in the twenty-four hours, of oatmeal and water. They have liberty to
refresh themselves with the water of the lake, which, as Roth says, 'is
of such virtue, that though thou shouldst fill thyself with it, yet
will it not offend; but is as if it flowed from some mineral.'
“The pilgrims at night lodge or lie on straw, without pillow or pallet,
rolling themselves in their mantles, and wrapping their heads in their
breeches; only on some one of the eight nights they must lie on one of
the saints' beds, whichever they like.”
* * * * *
I was, at the time of performing this station, in the middle of
my nineteenth year--of quick perception--warm imagination--a mind
peculiarly romantic--a morbid turn for devotion, and a candidate for the
priesthood, having been made slightly acquainted with Latin, and more
slightly still with Greek.
At this period, however, all my faculties merged like friendly streams
into the large current of my devotion. Of religion I was completely
ignorant, although I had sustained a very conspicuous part in the
devotions of the family, and signalized myself frequently; by taking
the lead in a rosary. I had often out-prayed and out-fasted an old
circulating pilgrim, who occasionally visited our family; a feat on
which few would have ventured; and I even arrived to such a pitch of
perfection at praying, that with the assistance of young and powerful
lungs, I was fully able to distance him at any English prayer in which
we joined. But in Latin, I must allow, that owing to my imperfect
knowledge of its pronunciation, and to some twitches of conscience I
felt on adventuring to imitate, him by overleaping this impediment, he
was able to throw me back a considerable distance in his turn; so that
when we both started for a _De Profundis_, I was always sure to come
in second. Owing to all this I was considered a young man of promise,
being, moreover, as my master often told my father, a youth of
prodigious parts and great cuteness. Indeed, on this subject my master's
veracity could not be questioned; because when I first commenced Latin,
I was often heard repeating the prescribed tasks in my sleep. Many of
his relations had already, even upon the strength of my prospective
priesthood, begun to claim relationship with our family, and before I
was nineteen, I found myself godfather to a dozen godsons and as many
god-daughters; every one of whom I had with unusual condescension
taken under my patronage; and most of the boys were named after myself.
Finding that I was thus responsible for so much, in the opinion of my
friends, and having the aforesaid character of piety to sustain, I found
it indispensable to make the pilgrimage. Not that I considered myself a
sinner, or by any means bound to go from that motive, for although the
opinion of my friends, as to my talents and sanctity, was exceedingly
high, yet, I assure you, it cut but a very indifferent figure, when
compared with my own on both these subjects.
I very well remember that the first sly attempt I ever made at a miracle
was in reference to Lough Derg; I tried it by way of preparation for
my pilgrimage. I heard that there had been a boat lost there, about the
year 1796, and that a certain priest who was in her as a passenger, had
walked very calmly across the lake to the island, after the bout and the
rest of the passengers in her had all gone to the bottom. Now, I had,
from my childhood, a particular prejudice against sailing in a boat,
although Dick Darcy, a satirical and heathenish old bachelor, who never
went to Mass, used often to tell me, with a grin which I was never able
rightly to understand, that I might have no prejudice against sailing,
“because,” Dick would say, “take my word for it, you'll never die by
drowning.” At all events, I thought to myself, that should any such
untoward accident occur to me, it would be no unpleasant circumstance
to imitate the priest; but that it would be infinitely more agreeable
to make the first experiment in a marl-pit, on my father's farm, than
on the lake. Accordingly, after three days' fasting, and praying for the
power of not sinking in the water, I slipped very quietly down to the
pit, and after reconnoitering the premises, to be sure there was no
looker-on, I approached the brink. At this moment my heart beat high
with emotion, my soul was wrapt up to a most enthusiastic pitch
of faith, and my whole spirit absorbed in feelings, where
hope--doubt--gleams of uncertainty--visions of future eminence--twitches
of fear--reflections on my expertness in swimming--on the success of the
water-walking priest afore-mentioned--and on the depth of the pond--had
all insisted on an equal share of attention. At the edge of the pit grew
large water-lilies, with their leaves spread over the surface; it is
singular to reflect upon what slight and ridiculous circumstances
the mind will seize, when wound up in this manner to a pitch of
superstitious absurdity. I am really ashamed, even whilst writing this,
of the confidence I put for a moment in a treacherous water-lily, as its
leaf lay spread so smoothly and broadly over the surface of the pond, as
if to lure my foot to the experiment. However, after having stimulated
myself by a fresh pater and ave, I advanced, my eyes turned up
enthusiastically to heaven--my hands resolutely clenched--my
teeth locked together--my nerves set--and my whole soul strong in
confidence--I advanced, I say, and lest I might give myself time to cool
from this divine glow, I made a tremendous stride, planting my right
foot exactly in the middle of the treacherous water-lily leaf, and
the next moment was up to the neck in water. Here was devotion cooled.
