Called to Account

by Frank Parker

Genres: Historical Fiction

Synopsis

From the author of "Strongbow's Wife" and "A Purgatory of Misery" comes another searing account of a terrible period in Irish history. When a government official exposes the unpalatable truth about the famine in mid-nineteenth century West Clare he is called to account by the men he accuses. Abandoned by his masters, he has only his strength of character and the love of his wife and daughter to sustain him as he fights famine and disease in a land teeming with destitute men, women and children.

Release date: March 18, 2020

Publisher: TSL Books

Print pages: 156

Sample

 

A small company was detailed to accompany a particularly obnoxious individual on a mission to secure overdue rent from the occupier of a small holding. The poor fellow lacked sufficient money with which to meet the landlord's demands. The agent therefore determined to remove livestock to the supposed value. The agent and his accomplices set about rounding up 3 skinny cows, their bones clearly visible beneath their hides, which were in turn liberally covered with scabs and lesions. The farmer, his woman and 4 children, all dressed in rags, stood by, wringing their hands.

The ages of the children were difficult to discern, their faces so pinched by hunger they looked like old men and women. They were plainly unable to comprehend what they were witnessing.

The woman's sobs would have plucked the heart strings of any man possessed of one. I could not help but notice the mutterings of my men. I ought to have castigated them, for engaging in any political discourse is against regulations for an ordinary soldier. I did not have the heart to do so. How the agent and his henchmen could be so cold was beyond my understanding. It must have been obvious to them, as to me, that, as lacking of meat as the beasts were, they represented the only food that family would have to sustain them for the coming winter. What were they to do? Their only recourse would be the workhouse for the woman and her offspring, and, should he be so fortunate, a public works scheme for the man.

I now believe this, and other similar incidents, sowed the seeds of my own political enlightenment. The landlord needed the rent in order to pay his dues to the poor law guardians. Those dues, in turn, enabled the guardians to support the family in the workhouse and pay the man his meagre wage on the public works. How much more sensible would have been the adoption of the same course as the one followed by my father and permit the family to live rent free until next harvest.

As the fourth son I always knew there was little chance of inheriting my father's estate. And in our culture the notion of splitting the estate between siblings was anathema, the preference being for expansion. With yet more brothers younger than me, my father being, it sometimes seemed to me, determined to increase the population of Down single handedly – not satisfied with the 6 boys and 5 girls he had sired by the time my mother died when I was 13, he went on to procreate a further 2 boys and 5 girls to his second wife, Sarah – making my own way in the world, seeking my own fortune was a necessity. My last tutor, a man enamoured of great literature and no little interest in the sciences, encouraged me to take up a place at Trinity college in Dublin. I found the place to be quite insufferable, full of people with far too high an opinion of their own worth. I determined, therefore, to join the army.

I confess the knowledge that another fourth son of an aristocratic Irish family had become commander in chief after a successful venture into politics, demonstrating that the army offered a man an opportunity for advancement the equal of any other profession, was never far from my thoughts. That, however, was by no means the only, or even the principal, reason for my decision. After the studied informality, the detachment from reality, that manifested itself in academia, the discipline of army life and the opportunity to see real life as lived in the more exotic, and even dangerous, places appealed to me. At the tender age of 17 I signed up with the Enniskillens.

At no time did I regret my decision. Even during the period of training, designed to increase both my physical strength and endurance as well as my proficiency with firearms and at horsemanship, I found solace in the company of others. At times life was without doubt much harder than that to which I was accustomed. But there was a comradeship by which each man helped his peers. For example, I was, of course, well acquainted with horsemanship. Thus I was able to provide support to those with little knowledge of matters equestrian, whilst another demonstrated to me the best method of driving a bayonet into a sack of oats. Fortunately I was never called upon to practice that technique in a situation where the stomach of an enemy took the place of the sack of oats.

Soon I was aboard ship, bound for the Mediterranean and, thence, the Aegean and some of the King's most pleasant colonies. It was on my return from Corfu that I learned of a plan to revitalise a tired regiment, the 68th foot. There was a call for young officers, a call which I answered, purchasing my commission as Captain in the regiment. After a brief sojourn in Edinburgh, where we concentrated on drilling the men to bring them back up to the highest standard expected of His Majesty's army, and during which we were deployed to put down an insurrection in Glasgow, I was bound once more for the Mediterranean and an uneventful 3 years in Gibraltar.

I was now due a period of home based duties so that, whilst the majority of the regiment were deployed to Jamaica, I remained at the barracks in Durham. It was during this sojourn that I began my courtship of a young woman of considerable charms and education whom I had for some while regarded with affection. My status as an officer now secured, I determined to approach the young woman and seek her hand in marriage. Imagine my delight when she agreed to the arrangement, subject, of course, to the agreement of her father. This having been sought and granted, we were married in a simple ceremony in the year of 1839.

The young woman, Georgina McCartney, now Kennedy, was, of course apprised of the fact that I could be deployed anywhere in the King's empire, and that, were the usual pattern of 3 years per deployment to continue, the next changeover was scheduled for a date less than 2 years after the commencement of our union. Not, I hasten to add, insufficient time for the procreation and arrival of our son, Arty, and daughter Elizabeth.

My happiness in this union was but briefly marred by the unexpected death of my eldest and most beloved and admired brother.