an easy laugh; 'besides, it is only a passing endurance: a monthhence, less, perhaps, will see us dividing the spoils, and revelling inthe conquest of Irish independence.'
'You think so, colonel?' asked the bishop, half slyly.
'_Parbleu!_ to be sure I do--and you?'
'I'm just as sanguine,' said the bishop, 'and fancy that, about a monthhence, we shall be talking of all these things as matters of history;and while sorrowing over some of the unavoidable calamities of theevent, preserving a grateful memory of some who came as enemies but leftus warm friends.'
'If such is to be the turn of fortune,' said Charost, with moreseriousness than before, 'I can only say that the kindly feelings willnot be one-sided.'
And now the conversation became an animated discussion on the chances ofsuccess or failure. Each party supported his opinion ably and eagerly,and with a degree of freedom that was not a little singular to thebystanders. At last, when Charost was fairly answered by the bishop onevery point, he asked--
'But what say you to the Army of the North?'
'Simply, that I do not believe in such a force,' rejoined the bishop.
'Not believe it--not believe on what General Humbert relies at thismoment, and to which that officer yonder is an accredited messenger!When I tell you that a most distinguished Irishman, Napper Tandy----'
'Napper Tandy!' repeated the bishop, with a good-humoured smile; 'thename is quite enough to relieve one of any fears, if they ever feltthem. I am not sufficiently acquainted with your language to give himthe epithet he deserves, but if you can conceive an empty, conceitedman, as ignorant of war as of politics, rushing into a revolution forthe sake of a green uniform, and ready to convulse a kingdom that he maybe called a major-general, only enthusiastic in his personal vanity,and wanting even in that heroic daring which occasionally dignifies weakcapacities--such is Napper Tandy.'
'What in soldier-phrase we call a "Blague,"' said Charost, laughing;'I'm sorry for it.'
What turn the conversation was about to take I cannot guess, when it wassuddenly interrupted by one of the bishop's servants rushing into theroom, with a face bloodless from terror. He made his way up to where thebishop sat, and whispered a few words in his ear.
'And how is the wind blowing, Andrew?' asked the bishop, in a voice thatall his self-command could not completely steady.
'From the north, or the north-west, and mighty strong, too, my lord,'said the man, who trembled in every limb.
The affrighted aspect of the messenger, the excited expression of thebishop's face, and the question as to the 'wind,' at once suggested tome the idea that a French fleet had arrived in the bay, and that theawful tidings were neither more nor less than the announcement of ourreinforcement.
'From the north-west,' repeated the bishop; 'then, with God's blessing,we may be spared.' And so saying, he arose from the table, and with aneffort that showed that the strength to do so had only just returned tohim.
'Colonel Charost, a word with you!' said he, leading the way into anadjoining room.
'What is it?--what has happened?--what can it be?' was asked by each inturn. And now groups gathered at the windows, which all looked into thecourt of the building, now crowded with people, soldiers, servants, andcountry-folk gazing earnestly towards the roof of the castle.
'What's the matter, Terry?' asked one of the bishop's sons, as he threwopen the window.
'Tis the chimbley on fire, Master Robert,' said the man; 'the kitchenchimbley, wid those divils of Frinch!'
I cannot describe the burst of laughter that followed the explanation.
So much terror for so small a catastrophe was inconceivable; and whetherwe thought of Andrew's horrified face, or the worthy bishop's piousthanksgiving as to the direction of the wind, we could scarcely refrainfrom another outbreak of mirth. Colonel Charost made his appearance atthe instant, and although his step was hurried, and his look severe,there was nothing of agitation or alarm on his features.
'Turn out the guard, Truchet, without arms,' said he. 'Come with me,Tiernay--an awkward business enough,' whispered he, as he led me along.'These follows have set fire to the kitchen chimney, and we have threehundred barrels of gunpowder in the cave!' Nothing could be more easyand unaffected than the way he spoke this; and I actually stared athim, to see if his coldness was a mere pretence, but far from it--everygesture and every word showed the most perfect self-possession, with aprompt readiness for action.
When we reached the court, the bustle and confusion had reached itshighest, for, as the wind lulled, large masses of inky smoke hung, likea canopy, overhead, through which a forked flame darted at intervals,with that peculiar furnacelike roar that accompanies a jet of fire inconfined places. At times, too, as the soot ignited, great showers ofbright sparks floated upwards, and afterwards fell, like a fieryrain, on every side. The country-people, who had flocked in from theneighbourhood, were entirely occupied with these signs, and only intentupon saving the remainder of the house, which they believed in greatperil, totally unaware of the greater and more imminent danger closebeside them.
Already they had placed ladders against the walls, and, with ropes andbuckets, were preparing to ascend, when Truchet marched in with hiscompany, in fatigue-jackets, twenty sappers with shovels accompanyingthem.
'Clear the courtyard, now,' said Charost, 'and leave this matter to us.'
The order was obeyed somewhat reluctantly, it is true, and at last westood the sole occupants of the spot, the bishop being the only civilianpresent, he having refused to quit the spot, unless compelled by force.
The powder was stored in a long shed adjoining the stables, andoriginally used as a shelter for farming tools and utensils. A fewtarpaulins we had carried with us from the ships were spread over thebarrels, and on this now some sparks of fire had fallen, as the burningsoot had been carried in by an eddy of
wind.
