The Hedge School; The Midnight Mass; The Donagh Part 16

"Faith, you may depend on us, Frank, or we're not to the fore."

"I know it, boys; and now for a piece of fun for this night. You see--come, Lanty, tare-an'-ounkers, drink, man alive--you see, wid regard to Peggy Gartland--eh? what the h.e.l.l! is that a cough?"

"One o' the horses, man--go an."

"Rody, did Darby More go into the barn before you came out of it?"

"Darby More? not he. If he did, I'd a seen him surely."

"Why, thin, I'd kiss the book I seen him goin' towards the barn, as I was comin' into the stable. Sowl, he's a made boy, that; an' if I don't mistake, he's in Mike Reillaghan's intherest. You know divil a secret can escape him."

"Hut! the prayin' ould crathur was on his way to the Midnight Ma.s.s; he thravels slow, and, of coorse, has to set out early; besides, you know, he has Carols, and bades, and the likes, to sell at the chapel."

"Thrue, for you, Rody; why, I thought he might take it into his head to watch my motions, in regard that, as I said, I think him in Mike's intherest."

"Nonsense, man, what the d.i.c.kens 'ud bring him into the stable loft?

Why, you're beside yourself?"

"Be Gor, I bleeve so, but no matther. Boys, I want yez to stand to me to-night: I'm given to know for a sartinty that Mike and Peggy will be buckled to durin' the Hollydays. Now, I wish to get the girl myself; for if I don't get her, may I be ground to atoms if he will."

"Well, but how will you manage? for she's fond of him."

"Why, I'll tell you that. I was over there this evenin', and I understand that all the family is goin' to the Midnight Ma.s.s, barrin'

herself. You see, while they are all gone to the 'mallet-office,'* we'll slip down wid a thrifle o' soot on our mugs, and walk down wid her to Kilnaheery, beyant the mountains, to an uncle o' mine; an' affcher that, let any man marry her who chooses to run the risk. Be the contints o'

the book, Atty, if you don't dhrink I'll knock your head agin the wall, you gommoch!"

* Ma.s.s, humorously so called, from the fact of those who attend it beating their b.r.e.a.s.t.s during their devotions.

"Why, thin, by all that's beautiful, it's a good spree; and we'll stick to you like pitch."

"Be the vartue o' my oath, you don't desarve to be in it, or you'd dhrink dacent. Why, here's another bottle, an' maybe there's more where that was. Well, let us finish what we have, or be the five cra.s.ses, I'll give up the whole business."

"Why, thin, here's success to us, any way; an' high hangin' to them that 'ud desart you in your skame this blessed an' holy night that's in it!"

This was re-echoed by his friends, who pledged themselves by the most solemn oaths not to abandon him in the perpetration of the outrage which they had concerted. The other bottle was immediately opened, and while it lasted, the details of the plan were explained at full length. This over, they entered the barn one by one as before, except Frank and Rody, who as they were determined to steal another bottle from the father's stock, did not appear among the dancers until this was accomplished.

The re-appearance of these rollicking and reckless young fellows in the dance, was hailed by all present; for their outrageous mirth was in character with the genius of the place. The dance went on with spirit; brag dancers were called upon to exhibit in hornpipes; and for this purpose a table was bought in from Frank's kitchen on which they performed in succession, each dancer applauded by his respective party as the best in the barn.

In the meantime the night had advanced; the hour might be about half-past ten o'clock; all were in the zenith of enjoyment, when old Frank M'Kenna addressed them as follows:--

"Neighbors, the d.i.c.kens o' one o' me would like to break up the sport--an', in throth, harmless and dacent sport it is; but you all know that this is Christmas night, and that it's our duty to attind the Midnight Ma.s.s. Anybody that likes to hear it may go, for it's near time to be home and prepare for it; but the sorra one o' me wants to take any of yez from your sport, if you prefer it; all I say is, that I must lave yez; so G.o.d be wid yez till we meet agin!"