Happily I was able to bottom the pool, or could swim very well, if
necessary; so I had not much difficulty in getting out. As soon as I
found myself on the bank, I waited not to make reflections, but with a
rueful face set off at full speed for my father's house, which was not
far distant; the water all the while whizzing out of nay clothes, by
the rapidity of the motion, as it does from a water-spaniel after having
been in that element. It is singular to think what a strong authority
vanity has over the principles and passions in the weakest and strongest
moments of both; I never was remarkable, at that open, ingenuous period
of my life, for secrecy; yet did I now take especial care not to invest
either this attempt at the miraculous, or its concomitant failure, with
anything like narration. It was, however, an act of devotion that had
a vile effect on my lungs, for it gave me a cough that was intolerable;
and I never felt the infirmities of humanity more than in this ludicrous
attempt to get beyond them; in which, by the way, I was nearer being
successful than I had intended, though in a different sense. This
happened a month before I started for Lough Derg.
It was about six o'clock of a delightful morning in the pleasant month
of July, when I set out upon my pilgrimage, with a single change of
linen in my pocket, and a pair of discarded shoes upon my bare feet;
for, in compliance with the general rule, I wore no stockings. The sun
looked down upon all nature with great good humor; everything smiled
around me; and as I passed for a few miles across an upland country
which stretched down from a chain of dark rugged mountains that lay
westward, I could not help feeling, although the feeling was indeed
checked--that the scene was exhilarating. The rough upland was in
several places diversified with green spots of cultivated land, with
some wood, consisting of an old venerable plantation of mountain pine,
that hung on the convex sweep of a large knoll away to my right,--with
a broad sheet of lake that curled to the fresh arrowy breeze of morning,
on which a variety of water-fowl were flapping their wings or skimming
along, leaving a troubled track on the peaceful waters behind them;
there were also deep intersections of precipitous or sloping glens,
graced with hazel, holly, and every description of copse-wood. On other
occasions I have drunk deeply of pleasure, when in the midst of this
scenery, bearing about me the young, free, and bounding spirit, its
first edge of enjoyment unblunted by the collision of base minds and
stony hearts, against which experience jostles us in maturer life.
The dew hung shining upon the leaves, and fell in pattering showers
from the trees, as a bird, alarmed at my approach, would spring from the
branch and leave it vibrating in the air behind her; the early challenge
of the cock grouse, and the _quick-go-quick_ of the quail, were
cheerfully uttered on all sides. The rapid martins twittered with
peculiar glee, or, in the light caprice of their mirth, placed
themselves for a moment upon the edge of a scaur, or earthly precipice,
in which their nests were built, and then shot up again to mingle with
the careering and joyful flock that cut the air in every direction.
Where is the heart which could not enjoy such a morning scene? Under any
other circumstances it would have enchanted me; but here, in fact,
that intensity of spirit which is necessary to the due contemplation of
beautiful prospects, was transferred to a gloomier object. I was under
the influence of a feeling quite new to me. It was not pleasure, nor was
it pain, but a chilliness of soul which proceeded from the gloomy and
severe task that I had undertaken--a task which, when I considered the
danger and the advantages annexed to its performance, was sufficient to
abstract me from every other object. It was really the first exercise
of that jealous spirit of mistaken devotion which keeps the soul in
perpetual sickness, and invests the innocent enjoyments of life with
a character of sin and severity. It was this gloomy feeling that could
alone have strangled in their birth those sensations which the wisdom
of God has given as a security in some degree against sin, by opening
to the heart of man sources of pleasure, for which the soul is not
compelled to barter away her innocence, as in those of a grosser nature.
