During all this time the heart-broken widow sat beyond the coffin, looking upon what pa.s.sed with a stupid sense of bereavement; and when they had all performed this last ceremony, it was found necessary to tell her that the time was come for the procession of the funeral, and they only waited for; her to take, as the rest did, her last look and embrace of her husband. When she heard this, it pierced her like an arrow; she became instantly collected, and her complexion a.s.sumed a dark shade of despairing anguish, which it was an affliction even to look upon, one then stooped over the coffin, and kissed him several times, after which she ceased sobbing, and lay silently with her mouth to his.

The character of a faithful wife sorrowing for a beloved husband has that in it which compels both respect and sympathy. There was not at this moment a dry eye in the house. She still lay silent on the coffin; but, as I observed that her bosom seemed not to heave as it did a little before, I was convinced that she had become insensible. I accordingly beckoned to Kelly's brother, to whom I mentioned what I had suspected; and on his going over to ascertain the truth, he found her as I had said. She was then brought to the air, and after some trouble--recovered; but I recommended them to put her to bed, and not to subject her to any unnecessary anguish, by a custom which was really too soul-piercing to endure. This, however, was, in her opinion, the violation of an old rite, sacred to her heart and affections--she would not hear of it for an instant. Again she was helped out between her brother and brother-in-law; and, after stooping down, and doing as the others had done--

"Now," said she, "I will sit here, and keep him under my eye as long as I can--surely you won't blame me for it; you all know the kind husband he was to me, and the good right I have to be sorry for him! Oh!" she added, "is it thrue at all?--is he, my own Denis, the young husband of my early--and my first love, in good airnest, dead, and going to leave me here--me, Denis, that you loved so tindherly, and our childher, that your brow was never clouded aginst? Can I believe myself or is it a dhrame? Denis, _avick machree! avick machree!_* your hand was dreaded, and a good right it had, for it was the manly hand, that was ever and always raised in defence of them that wanted a friend; abroad, in the faction-fight, against the oppressor, your name was ever feared, acushla?--but at home--at home--where was your fellow Denis, agrah, do you know the lips that's spaking to you?--your young bride--your heart's light--Oh! I remimber the day you war married to me like yesterday. Oh!

avourneen, then and since wasn't the heart of your own Honor bound up in you--yet not a word even to me. Well, agrah, machree, 'tisn't your fault, it's the first time you ever refused to spake to your own Honor.

But you're dead, avourneen, or it wouldn't be so--you're dead before my eyes--husband of my heart, and all my hopes and happiness goes into the coffin and the grave along wid you, forever!"

* Son of my heart! Son of my heart!

All this time she was rocking herself from side to side, her complexion pale and ghastly as could be conceived, and the tears streaming from her eyes. When the coffin was about to be closed, she retired until it was nailed down, after which she returned with her bonnet and cloak on her, ready to accompany it to the grave. I was astonished--for I thought she could not have walked two steps without a.s.sistance; but it was the custom, and to neglect it, I found, would have thrown the imputation of insincerity upon her grief. While they were preparing to bring the coffin out, I could hear the chat and conversation of those who were standing in crowds before the door, and occasionally a loud, vacant laugh, and sometimes a volley of them, responsive to the jokes of some rustic wit, probably the same person who acted master of the revels at the wake.

Before the coffin was finally closed, Ned Corrigan, whom I had put to flight the preceding night, came up, and repeated the De Profundis, in very strange Latin, over the corpse. When this was finished, he got a jug of holy water, and after dipping his thumb in it, first made the sign of the cross upon his own forehead, and afterwards sprinkled it upon all present, giving my brother and myself an extra compliment, supposing, probably, that we stood most in need, of it. When this was over, he sprinkled the corpse and the coffin in particular most profusely. He then placed two pebbles from Lough Derg* and a bit of holy candle, upon the breast of the corpse, and having said a Pater and Ave, in which he was joined by the people, he closed the lid and nailed it down.

* Those who make a station at Lough Derg are in the habit of bringing home some of its pebbles, which are considered to be sacred and possessed of many virtues.

"Ned," said his brother, "are his feet and toes loose?"

"Musha, but that's more than myself knows," replied Ned--"Are they, Katty?" said he, inquiring from the sister of the deceased.

