The Rebels of Ireland by Edward Rutherfurd Read Free Book Online

little ridge and wondered what the devil they were and how they came to be there. Had anyone been able to tell him—which they couldn’t—that the ancient mounds had once been tombs constructed according to precise astronomical calculation, he would have been astonished. Had any Irish-speaking local informed him—which they didn’t, because he spoke no Irish and wouldn’t have asked them anyway—that under those mounds lay the bright halls of the legendary Tuatha De Danaan, the genius warriors and craftsmen who had ruled the land before the Celtic tribes had come, he would have snorted with disgust. But he did notice that, in front of the largest of the mounds, there seemed to be a broad scattering of white quartz stones. He wondered if, perhaps, they had any value.
    As Doctor Pincher crossed the Boyne below the ancient tombs and made his way southwards that morning, his mind had been busily occupied. For he had just spent several days up in Ulster, and they had been interesting. Very interesting. So much so that, during all that morning and afternoon, he had not spoken a single word to his servant, not even when they stopped to eat.
    He had been ten years in Ireland now, and his views on the Irish had not changed. King James himself had it correctly: he referred to the native Irish Catholics as wild beasts.
    Some might have thought—given that the king’s own mother, Mary Queen of Scots, had been a notable Catholic, and that the rulers of Scotland descended from Irish tribes—that these opinions seemed strange. But since the new Stuart monarch was divinely anointed, and a scholar besides, the correctness of his judgement could not be doubted. As for their governance, the repeated Irish attempts to evade British rule proved that they were incapable of governing themselves.
    As he came to the Plain of Bird Flocks, Doctor Pincher saw the Walshes. He ignored them.
    Whatever his views about the Irish, his teaching position at the new foundation had given Pincher some cause for satisfaction. Trinity College was resolutely Protestant, and he was not the only teacher there with Calvinist learning. Hardly surprisingly, therefore, the Catholics avoided Trinity, while the government servants and other new arrivals from England gave it their enthusiastic support. Pincher’s successful lectures on the classics, philosophy, and theology soon ensured that he was asked to preach at Christ Church Cathedral itself, where he earned a good reputation with his listeners. His stipends from teaching and preaching allowed him to live well.
    Especially as, so far, he had not married. He had it in mind to do so, but although he had met young women, from time to time, to whom he was attracted, sooner or later they had always said or done something that indicated to Pincher that they were unworthy, and so he had never brought the business to any conclusion. He hadother family, however. A sister who after a somewhat prolonged spinsterhood had married a worthy man called Budge. And not six months ago, a letter had come with the announcement that she had borne her husband a son and that his name was Barnaby. Barnaby Budge. It was a solid, godly sounding name. And until such time as he should marry and produce children himself, Pincher considered this infant child his heir.
    â€œI mean to do something for him.” So he had written to his sister. And though he wrote it out of natural family affection, he had a further reason, too. For, if truth were told, in years past, his sister had sometimes shown a slight lack of respect in her manner towards him. The fault was his own. He couldn’t deny it: certain features of his youth; that foolish business that had caused his rapid departure from Cambridge—she had known about that too, alas. These remembrances gave Pincher some pain. His exemplary career in Dublin had put to rest any question about his character long ago. His reputation was solid. He’d