Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race
saying, "Nay, fear not, nurse; the saints have heard my prayer and put
it into my heart to save all these helpless ones." Then she crossed
the hall to her own room, and called a servant, saying, "Send hither
quickly Fergus my steward."
She Summons her Steward
Shortly afterwards the steward came, Fergus the White, an old
grey-haired man, who had been foster-brother to Cathleen's
grandfather. He had seen three generations pass away, he had watched
the change from heathenism to Christianity, and of all the chief's
family, to which his loyal devotion had ever clung, there remained but
this one young girl, and he loved her as his own child. Fergus did
obeisance to his liege lady, and kissed her hand kneeling as he asked:
"What would the Countess Cathleen with her steward? Shall I render my
account of lands and wealth?"
Demands to Know what Wealth she Owns
"How much have I in lands?" the Countess asked. And Fergus answered in
surprise: "Your lands are worth one hundred thousand pounds."
"Of what value is the timber in my forests?" "As much again."
"What is the worth of my castles and my fair residences?" continued
the Countess Cathleen. And Fergus still replied: "As much more,"
though in his heart he questioned why his lady wished to know now,
while the famine made all riches seem valueless.
"How much gold still unspent lies in thy charge in my
treasure-chests?"
"Lady, your stored gold is three hundred thousand pounds, as much as
all your lands and forests and houses are worth."
The Countess Cathleen thought for an instant, and then, as one who
makes a momentous decision, spoke firmly, though her lips quivered as
she gave utterance to her thought:
"Go Far and Buy Food"
"Then, Fergus, take my bags of coin and go. Leave here my jewels and
some gold, for I may hear of some stores of grain hoarded by niggard
farmers, and may induce them to sell, if not for the love of God, then
for the love of gold. Take, too, authority from me, written and sealed
with my seal, to sell all my lands and timber, and castles, except
this one alone where I must dwell. Send a man, trustworthy and speedy,
to the North, to Ulster, where I hear the famine is less terrible, and
let him buy what cattle he can find, and drive them back as soon as
may be."
"Keeping this house alone, sell all I have;
Go to some distant country, and come again
With many herds of cows and ships of grain."
The Steward Reluctantly Obeys
The ancient steward, Fergus the White, stood at first speechless with
horror and grief, but after a moment of silence his sorrow found vent
in words, and he besought his dear lady not to sell everything, her
ancient home, her father's lands, her treasured heirlooms, and leave
herself no wealth for happier times. All his persuasions were useless,
for Cathleen would not be moved; she bade him "Farewell" and hastened
his journey, saying, "A cry is in mine ears; I cannot rest." So there
was no help for it. A trusty man was despatched to Ulster to buy up
all the cattle (weak and famine-stricken as they would be) in the
North Country; while Fergus himself journeyed swiftly to England,
which was still prosperous and fertile, untouched by the deadly
famine, and knowing nothing of the desolation of the sister isle, to
which the English owed so much of their knowledge of the True Faith.
Buys Stores in England
In England Fergus spent all the gold he brought with him, and then
sold all the Countess Cathleen bade him sell--lands, castles, forests,
pastures, timber--all but one lonely castle in the desolate woods,
where she dwelt among her own people, with the dying folk thronging
round her gates and in her halls. Good bargains Fergus made also, for
he was a shrewd and loyal steward, and the saints must have touched
the hearts of the English merchants, so that they gave good prices for
all, or perhaps they did not realize the dire distress that prevailed
in Ireland. However that may have been, Fergus prospered in his
trading, and bought grain, and wine, and fat oxen and sheep, so that
he loaded many ships with full freights of provisions, enough to carry
the starving peasantry through the famine year till the next harvest.
At last all his money was spent, all his ships were laden, everything
was ready, and the little fleet lay in harbour, only awaiting a fair
wind, which, unhappily, did not come.
His Return Delayed
First of all Fergus waited through a deadly calm, when the sails hung
motionless, drooping, with no breath of air to stir them, when the fog
that brooded over the shores of England never lifted and all sailing
was impossible; then the winds dispersed the fog, and Fergus,
forgetting caution in his great anxiety to return, hastily set sail
for his own land, and there came fierce tempests and contrary winds,
so that his little fleet was driven back, and one or two ships went
down with all their stores of food. Fergus wept to see his lady's
wealth lost in the wintry sea, but he dared not venture again, and
though he chafed and fretted at the delay, it was nearly two months
after he reached England before he could sail back to his young
mistress and her starving countrymen. The trusty messenger who had
been sent to buy cattle had succeeded beyond his own expectation; he
also had made successful bargains, and had found more cattle than he
believed were still alive in Ireland. He had bought all, and was
driving them slowly towards the Countess Cathleen's forest dwelling.