"Arrah, to be sure, avourneen!" answered Katty--"do you think we would lave him to be tied that way, when he'd be risin' out of his last bed at the day of judgment? Wouldn't it be too bad to have his toes tied thin, avourneen?"

The coffin was then brought out and placed upon four chairs before the door, to be keened; and, in the mean time, the friends and well-wishers of the deceased were brought into the room to get each a gla.s.s of whiskey, as a token of respect. I observed also, that such as had not seen any of Kelly's relations until then, came up, and shaking hands with them, said--"I'm sorry for your loss!" This expression of condolence was uniform, and the usual reply was, "Thank you, Mat, or Jim!" with a pluck of the skirt, accompanied by a significant nod, to follow. They then got a due share of whiskey; and it was curious, after they came out, their faces a little flushed, and their eyes watery with the strong, ardent spirits, to hear with what heartiness and alacrity they entered into Denis's praises.

When he had been keened in the street, there being no hoa.r.s.e, the coffin was placed upon two handspikes, which were fixed across, but parallel to each other under it. These were borne by four men, one at the end of each, with the point of it crossing his body a little below his stomach; in other parts of Ireland, the coffin is borne upon a bier on the shoulders, but this is more convenient and less distressing.

When we got out upon the road, the funeral was of great extent--for Kelly had been highly respected. On arriving at the merin which bounded the land he had owned, the coffin was laid down, and a loud and wailing keene took place over it. It was again raised, and the funeral proceeded in a direction which I was surprised to see it take, and it was not until an acquaintance of my brother's had explained the matter that I understood the cause of it. In Ireland when a murder is perpetrated, it is sometimes usual, as the funeral proceeds to the grave-yard, to bring the corpse to the house of him who committed the crime, and lay it down at his door, while the relations of the deceased kneel down, and, with an appaling solemnity, utter the deepest, imprecations, and invoke the justice of heaven on the head of the murderer. This, however, is generally omitted if the residence of the criminal be completely out of the line of the funeral, but if it be possible, by any circuit, to approach it, this dark ceremony is never omitted. In cases where the crime is doubtful, or unjustly imputed, those who are thus visited come out, and laying their right hand upon the coffin, protest their innocence of the blood of the deceased, calling G.o.d to witness the truth of their a.s.severations; but, in cases where the crime is clearly proved against the murderer, the door is either closed, the ceremony repelled by violence, or the house abandoned by the inmates until the funeral pa.s.ses.*

* Many of these striking and startling old customs have nearly disappeared, and indeed it is better that they should.

The death of Kelly, however, could not be actually, or, at least, directly considered a murder, for it was probable that Grimes did not inflict the stroke with an intention to take away his life, and, besides, Kelly survived it four months. Grimes's house was not more than fifteen perches from the road: and when the corpse was opposite the little bridleway that led up to it, they laid it down for a moment, and the relations of Kelly surrounded it, offering up a short prayer, with uncovered heads. It was then borne toward the house, whilst the keening commenced in a loud and wailing cry, accompanied with clapping of hands, and every other symptom of external sorrow. But, independent of their compliance with this ceremony, as an old usage, there is little doubt that the appearance of anything connected with the man who certainly occasioned Kelly's death, awoke a keener and more intense sorrow for his loss. The wailing was thus continued until the coffin was laid opposite Ghimes's door; nor did it cease then, but, on the contrary, was renewed with louder and more bitter lamentations.

As the mult.i.tude stood compa.s.sionating the affliction of the widow and orphans, it was the most impressive and solemn spectacle that could be witnessed. The very house seemed to have a condemned look; and, as a single wintry breeze waved a tuft of long gra.s.s that grew on a seat of turf at the side of the door, it brought the vanity of human enmity before my mind with melancholy force. When the keening ceased, Kelly's wife, with her children, knelt, their faces towards the house of their enemy, and invoked, in the strong language of excited pa.s.sion, the justice of heaven upon the head of the man who had left her a widow, and her children fatherless. I was anxious to know if Grimes would appear to disclaim the intention of murder; but I understood that he was at market--for it happened to be market-day.

