Roísín Ní Scáthach: The descent of Marguerite Bernard
If there is one thing that the landlords of Ireland crave, it is to become Lords in name. The power they hold to give and take our homes and livelihoods is insufficient compared to the glory of a Title bequeathed by the Queen.
And so it was for the Bernards of Kinnitty. It was not enough for them to inherit the estate and extend its grand house, which the third Thomas Bernard named Castle Bernard. He married for wealth not once but twice, yet a title eluded him.
He named his son Thomas also and found the boy a prestigious match, the only child of a lord. Elizabeth Bernard came with money, but her title did not follow her and she could not provide an heir. My granma, Caragh, questions now whether her untimely passing was an accident, for it opened the door to a match with Lady Catherine Henrietta Hely-Hutchinson, daughter of the Earl of Donoughmore. It was a fruitful tie that enriched the house with four sons and two daughters, the second of whom was named Marguerite.
Shortly before his marriage to Lady Catherine, the fourth Thomas Bernard began a campaign of works that would transform the estate and village. In 1813, he rebuilt and expanded St Finian’s Church. It was while digging new foundations that the workmen excavated a rough slab, some five feet tall, covered on one side in ancient markings. One of the men invited my granma to examine it, knowing that she was one of the wise women who carry our ancient knowledge.
Granma Caragh was then a young lady, still learning the ways of our kin. She knew enough to recognise the markings as a warning from ancient times and attempted to warn the Bernards that the stone must be reburied whence it came, but she got no further than the manager of the estate before she was violently expelled. The Protestant vicar took the Stone for a Christian relic from the time of St Patrick and Thomas Bernard thought that such an object would increase the repute of his demesne. It was situated proudly beneath the new stained glass windows in the new church, for all to look upon as they took part in the enforced worship of the English church.
Marguerite was born to Lady Catherine in 1817. She became known as a vain and mean-spirited young woman who was unkind to the household. She was seventeen years old in 1834, when her father died and her eldest brother succeeded him. The fifth Thomas Bernard had only just passed his own eighteenth birthday and had not yet earned the title of Black Thomas, though it is the only name by which he shall ever remembered.
The passing of Marguerite’s father was in many ways of little consequence to his tenants, seeing as their new landlord bore the same name, lived in the same castle and continued to take the greater share of their earnings to fund a schedule of works that seemed to have no end. If it was notable, it was because the late Thomas Bernard was buried not in the churchyard at St Finian’s but entombed on a hill behind it, within a mausoleum that was barely finished when he died.
The latest landmark imposed by the Bernard family took the shape of a pyramid of dark stone, some thirty feet high. The family were often heard to proclaim it a scale replica of a giant structure found in a distant land called Egypt. Few of us in Kinnitty at that time had ever seen the sea or a building larger than Castle Bernard itself. Egypt might as well have been Rome or London.
As Marguerite entered her womanhood, Granma Caragh heard tales of local men, bidden against their will to perform unnatural acts for her amusement. She at first dismissed these stories as excuses for taking to bed with a young society lady of dubious morals, indulging her wants with the local rough, or worse still, sharp young men taking advantage of some fault in her character.
Caragh had no particular love for the Bernards, but for the sake of young Irish women, she thought it best to discourage this kind of license and began to consider taking her own measures. Yet her suspicions towards Marguerite darkened when she was visited by Gerard O’Boylan, a young man from Kinnitty who had just now lost his betrothed in most tragic circumstances. His beloved had been employed as a kitchen maid at Castle Bernard, well-liked by those around her, and they were thought to be a good match for one another. The details of the incident are too gruesome to repeat for they were not only fatal but grievously painful for the short time that she endured her injuries. What ailed Gerard was that her injury occurred in full sight of several witnesses who attested that it could not have been accidental, though she had behaved with her customary good humour until the injury was inflicted.
A deliberate act of suicide, however inexplicable, placed his beloved outside the grace of the Lord. She was now damned for eternity.