I may be wrong in analyzing the sensation, but for the first time in my
life I felt anxious and unhappy; yet, according to my own opinions, I
should have been otherwise. I was startled at what I experienced, and
began to consider it as a secret intimation that I had chosen a wrong
time for my journey. I even felt as if it would not prosper--as if some
accident or misfortune would befall me ere my return. The boat might
sink, as in 1796: this was quite alarming. The miraculous experiment
on the pond here occurred to me with full force, and came before my
imagination in a new point of view. The drenching I got had a deep
and fearful meaning. It was ominous--it was prophetic,--and sent by a
merciful Providence to deter me from attending the pilgrimage at this
peculiar time--perhaps on this particular day: to-morrow the spell might
be broken, the danger past, and the difference of a single day could be
nothing. Just at this moment an unlucky hare, starting from an adjoining
thicket, scudded across my path, as if to fill up the measure of these
ominous predictions. I paused, and my foot was on the very turn to the
rightabout, when instantly a thought struck me which produced a reaction
in my imagination. Might not all this be the temptation of the devil,
suggested to prevent me from performing this blessed work? not the hare
itself be some------? In short, the counter-current carried me with
it. I had commenced my journey, and every one knows that when a man
commences a journey it is unlucky to turn back. On I went, but still
with a subdued and melancholy tone of feeling. If I met a cheerful
countryman, his mirth found no kindred spirit in me: on the contrary,
my taciturnity seemed to infect him; for, after several ineffectual'
attempts at conversation, he gradually became silent, or hummed a tune
to himself, and, on parting, bade me a short, doubtful kind of good day,
looking over his shoulder, as he departed, with a face of scrutiny and
surprise.
After getting five or six miles across the country, I came out on one
of these by-roads which run independently of all advantages of locality,
“up hill and down dale,” from one little obscure village to another.
These roads are generally paved with round broad stones, laid curiously
together in longitudinal rows like the buttons on a schoolboy's jacket;
Owing to the infrequency of travellers on them, they are quite overgrown
with grass, except in one stripe along the middle, which is kept naked
by the hoofs of horses and the tread of foot passengers. There is some
tradition connected with these roads, or the manner of their formation,
which I do not remember.
At last I came out upon the main road; and you will be pleased to
imagine to yourself the figure of a tall, gaunt, gawkish young man,
dressed in a good suit of black cloth, with shirt and cravat like snow,
striding solemnly along, without shoe or stocking; for about this time I
was twelve miles from home, and blisters had already risen upon my feet,
in consequence of the dew having got into my shoes, which at the best
were enough to cut up any man; I had therefore to strip and carry my
shoes--one in my pocket, and another stuffed in my hat; being thus with
great reluctance compelled to travel barefoot: yet I soon turned even
this to account, when I reflected that it would enhance the merit of
my pilgrimage, and that every fresh blister would bring down a fresh
blessing. 'Tis true I was nettled to the soul, on perceiving the face
of a laborer on the way-side, or of a traveller who met me, gradually
expanding into a broad sarcastic grin, as such an unaccountable figure
passed him. But these I soon began to suspect were Protestant grins;
for none but heretics would presume by any means to give me a sneer. The
Catholics taking me for a priest, were sure to doff their hats to me; or
if they wore none, as is not unfrequent when at labor, they would catch
their forelocks with their finger and thumb, and bob down their heads
in the act of veneration. This attention of my brethren more than
compensated for the mirth of all other sects; in fact, their mistaking
me for a priest began to give me a good opinion of myself, and perfectly
reconciled me to the fatiguing severity of the journey.