"Come out!" said the widow--"come out, and look at the sight that's here before you! Come and view your own work! Lay but your hand upon the coffin, and the blood of him you murdhered will spout, before G.o.d and these Christian people, in your guilty face! But, oh! may the Almighty G.o.d bring this home to you!--May you never lave this life, John Grimes, till worse nor has overtaken me and mine fall upon you and yours! May our curse light upon you this day!--the curse, I say, of the widow and the orphans, that your b.l.o.o.d.y hand has made us, may it blast you! May you, and all belonging to you wither off of the 'airth! Night and day, sleeping and waking--like snow off the ditch, may you melt, until your name and your place be disremimbered, except to be cursed by them that will hear of you and your hand of murdher! Amin, we pray G.o.d this day!--and the widow and orphans' prayer will not fall to the ground while your guilty head is above it! Childhre, do you all say it?"

At this moment a deep, terrific murmur, or rather e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, corroborative of a.s.sent to this dreadful imprecation, pervaded the crowd in a fearful manner; their countenances darkened, their eyes gleamed, and their scowling visages stiffened into an expression of determined vengeance.

When these awful words were uttered, Grimes's wife and daughters approached the window in tears, sobbing, at the same time, loudly and bitterly.

"You're wrong," said the wife--"you're wrong, Widow Kelly, in saying that my husband murdhered him:--he did not murdher him; for when you and yours were far from him, I heard John Grimes declare before the G.o.d who's to judge him, that he had no thought or intention of taking his life; he struck him in anger, and the blow did him an injury that was not intended. Don't curse him, Honor Kelly," said she, "don't curse him so fearfully; but, above all, don't curse me and my innocent childher, for we never harmed you, nor wished you ill! But it was this party work did it! Oh, my G.o.d!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands in utter bitterness of spirit, "when will it be ended between friends and neighbors, that ought to live in love and kindness together instead of fighting in this bloodthirsty manner!"

She then wept more violently, as did her daughters.

"May G.o.d give me mercy in the last day, Mrs. Kelly, as I pity from my heart and soul you and your orphans," she continued; "but don't curse us, for the love of G.o.d--for you know we should forgive our enemies, as we ourselves, that are the enemies of G.o.d, hope to be forgiven."

"May G.o.d forgive me, then, if I have wronged you or your husband," said the widow, softened by their distress; "but you know, that whether he intended his life or not, the stroke he gave him has left my childher without a father, and myself dissolate. Oh, heavens above me!" she exclaimed, in a scream of distraction and despair, "is it possible--is it thrue--that my manly husband--the best father that ever breathed the breath of life--my own Denis, is lying dead--murdhered before my eyes?

Put your hands on my head, some of you--put your hands on my head, or it will go to pieces. Where are you, Denis--where are you, the strong of hand, and the tender of heart? Come to me, darling, I want you in my distress. I want comfort, Denis; and I'll take it from none but yourself, for kind was your word to me in all my afflictions!"

All present were affected; and, indeed, it was difficult to say, whether Kelly's wife or Grimes's was more to be pitied at the moment. The affliction of the latter and of her daughters was really pitiable; their sobs were loud, and the tears streamed down their cheeks like rain. When the widow's exclamations had ceased, or rather were lost in the loud cry of sorrow which were uttered by the keeners and friends of the deceased--they, too, standing somewhat apart from the rest, joined in it bitterly; and the solitary wail of Mrs. Grimes, differing in character from that of those who had been trained to modulate the most profound grief into strains of a melancholy nature, was particularly wild and impressive. At all events, her Christian demeanor, joined to the sincerity of her grief, appeased the enmity of many; so true is it that a soft answer turneth away wrath. I could perceive, however, that the resentment of Kelly's male relations did not appear to be in any degree moderated.

The funeral again proceeded, and I remarked that whenever a strange pa.s.senger happened to meet it, he always turned back, and accompanied it for a short distance, after which he resumed his journey, it being considered unlucky to omit this visage on meeting a funeral. Denis's residence was not more than two miles from the churchyard, which was situated in the town where he had received the fatal blow. As soon as we had got on about the half of this way, the priest of the parish met us, and the funeral, after proceeding a few perches more, turned into a green field, in the corner of which stood a table with the apparatus for saying ma.s.s spread upon it.

The coffin was then laid down once more, immediately before this temporary altar; and the priest, after having robed himself, the wrong or the sable side of the vestments out, as is usual in the case of death, began to celebrate ma.s.s for the dead, the congregation all kneeling. When this was finished, the friends of the deceased approached the altar, and after some private conversation, the priest turned round, and inquired aloud--

"Who will give Offerings?"

