Dark Rosaleen Read Online Free PDF Page A

frivolous, witty and amusing until the cigars and brandies were brought to the table. That was the signal for her to rise, for her hand to be kissed a dozen times by as many lips and for her to depart the company so that government business and merry chit-chat could commence.
    That evening was the last of the weekly dinners before Christmas and was more convivial than usual, aided by Sir William’s many helpings of Yuletide Amontillado. He was in good humour, pleased with the team of helpers and advisers he had so quickly put together. They had an immense task ahead, supervising the import of grain, establishing the depots to store it, making them secure and sending it out to where it was most needed. Whenever he felt harassed by bureaucratic bungling he would console himself that such things were inevitable because nothing on this scale had ever been attempted before. There simply was not the means to cope with the rapid spread of the distress and if food was not reaching the starving quickly enough it was simply because Ireland’s roads were not fit for wagons to travel on.
    He had written his first progress report to Sir Charles Trevelyan, stating that he expected the worst would be over by the summer. He did not believe it himself, nor did any of his staff, but that was what Sir Charles wanted to hear.
    Midway through dinner, as they were feasting on roast leg of lamb, ham hock and every variety of winter vegetable and before Moran the butler arrived with the decanter of port and the cigar box, the conversation unexpectedly and to the dismay of many turned too soon to the famine. It had never been Kate’s intention to speak her thoughts so publicly and certainly never in the company of these men. Had it not been for Dr Martineau, she might never have done so.
    She was listening to the youngest and newest of her father’s relief agents, the slim and fair-haired Captain John Shelley. He had taken voluntary leave of his regiment purposely to help in the relief effort and had sailed from Liverpool on the same ship as Kate and her father.
    To the older men who would prefer not to hear he said, ‘Is it not possible to persuade the landlords to postpone payment of the gale until people can harvest next year’s potato crop? They might then be able to buy a little food to tide them over.’
    Primed with claret, his listeners jeered and thumped the table.
    ‘Without rents,’ they shouted, ‘where is the landlord’s income? If the tenants fall another year in arrears how could they ever expect to catch up on their debt? Why should landowners, and especially the Church, forfeit even a penny of their income for what is after all a natural, even a divine, catastrophe?’
    Captain Shelley said, ‘But surely more can be done to alleviate the effects of the famine. People are dying from hunger, yet there is food in the markets. I’ve seen it. The Church is doing so little when there is so much it could do. Let us provide at least some ration of Exchequer money to see them through the winter.’
    In the babble of protest, Dr Martineau held up his hand, clearly angry that someone so young, so English and knowing so little of the situation had dared question both Church and government policy.
    ‘We will excuse your young nonsense, Captain,’ he said. ‘You still have much to learn about our country and its people. But you must believe that all that can be done is being done. Do more and we will destroy what little spirit remains in these people to cope for themselves. Remember that God rewards the industrious and never forget that these Catholics are the architects of their misery. They are getting no less punishment than they deserve and far more charity than they have a right to. If food is scarce it must be made to last a longer time. It is the only criteria by which consumption can be controlled. I recommend, young man, that you take the time to read a few chapters of that great economist Malthus and his dictum that if the