Gerard also worked for the Bernards as a stable-hand, where his duties included the care of Marguerite’s horse. He told Caragh that on learning of his engagement, Marguerite had instructed him to ride out with her into the Slieve Blooms. This request immediately brought to Caragh’s mind one or two of the other tales that she had until now dismissed.
Marguerite took Gerard to a place of seclusion, deep within the forest, and insisted that he give up to her the honour that he had been saving for his wedding night. He swore on his mother’s heart that he had not wanted to lie with Marguerite, but that her voice had taken on the quality of a song which overcame all thoughts of objection. Gerard described “falling into her eyes” and experiencing a lustfulness which outstripped any loyalty he held towards his beloved. When the act was complete, Marguerite at first laughed at his anguish and shame, then grew angry that he was not pleased to have become her lover.
Gerard was convinced that Marguerite had bewitched him and then in petty jealousy had used the same enchantment upon his beloved, instructing her to kill herself. Granma Caragh was not known as a soft-hearted woman, particularly where menfolk were concerned, but his heartfelt account moved her to tears.
She had by now her suspicions as to the nature of Marguerite’s malign influence, and these made her fearful for every Irish soul engaged at the Castle. Evie was by this time also seventeen years of age, so Caragh arranged for her to join the staff of Castle Bernard and observe Marguerite. Gerard was furnished with a charm that might help him to resist the mistress’s demands. He was not troubled again, and Evie was soon approached by other members of the household with requests for similar protection. Caragh instructed Evie to place charms discreetly around the Castle, in the hope that this would limit Marguerite’s influence upon the entire household.
Soon afterwards, Marguerite began to visit other important families on social engagements that often took her from the Castle for several weeks. Evie had by now befriended, Eilise, the maid who accompanied Marguerite, and won her confidence. She reported that incidents of carnal indulgence occurred with men in houses across Ireland, among both the household staff and Marguerite’s own social circle. Marguerite had become capable of enforcing complete discretion among her lovers, and Eilise was too afraid to talk to anyone but Evie.
Eilise herself wore one of Caragh’s charms at all times, though her good humour proofed her against the worst of her mistress’s moods and her obedience ensured that she would need no enchantment. Marguerite dismissed her maid whenever she sought a tryst with one of her lovers, but she was far less discrete than she imagined. Eilise reported overhearing a song of indescribable beauty and strangeness when the mistress practiced her seduction. On several occasions, Eilise also heard Marguerite conversing with other people when there was no-one else in the room.
Caragh's previous experience had taught her that she had neither the agency nor the inclination to intervene directly in the business of the landlord’s family. She was, for the present, satisfied that the common folk of Kinnitty were sufficiently protected.
This period of observation ended in the summer of 1841, when Eilise reported that her mistress had become obsessed with a young man from her social circle. She had taken him as her lover, even though he was already courting one of Marguerite’s friends. It is not fit to name either of these people, though one would not have to be M.Dupin to discover them. The young woman was invited to visit Castle Bernard in the spring of 1842 and within a few days of her arrival she was found dead in her chambers from an overdose of laudanum, prescribed for her monthlies.
The unfortunate woman was the daughter of an influential lord who could not be embarrassed by a suicide, so her death was made to seem an accident. During his all-too-brief investigation, Black Thomas heard in private identical testimony from Eilise and the friend’s maid. Both had overheard a conversation in which Marguerite told her friend to take all of the tablets, accompanied by an enchanting song. Black Thomas warned Eilise that her entire family would be forbidden to work on the estate if she repeated her testimony. Such a fate spelled not only penury, but starvation and destitution, since they would surely lose their home. The friend’s maid was blamed for giving her mistress too many pills and, since Black Thomas was also the magistrate, he sent the unfortunate girl away to gaol.
Shortly after these events, Black Thomas surprised the household when he announced that Marguerite had succumbed to extreme grief. She would be henceforth confined to her chambers under the care of Eilise, Lady Catherine and the family physician. Eilise dutifully ensured that Marguerite’s chambers were populated with charms while Black Thomas and Lady Catherine argued over the fate of Marguerite’s friend and the licentious rumours which they had for too long ignored.
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