The people were acquainted with the manner in which this matter is conducted, and accordingly knew what to do. When the priest put the question, Denis's brother, who Was a wealthy man, came forward, and laid down two guineas on the altar; the priest took this up, and putting it on a plate, set out among the mult.i.tude, accompanied by two or three of those who were best acquainted with the inhabitants of the parish. He thus continued putting the question, distinctly, after each man had paid; and according as the money was laid down, those who accompanied the priest p.r.o.nounced the name of the person who gave it, so that all present might hear it. This is also done to enable the friends of the deceased to know not only those who show them this mark of respect, but those who neglect it, in order that they may treat them in the same manner on similar occasions. The amount of money so received is very great; for there is a kind of emulation among the people, as to who will act with most decency and spirit, that is exceedingly beneficial to the priest. In such instances the difference of religion is judiciously overlooked; for although the prayers of Protestants are declined on those occasions, yet it seems the same objection does not hold good against their money, and accordingly they pay as well as the rest. When the priest came round to where I stood, he shook hands with my brother, with whom he appeared to be on very friendly and familiar terms; he and I were then introduced to each other.

"Come," said he, with a very droll expression of countenance, shaking the plate at the same time up near my brother's nose,--"Come, Mr.

D'Arcy, down with your offerings, if you wish to have a friend with St.

Peter when you go as far as the gates; down with your money, sir, and you shall be remembered, depend upon it."

"Ah," said my brother, pulling out a guinea, "I would with the greatest pleasure; but I fear this guinea is not orthodox. I'm afraid it has a heretical mark upon it."

"In that case," replied his Reverence laughing heartily, "your only plan is to return it to the bosom of the church, by laying it on the plate here--it will then be within the pale, you know."

This reply produced a great deal of good-humor among that part of the crowd which immediately surrounded them--not excepting his nearest relations, who laughed heartily--

"Well," said my brother, as he laid it on the plate, "how many prayers will you offer up in my favor for this?"

"Leave that to myself," said his Reverence, looking at the money; "it will be before you, I say, when you go to St. Peter."

He then held the plate over to me in a droll manner; and I added another guinea to my brother's gift; for which I had the satisfaction of having my name called out so loud, that it might be heard a quarter of a mile off.

"G.o.d bless you, sir," said the priest, "and I thank you."

"John," said I, when he left us, "I think that is a pleasant and rather a sensible man?"

"He's as jovial a soul," replied my brother, "as ever gave birth to a jest, and he sings a right good song. Many a convivial hour have he and I spent together; and a more hospitable man besides, never yet existed.

Although firmly attached to his own religion, he is no bigot; but, on the contrary, an excellent, liberal, and benevolent man."

When the offerings were all collected, he returned to the altar, repeated a few additional prayers in prime style--as rapid as lightning; and after hastily shaking the holy water on the crowd, the funeral moved oh. It was now two o'clock, the day clear and frosty, and the sun unusually bright for the season. During ma.s.s, many were added to those who formed the funeral train at the outset; so that, when we got out upon the road, the procession appeared very large. After this, few or none joined it; for it is esteemed by no means "dacent" to do so after ma.s.s, because, in that case, the matter is ascribed to an evasion of the offerings; but those whose delay has not really been occasioned by this motive, make it a point to pay them at the grave-yard, or after the interment, and sometimes even on the following day--so jealous are the peasantry of having any degrading suspicion attached to their generosity.

The order of the funeral now was as follows:--Foremost the women--next to them the corpse, surrounded by the relations--the eldest son, in deep affliction, "led the coffin," as chief mourner, holding in his hand the corner of a sheet or piece of linen, fastened to the mort-cloth, called moor-cloth. After the coffin came those who were on foot, and in the rear were the equestrians. When we were a quarter of a mile from the churchyard, the funeral was met by a dozen of singing-boys, belonging to a chapel choir, which the priest, who was fond of music, had some time before formed. They fell in, two by two, immediately behind the corpse, and commenced singing the Requiem, or Latin hymn for the dead.

