The Station; The Party Fight And Funeral; The Lough Derg Pilgrim: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume ThreeCarleton, William
General
The Station; The Party Fight And Funeral; The Lough Derg Pilgrim: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume Three
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“The pedlars and basket-women, and such as had tables and standings
erected in the streets, commenced removing them with all possible
haste. The shopkeepers, and other inhabitants of the town, put up
their shutters, in order to secure their windows from being shattered.
Strangers, who were compelled to stop in town that night, took shelter
in the inns and other houses of entertainment where they lodged: so that
about five o'clock the street was completely clear, and free for action.
“Hitherto there was not a stroke--the scene became even more silent and
gloomy, although the moral darkness of their ill-suppressed passions
was strongly contrasted with the splendor of the sun, that poured down
a tide of golden light upon the multitude. This contrast between the
natural brightness of the evening, and the internal gloom of their
hearts, as the beams of the sun rested upon the ever-moving crowd,
would, to any man who knew the impetus with which the spirit of
religious hatred was soon to rage among them, produce novel and
singular sensations. For, after all Toby, there is a mysterious
connection between natural and moral things, which often invest both
nature and sentiment with a feeling that certainly would not come home
to our hearts if such a connection did not exist. A rose-tree beside
a grave will lead us from sentiment to reflection; and any other
association, where a painful or melancholy thought is clothed with a
garb of joy or pleasure, will strike us more deeply in proportion as
the contrast is strong. On seeing the sun or moon struggling through the
darkness of surrounding clouds, I confess, although you may smile, that
I feel for the moment a diminution of enjoyment--something taken, as it
were, from the sum of my happiness.
“Ere the quarrel commenced, you might see a dark and hateful glare
scowling from the countenances of the two parties, as they viewed
and approached each other in the street--the eye was set in deadly
animosity, and the face marked with an ireful paleness, occasioned at
once by revenge and apprehension. Groups were silently hurrying with an
eager and energetic step to their places of rendezvous, grasping their
weapons more closely, or grinding their teeth in the impatience of their
fury. The veterans on each side were surrounded by their respective
followers, anxious to act under their direction; and the very boys
seemed to be animated with a martial spirit, much more eager than that
of those who had greater experience in party quarrels.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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