Category : Stories

Sub Category : Historical Fiction

Ah sure God bless Mr Coburg, may God lighten the darkness upon his soul, he's a good man for a Protestant minister. He took pity upon us.
In the 1800s the life of the Irish Tennant farmer's was often so harsh suppression and hunger was their daily concern. 
One day in the middle of October in the year 27 Dominick M'Evoy and his son Jemmy were digging padatas on the barren verge of Esker Bog. It was a cold, wet, bitter day, the men were thinly clad and as the blast swept across the open field with considerable violence, the sleet and rain it brought along, pelted into their thin garments with considerable force.
The father was well into his middle age, and having held, at rack and rent the miserable waste of a farm which he occupied, he had little choice but exert himself in it's cultivation, despite the state of the soil, or the inclemency of the weather. This day, however was particularly severe, that the old man felt incapable of continuing his toil. The son bore it better, but when the stormy rain came over them both were compelled to stand with their side's against it, and their heads turned, so as that the ear almost rested upon the shoulder, in order to throw the rain off their faces, which where pale and hunger pinched.
The father paused to catch his breath and supported by his spade, as he looked towards the town, which was mostly inhabited by  Presbyterian and Protestants, lay rich and warm looking under him.
In his frustration the son stood watching his father's year's of suppression and hunger, as he looked towards the town. I know well I oughtn't to curse yez, anyways, you black set! an hit, the Lord forgive me, my sins, I'm almost timpted ta give yez a volley, an that from my heart out!
Look at thim Jemmy Agra, only look at the black thieve's! How warm and wealthy they sit there in our own ould possessions, and here we must scratch and toil till our finger's are worn to the stumps, upon these thieving people, may the curse of Cromwell be upon them. 
The old man weak from hunger and hardship collapsed to the ground. Then in a panic Jemmy called out to a passer by for assistance. Mr Coburg the town's Protestant minister had been passing by the field in his horse's carriage. On hearing Jemmy cry for help, he assisted the old man, reviving him with a shot of brandy, he then insisted he took the men home in his carriage. He did not leave them till he provided the men with food and warm blankets, and in the coming months became a regular visitor to the men's farm, helping them in any way he could.
I have come across so many of these inspiring stories, where suffering is such, that men leave down their gaurd, and just see and treat eachother, as their fellow man.