The scene through which we pa.s.sed at this time, though not clothed with the verdure and luxuriant beauty of summer, was, nevertheless, marked by that solemn and decaying splendor which characterizes a fine country, lit up by the melancholy light of a winter setting sun. It was, therefore, much more in character with the occasion. Indeed--I felt it altogether beautiful; and, as the "dying day-hymn stole aloft," the dim sunbeams fell, through a vista of naked, motionless trees, upon the coffin, which was borne with a slower and more funereal pace than before, in a manner that threw a solemn and visionary light upon the whole procession, this, however, was raised to something dreadfully impressive, when the long train, thus proceeding with a motion so mournful, as seen, each, or at least the majority of them, covered with a profusion of crimson ribbons, to indicate that the corpse they bore--owed, his death to a deed of murder. The circ.u.mstance of the sun glancing his rays upon the coffin was not un.o.bserved by the peasantry, who considered it as a good omen to the spirit of the departed.

As we went up the street which had been the scene of the quarrel that proved so fatal to Kelly, the coffin was again laid down on the spot where he received his death-blow; and, as was usual, the wild and melancholy keene was raised. My brother saw many of Grimes's friends among the spectators, but he himself was not visible. Whether Kelly's party saw then or not, we could not say; if they did, they seemed not to notice them, for no expression of revenge or indignation escaped them.

At length we entered the last receptacle of the dead. The coffin was now placed upon the shoulders of the son and brothers of the deceased, and borne round the church-yard; whilst the priest, with his stole upon him, preceded it, reading prayers for the eternal repose of the soul. Being then laid beside the grave, a "De profundis" was repeated by the priest and the ma.s.s-server; after which a portion of fresh clay, carried from the fields, was brought to his Reverence, who read a prayer over it, and consecrated it. This is a ceremony which is never omitted at the interment of a Roman Catholic. When it was over, the coffin was laid into the grave, and the blessed clay shaken over it. The priest now took the shovel in his own hands, and threw in the three first shovelfuls--one in the name of the Father, one in the name of the Son, and one in the name of the Holy Ghost. The s.e.xton then took it, and in a short time Denis Kelly was fixed for ever in his narrow bed.

While these ceremonies were going forward, the churchyard presented a characteristic picture. Beside the usual groups who straggle through the place, to amuse themselves by reading the inscriptions on the tombs, you might see many individuals kneeling on particular graves, where some relation lay--for the benefit of whose soul they offered up their prayers with an attachment and devotion which one cannot but admire.

Sometimes all the surviving members of the family would a.s.semble, and repeat a Rosary for the same purpose. Again, you might see an unhappy woman beside a newly-made grave, giving way to lamentation and sorrow for the loss of a husband, or of some beloved child. Here, you might observe the "last bed" ornamented with hoops, decked in white paper, emblematic of the virgin innocence of the individual who slept below;--there, a little board-cross informing you that "this monument was erected by a disconsolate husband to the memory of his beloved wife." But that which excited greatest curiosity was a sycamore-tree, which grow in the middle of the burying-ground.

It is necessary to inform the reader, that in Ireland many of the church-yards are exclusively appropriated to the interment of Roman Catholics, and, consequently, the corpse of no one who had been a Protestant would be permitted to pollute or desecrate them. This was one of them: but it appears that by some means or other, the body of a Protestant had been interred in it--and hear the consequence! The next morning heaven marked its disapprobation of this awful visitation by a miracle; for, ere the sun rose from the east, a full-grown sycamore had shot up out of the heretical grave, and stands there to this day, a monument at once of the profanation and its consequence. Crowds wore looking at this tree, feeling a kind of awe, mingled with wonder, at the deed which drew down such a visible and lasting mark of G.o.d's displeasure. On the tombstones near Kelly's grave, men and women were seated, smoking tobacco to their very heart's content; for, with that profusion which characterizes the Irish in everything, they had brought out large quant.i.ties of tobacco, whiskey, and bunches of pipes. On such occasions it is the custom for those who attend the wake or the funeral to bring a full pipe home with them; and it is expected that, as often as it is used, they will remember to say "G.o.d be merciful to the soul of him that this pipe was over."

The crowd, however, now began to disperse; and the immediate friends of the deceased sent the priest, accompanied by Kelly's brother, to request that we would come in, as the last mark of respect to poor Denis's memory, and take a gla.s.s of wine and a cake.