I have had occasion to remark, while upon this pilgrimage, or rather
long afterwards,--for I was but little versed then in the science of
reflection--that it is impossible to calculate upon the capabilities
of either body or mind, until they are drawn out by some occasion of
peculiar interest, in which those of either or both are thrown upon
their own energies and resources. In my opinion, the great secret or
the directing principle of all enterprise rests in the motive of action;
for, whenever a suitable interest can be given to the principles of
human conduct, the person bound by, and feeling that interest will not
only perform as much as could possibly be expected from his natural
powers, but he will recruit his energies by drawing in all the
adventitious aid which the various relations of that interest, as they
extend to other objects, are capable of affording him. It was amazing,
for instance, to observe the vigor and perseverance with which feeble,
sickly old creatures, performed the necessary austerities of this
dreadful pilgrimage;--creatures, who if put to the same fatigue, on any
other business, would at once sink under it; but the motive supplied
energy, and the infirmities of nature borrowed new strength from the
deep and ardent devotion of the spirit.
The first that I suspected of being fellow pilgrims were two women whom
I overtook upon the way. They were dressed in gray cloaks, striped red
and blue petticoats; drugget, or linseywoolsey gowns, that came within
about three inches of their ankles. Each had a small white bag slung at
her back, which contained the scanty provisions for the journey, and the
oaten cakes, crisp and hard-baked, for the pilgrimage to the lake. The
hoods of their cloaks fell down their backs, and each dame had a spotted
cotton kerchief pinned around her _dowd_ cap at the chin, whilst the
remainder of it fell down the shoulders, over the cloaks. Each had also
a staff in her hand, which she held in a manner peculiar to a travelling
woman--that is, with her hand round the upper end of it, her right thumb
extended across its head, and her arm, from the elbow down, parallel
with the horizon. The form of each, owing to the want of that spinal
strength and vigor which characterize the erect gait of man, was bent a
little forward, and this, joined to the idea produced by the nature
of their journey, gave to them something of an ardent and devoted
character, such as the mind and eye would seek for in a pilgrim, I saw
them at some distance before me, and knew by the staves and white bags
behind them that they were bound for Lough Derg. I accordingly stretched
out a little that I might overtake them; for in consequence of the
absorbing nature of my own reflections, my journey had only been a
solitary one, and I felt that society would relieve me. I was not a
little surprised, however, on finding that as soon as I topped one
height of the road, I was sure to find my two old ladies a competent
distance before me in the hollow (most of the northern roads are of this
nature), and that when I got to the bottom, I was as sure to perceive
their heads topping the next hill, and then gradually sinking out of
my sight. I was surprised at this, and perhaps a little nettled, that a
fresh active young fellow should not have sufficient mettle readily to
overtake two women. I did stretch out, therefore, with some vigor, yet
it was not till after a chase of two miles or so that I found myself
abreast of them. As soon as they noticed me they dropped a curtesy each,
addressing me at the same time as a clergyman, and I returned their
salutation with all due gravity. Upon my inquiring how far they had
travelled that day, it appeared that they had actually performed a
journey seven miles longer than mine: “We needn't ax your Reverence if
you're for the Islan'?” said one of them. “I am,” I replied, not caring
to undeceive her as to my Reverentiality.
The truth was, in the midst of all my sanctity I felt proud of the old
woman's mistake as to my priesthood, and really had not so much ready
virtue about me, on the occasion, as was sufficient to undeceive her.
I was even thankful to her for the inquiry, and thought, on a
closer inspection, I perceived an uncommon portion of good sense and
intelligence in her face. “My very excellent, worthy woman,” said I,
“how is it that you are able to travel at such a rate, when one would
suppose you should be fatigued by this time, after so long a journey?”
“Musha?” said she, “but your Reverence ought to know that.”--I felt
puzzled at this: “How should I know it?” said I.
