Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherfurd [293]
They were a lively party. There was Doyle, tall and handsome, and sporting a splendid fur hat into which he’d pinned a circular badge encrusted with jewels. Joan, in rich brown velvet laced with pearls, was sitting happily beside him. The wagon was handsome—padded seats, silk curtains. Inside the wagon also rode James MacGowan and his wife. They were more quietly dressed, as befitted their less exalted station. For though MacGowan could probably have afforded clothes as fine as Doyle’s, he was far too clever to wear them. Perched up in front, beside the coachman, was Tidy, a glover just finishing his apprenticeship, whom MacGowan had brought along with him. The October day was overcast, but there were bright gashes in the clouds, and no sign of rain, as they rolled westwards. They were going to Maynooth.
The castle of Maynooth lay about a dozen miles west of Dublin. Far larger than the fortified manors of the gentry like Malahide, it was one of several impressive centres where the mighty Earl of Kildare held court. And no doubt it was because of Maynooth’s proximity to Dublin and the heart of the Pale that the earl had chosen it for his new religious foundation.
For if the English of the Pale were proud of their faith, they invested in it, too. In Dublin especially, rich men like Doyle might be reluctant to contribute to civic buildings, but in the churches their memorials and the chantries where the priests sung masses for their souls were more splendidly endowed than ever. What then should the Fitzgeralds do, if not something on a grander scale?
The new College of Maynooth was housed close to the castle. It had a hall, a chapel, and a dormitory. Its stated purpose was to be a small community for religious study and instruction. “But if I know anything about the ambition of the Fitzgeralds,” Doyle had remarked, “this will only be a beginning.” For everyone knew that it was in just such small colleges that the universities of Oxford and Cambridge had first begun.
And with the building completed, the earl had invited people from far and wide to witness the service of consecration.
Joan looked at her companions with affection. Her husband: tall, dark, capable; some people, she knew, were afraid of him, but to her he was strong as a lion, yet gentle as a lamb. MacGowan, younger than her husband, strangely ageless, with his thinning hair, drooping lip, and his eye always so sharp. He traded all over the Pale and far beyond. “I know a lot,” her husband had once remarked, “but our friend MacGowan knows everything.” And on several occasions he had returned home shaking his head with wonderment and told her, “That fellow is more cunning than the devil himself.” But MacGowan and his homely wife had always seemed a warm and kindly couple to Joan. Perhaps, she considered, both assessments might be true. As for young Tidy, his case was simple enough. “The Tidy family are good people,” her husband had informed her. “One of the best of the craftsmen families, and very devout.” Henry Tidy was going to be a glover. A good trade. In a few years, she supposed, young Tidy would be looking for a wife. Perhaps, she thought contentedly, she could help him find a good one.
Late in the morning the Doyle party arrived at the castle of Maynooth in a happy mood. And this was appropriate for it was immediately clear that, on this day at least, all quarrels were to be forgotten.
Everyone was there. Fitzgeralds and Butlers, Talbots and Barnewalls, royal officials from Dublin and some of the greatest Irish chiefs from beyond the Pale. For though the new college was clearly a triumph for the Fitzgeralds, and situated within the English Pale, it was still, in its way, a foundation that did honour to the whole island.
No sooner had the Doyles arrived than a host of people came up to greet them. Even the Talbots of Malahide came over to say a few friendly words. For all his riches, it wasn’t every day that the proud Talbots would walk across to talk to Alderman Doyle. “It’s because they know you were born a Butler,” he said with a smile to Joan.