This short speech produced a general bustle in the barn; many of the elderly neighbors left it, and several of the young persons also. It was Christmas Eve, and the Midnight Ma.s.s had from time immemorial so strong a hold upon their prejudices and affections, that the temptation must indeed have been great which would have prevented them from attending it. When old Frank went out, about one-third of those who were present left the dance along with them; and as the hour for ma.s.s was approaching, they lost no time in preparing for it.

The Midnight Ma.s.s is, no doubt, a phrase familiar to our Irish readers; but we doubt whether those in the sister kingdoms, who may honor our book with a perusal, would, without a more particular description, clearly understand it.

This ceremony-was performed as a commemoration not only of the night, but of the hour in which Christ was born. To connect it either with edification, or the abuse of religion, would be invidious; so we overlook that, and describe it as it existed within our own memory, remarking, by the way, that though now generally discontinued, it is in some parts of Ireland still observed, or has been till within in a few years ago.

The parish in which the scene of this story is laid was large, consequently the attendance of the people was proportionably great.

On Christmas day a Roman Catholic priest has, or is said to have, the privilege of saying three ma.s.ses, though on every other day in the year he can celebrate but two. Each priest, then, said one at midnight, and two on the following day.

Accordingly, about twenty or thirty years ago, the performance of the Midnight Ma.s.s was looked upon as an ordinance highly important and interesting. The preparations for it were general and fervent; so much so, that not a Roman Catholic family slept till they heard it. It is true it only occurred once a year; but had any person who saw it once, been called upon to describe it, he would say that religion could scarcely present a scene so wild and striking.

The night in question was very dark, for the moon had long disappeared, and as the inhabitants of the whole parish were to meet in one spot, it may be supposed that the difficulty was very great, of traversing, in the darkness of midnight, the s.p.a.ce between their respective residences, and the place appointed by the priest for the celebration of ma.s.s. The difficulty, they contrived to surmount. From about eleven at night till twelve or one o'clock, the parish presented a scene singularly picturesque, and, to a person unacquainted with its causes, altogether mysterious. Over the surface of the surrounding country were scattered myriads of blazing torches, all converging to one point; whilst at a distance, in the central part of the parish, which lay in a valley, might be seen a broad focus of red light, quite stationary, with which one or more of the torches that moved across the fields mingled every moment. These torches were of bog-fir, dried and split for the occasion; all persons were accordingly furnished with them, and by their blaze contrived to make way across the country with comparative ease. This Ma.s.s having been especially a.s.sociated with festivity and enjoyment, was always attended by such excessive numbers, that the ceremony was in most parishes celebrated in the open air, if the weather were at all favorable. Altogether, as we have said, the appearance of the country at this dead hour of the night, was wild and impressive. Being Christmas every heart was up, and every pocket replenished with money, if it could at all be procured. This general elevation of spirits was nowhere more remarkable than in contemplating the thousands of both s.e.xes, old, young, each furnished, as before said, with a blazing flambeau of bog-fir, all streaming down the mountain sides, along the roads, or across the fields, and settling at last into one broad sheet of fire.

Many a loud laugh might then be heard ringing the night echo into reverberation; mirthful was the gabble in hard guttural Irish; and now and then a song from some one whose potations had been, rather copious, would rise on the night-breeze, to which a chorus was subjoined by a dozen voices from the neighboring groups.

On pa.s.sing the shebeen and public-houses, I the din of mingled voices that issued from them was highly amusing, made up, as it was, of songs, loud talk, rioting and laughter, with an occasional sound of weeping from some one who had become penitent in big drink. In the larger public-houses--for in Ireland there usually are one or two of these in the immediate vicinity of each chapel, family parties were a.s.sembled, who set in to carouse both before and after ma.s.s. Those however, who had any love affair on hands generally selected the shebeen house, as being private, and less calculated to expose them to general observation. As a matter of course, these jovial orgies frequently produced such disastrous consequences, both to human life and female reputation, that the intrigues between the s.e.xes, the quarrels, and violent deaths resulting from them, ultimately occasioned the discontinuance of a ceremony which was only productive of evil. To this day, it is an opinion among the peasantry in many parts of Ireland, that there is something unfortunate connected with all drinking bouts held upon Christmas Eve. Such a prejudice naturally arises from a recollection of the calamities which so frequently befell many individuals while Midnight Ma.s.ses were in the habit of being generally celebrated, although it is not attributed to their existence.