The first order was, to deluge the tarpaulins with water; and while thiswas being done, the sappers were ordered to dig trenches in the garden,to receive the barrels. Every man knew the terrible peril so near him;each felt that at any instant a frightful death might overtake him, andyet every detail of the duty was carried on with the coldest unconcern;and when at last the time came to carry away the barrels, on a speciesof hand-barrow, the fellows stepped in time, as if on the march, andmoved in measure, a degree of indifference, which, to judge from thegood bishop's countenance, evidently inspired as many anxieties fortheir spiritual welfare as it suggested astonishment and admiration fortheir courage.
He himself, it must be owned, displayed no sign of trepidation, and inthe few words he spoke, or the hints he dropped, exhibited every qualityof a brave man.
At moments the peril seemed very imminent indeed. Some timber havingcaught fire, slender fragments of burning wood fell in masses, coveringthe men as they went, and falling on the barrels, whence the soldiersbrushed them off with cool indifference. The dense, thick smoke, too,obscuring every object a few paces distant, added to the confusion, andoccasionally bringing the going and returning parties into collision,a loud shout, or cry, would ensue; and it is difficult to conceive howsuch a sound thrilled through the heart at such a time. I own that morethan once I felt a choking fulness in the throat, as I heard a suddenyell, it seemed so like a signal for destruction. In removing one ofthe last barrels from the hand-barrow, it slipped, and, falling to theground, the hoops gave way, it burst open, and the powder fell out onevery side. The moment was critical, for the wind was baffling, nowwafting the sparks clear away, now whirling them in eddies around us. Itwas then that an old sergeant of grenadiers threw off his upper coat andspread it over the broken cask, while, with all the composure of a manabout to rest himself, he lay down on it, while his comrades went tofetch water. Of course his peril was no greater than that of every onearound him, but there was an air of quick determination in his act whichshowed the training of an old soldier. At length the labour was ended,the last barrel was committed to the earth, and the men, formed intoline, were ordered to wheel and march. Never shall I forget the bishop'sface as they moved past. The undersized and youthful look of oursoldiers had acquired for them a kind of depreciating estimate incomparison with the more mature and manly stature of the Britishsoldier, to whom, indeed, they offered a strong contrast on parade;but now, as they were seen in a moment of arduous duty, surroundedby danger, the steadiness and courage, the prompt obedience to everycommand, the alacrity of their movements and the fearless intrepiditywith which they performed every act, impressed the worthy bishop soforcibly, that he muttered half aloud, 'Thank Heaven there are so few ofthem!'
Colonel Charost resisted steadily the bishop's proffer to afford themen some refreshment; he would not even admit of an extra allowance ofbrandy to their messes. 'If we become too liberal for slight services,we shall never be able to reward real ones,' was his answer; and thebishop was reduced to the expedient of commemorating what he could notreward. This, indeed, he did with the most unqualified praise, relatingin the drawing-room all that he had witnessed, and lauding French valourand heroism to the very highest.
The better to conceal my route, and to avoid the chances of beingtracked, I sailed that evening in a fishing-boat for Killybegs, a smallharbour on the coast of Donegal, having previously exchanged my uniformfor the dress of a sailor, so that if apprehended I should pretend tobe an Ostend or Antwerp seaman, washed overboard in a gale at sea.Fortunately for me I was not called on to perform this part, for as mynautical experiences were of the very slightest, I should have made adeplorable attempt at the impersonation. Assuredly the fishermen of thesmack would not have been among the number of the 'imposed upon,' for amore sea-sick wretch never masqueraded in a blue jacket.
My only clue, when I touched land, was a certain Father Doogan, wholived at the foot of the Bluerock Mountains, about fifteen miles fromthe coast, and to whom I brought a few lines from one of the Irishofficers, a certain Bourke of Ballina. The road led in this direction,and so little intercourse had the shore folk with the interior, that itwas with difficulty any one could be found to act as a guide thither.At last an old fellow was discovered, who used to travel thesemountains formerly with smuggled tobacco and tea; and although, fromthe discontinuance of the smuggling trade, and increased age, he had forsome years abandoned the line of business, a liberal offer of paymentinduced him to accompany me as guide.
It was not without great misgivings that I looked at the very old andalmost decrepit creature who was to be my companion through a solitarymountain region.
The few stairs he had to mount in the little inn where I put up seemeda sore trial to his strength and chest; but he assured me that, once outof the smoke of the town, and with his foot on the 'short grass of thesheep-patch,' he'd be like a four-year-old; and his neighbour havingcorroborated the assertion, I was fain to believe him.
Determined, however, to make his excursion subservient to profit inhis old vocation, he provided himself with some pounds of tobacco anda little parcel of silk handkerchiefs, to dispose of amongst thecountry-people, with which, and a little bag of meal slung at his back,and a walking-stick in his hand, he presented himself at my door just asthe day was breaking.
'We 'll have a wet day I fear, Jerry,' said I, looking out.
'Not a bit of it,' replied he. 'Tis the spring-tides makes it cloudythere beyant; but when the sun gets up it will be a fine mornin'; but I'm thinkin' ye 're strange in them parts'; and this he said with a keen,sharp glance under his eyes.
'Donegal is new to me, I confess,' said I guardedly.
'Yes, and the rest of Ireland, too,' said he, with a roguish leer. 'Butcome along, we 've a good step before us;' and with these words heled the way down the stairs, holding the balustrade as he went, andexhibiting every sign of age and weakness. Once in the street, however,he stepped out more freely, and, before we got clear of the town, walkedat a fair pace, and, to all seeming, with perfect ease.