Their progress was so slow, because of their weakness and the scanty
fodder by the way, that no news of them came to Cathleen, and she knew
not that while corn and cattle were coming with Fergus across the sea,
food was also coming to her slowly through the barren ways of her own
native land. None of this she knew, and despair would have filled her
heart, but for her faith in God and her belief in the great
inspiration that had been given to her.
Deepening Misery in Ireland
Meanwhile terrible things had been happening in Ireland. As in England
in later days, "men said openly that Christ and His saints slept";
they thought with longing of the mighty old gods, for the new seemed
powerless, and they yearned for the friendly "good people" who had
fled from the sound of the church bell. Thus many minds were ready to
revolt from the Christian faith if they had not feared the life after
death and the endless torments of the Christian Hell. Some few,
desperate, even offered secret worship to the old heathen gods, and
true love to the One True God had grown cold.
Two Mysterious Strangers
Now on the very day on which Fergus sailed for England, and his
comrade departed to Ulster, two mysterious and stately strangers
suddenly appeared in Erin. Whence they came no man knew, but they were
first seen near the wild sea-shore of the west, and the few poor
inhabitants thought they had been put ashore by some vessel or wrecked
on that dangerous coast. Aliens they certainly were, for they talked
with each other in a tongue that none understood, and they appeared as
if they did not comprehend the questions asked of them. Thus they
passed away from the western coasts, and made their way inland; but
when they next appeared, in a village not far from Dublin, they had
greatly changed: they wore magnificent robes and furs, with splendid
jewelled gloves on their hands, and golden circlets, set with gleaming
rubies, bound their brows; their black steeds showed no trace of
weakness and famine as they rode through the woods and carefully noted
the misery everywhere.
Their Strange Story
At last they alighted at the little lodge, where a forester's widow
gladly received them; and their royal dress, lofty bearing and strange
language accorded ill with the mean surroundings and the scanty
accommodation of that little hut. The dead forester had been one of
the Countess Cathleen's most faithful vassals, and his holding was but
a short distance from the castle, so that the strangers could,
unobserved, watch the life of the little village. As time passed they
told their hostess they were merchants, simple traders from a distant
country, trafficking in very precious gems; but they had no wares for
exchange, and no gems to show; they made no inquiries or researches,
bargained with no man, seemed to do no business; they were the most
unusual merchants ever seen in Ireland, and the strangeness of their
behaviour troubled men's minds.
Mysterious Behaviour
Day by day they ate, unquestioning, the coarse food their poor hostess
set before them, and the black bread which was the best food
obtainable in those terrible days, but they added to it wine, rich and
red, from their own private store, and they paid her lavishly in good
red gold, so that she wondered that any men should stay in the
famine-stricken country when they could so easily leave it at their
will. Gradually, too, speaking now in the Irish tongue, they began to
ask her cautious questions of the people, of the land, of the famine,
how men lived and how they died, and so they heard of the exceeding
goodness of the Countess Cathleen, whose bounty had saved so many
lives, and was still saving others, though the deadly pinch of famine
grew sorer with the passing days. To their hostess they admired
Cathleen's goodness, and were loud in her praises, but they looked
askance at one another and their brows were black with discontent.
Professed Errand of Mercy
Then one day the kingly merchants told the poor widow who harboured
them that they too were the friends of the poor and starving; they
were servants of a mighty prince, who in his compassion and mercy had
sent them on a mission to Ireland to help the afflicted peasants to
fight against famine and death. They said that they themselves had no
food to give, only wine and gold in plenty, so that men might exert
themselves and search for food to buy. Their hostess, hearing this,
and knowing that there were still some niggards who refused to part
with their mouldering heaps of corn, setting the price so high that no
man could buy, called down the blessing of God and Mary and all the
saints upon their heads, for if they would distribute their gold to
all, or even buy the corn themselves and distribute it, men need no
longer die of hunger.
A New Traffic
When she prayed for a blessing on the two strangers they smiled
scornfully and impatiently; and the elder said, cunningly:
"Alas! we know the evils of mere charity,
And would devise a more considered way.
Let each man bring one piece of merchandise."
"Ah, sirs!" replied the hostess, "then your compassion, your gold and
your goodwill are of no avail. Think you, after all these weary
months, that any man has merchandise left to sell? They have sold long
ago all but the very clothes they wear, to keep themselves alive till
better days come. Such offers are mockery of our distress."
"We mock you not," said the elder merchant. "All men have the one
precious thing we wish to buy, and have come hither to find; none has
already lost or sold it."
"What precious treasure can you mean? Men in Ireland now have only
their lives, and can barely cherish those," said the poor woman,
wondering greatly and much afraid.
Buyers of Souls
The elder merchant continued gazing at her with a crafty smile and an
eye ever on the alert for tokens of understanding. "Poor as they are,
Irishmen have still one thing that we will purchase, if they will
sell: their souls, which we have come to obtain for our mighty Prince,
and with the great price that we shall pay in pure gold men can well
save their lives till the starving time is over. Why should men die a
cruel, lingering death or drag through weary months of miserable