“I'm sure,” she continued, “you couldn't expect a poor ould crathur o'
sixty to travel at this rate, at all at all; except for raisons, your
Reverence:”--looking towards me quite confidently and knowingly. This
was still more oracular, and I felt very odd under it; my character for
devotion was at stake, and I feared that the old lady was drawing me
into a kind of vicious circle. “Your Reverence knows, that for the likes
o' me, that can hardly move to the market of a Saturday, Lord help me!
an' home agin, for to travel at this rate, would be impossible, any
how, except,” she added, “for what I'm carryin', sir, blessed be God for
it!”--peering at me again with more knowing and triumphant look.
“Why that's true,” said I, thoughtfully; and then, assuming a bit of
the sacerdotal privilege, and suddenly raising my voice, though I was as
innocent as the child unborn of her meaning,--“that's true; but now
as you appear to be a sensible, pious woman, I hope you-understand the
nature of what you are carrying--and in a proper manner, too, for you
know that's the chief point.”
“Why, Father dear, I do my best, avourneen; an' I ought of a sartinty to
know it, bekase blessed Friar Hagan spent three dys instructin' Mat and
myself in it; an' more betoken, that Mat sent him a sack o' phaties,
an' a bag of oats for his trouble, not forgettin' the goose he got
from myself, the Micklemas afther.--Arrah how long is that ago, Katty
a-haygur?” said she, addressing her companion.
“Ten years,” said Katty. “Oh! it's more, I'm thinkin'; it's ten years
since poor Dick, God rest his sowl, died, and this was full two years
afore that: but no matther, agra, I'll let your Reverence hear the
prayer, at any rate.” She here repeated a beautiful Irish prayer to the
Blessed Virgin, of which that beginning with “Hail, holy Queen!” in the
Roman Catholic prayer-books is a translation, or perhaps the original.
While she was repeating the prayer, I observed her hand in her bosom,
apparently extricating something, which, on being brought out, proved
to be a scapular; she held it up, that I might see it: “Your Reverence,”
said she, “this is the ninth journey of the kind I made: but you don't
wonder now, I bleeve, how stoutly I'm able to stump it.”
“You really do stump it stoutly, as you' say,” I replied.
“Ay,” said she, “an' not a wan' o' me but's as weak as a cat, at home
scarce can put a hand to any thing; but then, your Reverence, my eldest
daughter, Ellish, jist minds the house, an' lots the ould mother mind
the prayers, as I'm not able to do a hand's turn, worth namin'.”
“But you appear to be stout and healthy,” I observed, “if a person may
judge by your looks.”
“Glory be to them that giv it to me then! that I am at the present time,
_padre dheelish_. But don't you know I'm always so durin' this journey;
I've a wicket heart-burn that torments the very life out o' me, all the
year round till this; and what 'ud your Reverence think, but it's sure
to lave me, clear and clane, and a fortnight or so afore I come here; I
never wanst feels a bit iv it, while I rouse and prepare myself for the
Island, nor for a month after I come here agen, Glory be to God.”
She then turned to her companion, and commenced, in a voice half
audible--“Musha! Katty a-haygur, did ye iver lay your two livin' eyes
on so young a priest? a sweet and holy crathur he is, no doubt, and has
goodness in his face, may the Lord bless him!”
“Musha!” said she, “surely your Reverence can't be long afther bein'
ordained, I'm thinkin'?”
“Well, that's very strange,” said I, evading her, “so you tell me your
heartburn leaves you, and that you get stout every year about the time
of your pilgrimage?”
“An' troth an' I do!--hut! what am I sayin'? Indeed, sir, may be that's
more than I can say, either, your Reverence: but for sartin'it is”--
“Do you mean that you do, or that you do not?” I inquired.
“Indeed, your Reverence, you jist hot it--the Lord bless you, and spare
you to the parents that reared ye; an' proud people may they be at
having the likes of 'im, Katty avourneen”--turning abruptly to Katty,
that she might disarm my interogatories on this tender subject with a
better grace--“proud people, as I said afore, the Lord may spare him to
them!”
We here topped a little hill, and saw the spire of a steeple, and the
skirts of a country town, which a passenger told us was about three
miles distant.