None of Frank M'Kenna's family attended ma.s.s but himself and his wife.

His children having been bound by all the rules of courtesy to do the honors of the dance, could not absent themselves from it; nor, indeed, were they disposed to do so. Frank, however, and his "good woman,"

carried their torches, and joined the crowds which flocked to this scene of fun and devotion.

When they had arrived at the cross-roads beside which the chapel was situated, the first object that presented itself so prominently as to attract observation was Darby More, dressed out in all his paraphernalia of blanket and horn, in addition to which he held in his hand an immense torch, formed into the figure of a cross. He was seated upon a stone, surrounded by a ring of old men and women, to whom he sang and sold a variety of Christmas Carols, many of them rare curiosities in their way, inasmuch as they were his own composition. A littlee beyond them stood Mike Keillaghan and Peggy Gartland, towards both of whom he cast from time to time a glance of latent humor and triumph. He did not simply confine himself to singing his carols, but, during the pauses of the melody, addressed the wondering and attentive crowd as follows:--

"Good Christians--This is the day--howandiver, it's night now, Glory be to G.o.d--that the angel Lucifer appeared to Shud'orth, Meeshach, an'

To-bed-we-go, in the village of Constantinople, near Jerooslem. The heavens be praised for it, 'twas a blessed an' holy night, an' remains so from that day to this--Oxis doxis glorioxis, Amin! Well, the sarra one of him but appeared to thim at the hour o' midnight, but they were asleep at the time, you see, and didn't persave him go--wid that he pulled out a horn like mine--an', by the same token, it's lucky to wear horns about one from that day to this--an' he put it to his lips, an'

tuck a good dacent--I mane, gave a good dacent blast that soon roused them. 'Are yez asleep?' says he, when they awoke: 'why then, bud-an'-age!' says he, 'isn't it a burnin' shame for able stout fellows like yez to be asleep at the hour o' midnight of all hours o' the night.

Tare-an'-age!' says he, 'get up wid yez, you dirty spalpeens! There's St. Pathrick in Jerooslem beyant; the Pope's signin' his mittimus to Ireland, to bless it in regard that neither corn, nor barley, nor phaties will grow on the land in consequence of a set of varmints called Black-dugs that ates it up; an' there's not a gla.s.s o' whiskey to be had in Ireland for love or money,' says Lucifer. 'Get up wid yez,'

says he, 'an' go in an' get his blessin'; sure there's not a Catholic-in the counthry, barrin' Swaddlers, but's in the town by this,' says he: 'ay, an' many of the Protestants themselves, and the Black-mouths, an'

Blue-bellies, (* Different denominations of Dissenters) are gone in to get a share of it. And now,' says he, 'bekase you wor so heavy-headed, I ordher it from this out, that the present night is to be obsarved in the Catholic church all over the world, an' must be kept holy; an' no thrue Catholic ever will miss from this pariod an opportunity of bein' awake at midnight,' says he, 'glory be to G.o.d!' An' now, good Christians, you have an account o' the blessed Carol I was singin' for yez. They're but hapuns a-piece; an' anybody that has the grace to keep one o' these about them, will never meet wid sudden deaths or accidents, sich as hangin', or drownin', or bein' taken suddenly wid a configuration inwardly. I wanst knew a holy man that had a dhrame--about a friend of his, it was----Will any of yez take one?--

"Thank you, a colleen: my blessin', the bless-in' o' the pilgrim, be an you! G.o.d bless you, Mike Reillaghan; an' I'm proud that he put it into your heart to buy one for the rasons you know. An' now that Father Hoolaghan's comin', any of yez that 'ill want them 'ill find me here agin when ma.s.s is over--Oxis doxis glorioxis, Amin!"

The priest at this time made his appearance, and those who had been a.s.sembled on the cross-roads joined the crowd at the chapel. No sooner was it bruited among them that their pastor had arrived, than the noise, gabble, singing, and laughing were immediately hushed; the shebeen and public-houses were left untenanted; and all flocked to the chapel-green, where ma.s.s was to be said, as the crowd was too large to be contained within the small chapel.

Mike Reillaghan and Peggy Gartland were among the last who sought the "green;" as lovers, they probably preferred walking apart, to the inconvenience of being jostled by the mult.i.tude. As they sauntered on slowly after the rest, Mike felt himself touched on the shoulder, and on turning round, found Darby More beside him.

"It's painful to my feelin's," observed the mendicant, "to have to say this blessed night that your father's son should act so shabby an'

ondacent."

"Saints above! how, Darby?"

"Why, don't you know that only for me--for what I heard, an' what I tould you--you'd not have the purty girl here at your elbow? Wasn't it, as I said, his intintion to come and whip down the colleen to Kilnaheery while the family 'ud be at ma.s.s; sure only for this, I say, you bosthoon, an' that I made you bring her to ma.s.s, where 'ud the purty colleen be? why half way to Kilnaheery, an' the girl disgraced for ever!"

"Thrue for you, Darby, I grant it: but what do you want me to do?"

"Oh, for that matther, nothin' at all, Mike; only I suppose that when your tailor made the clothes an you, he put no pockets to them?"

"Oh, I see where you are, Darby! well, here's a crown for you; an' when Peggy an' I's made man and wife, you'll get another."

"Mike, achora, I see you are your father's son still; now listen to me: first you needn't fear sudden death while you keep that blessed Carol about you; next get your friends together goin' home, for Frank might jist take the liberty, wid about a score of his 'boys,' to lift her from you even thin. Do the thing, I say--don't thrust him; an' moreover, watch in her father's house tonight wid your friends. Thirdly, make it up wid Frank; there's an oath upon you both, you persave? Make it up wid him, if he axes you: don't have a broken oath upon you; for if you refuse, he'll put you out o' connection, (* That is, out of connection with Ribbonism) an' that 'ud plase him to the back-bone."

Mike felt the truth and shrewdness of this advice, and determined to follow it. Both young men had been members of an illegal society, and in yielding to their pa.s.sions so far as to a.s.sault each other, had been guilty of perjury. The following Christmas-day had been appointed by their parish Delegates to take the quarrel into consideration; and the best means of escaping censure was certainly to express regret for what had occurred, and to terminate the hostility by an amicable adjustment of their disputes.

They had now reached the chapel-green, where the scene that presented itself was so striking and strange, that we will give the reader an imperfect sketch of its appearance. He who stood at midnight upon a little mount which rose behind the chapel, might see between five and six thousand torches, all blazing together, and forming a level ma.s.s of red dusky light, burning against the dark horizon. These torches were so close to each other that their light seemed to blend, as if they had const.i.tuted one wide surface of flame; and nothing could be more preternatural-looking than the striking and devotional countenances of those who were a.s.sembled at their midnight worship, when observed beneath this canopy of fire. The Ma.s.s was performed under the open sky, upon a table covered with the sacrificial linen, and other apparatus for the ceremony. The priest stood, robed in white, with two large torches on each side of his book, reciting the prayers in a low, rapid voice, his hands raised, whilst the congregation were hushed and bent forward in the reverential silence of devotion, their faces touched by the strong blaze of the torches into an expression of deep solemnity. The scenery about the place was wild and striking; and the stars, scattered thinly over the heavens, twinkled with a faint religious light, that blended well with the solemnity of this extraordinary worship, and rendered the rugged nature of the abrupt cliffs and precipices, together with the still outline of the stern mountains, sufficiently visible to add to the wildness and singularity of the ceremony. In fact, there was an unearthly character about it; and the spectre-like appearance of the white-robed priest as he

"Muttered his prayer to the midnight air,"

would almost impress a man with the belief that it was a meeting of the dead, and that the priest was repeating, like the Gray Friar, his