Canal

By Danny Doyle

The building of the canal system, in the United States although short
lived, provided industrial access to areas that were closed to economic
development.  The canal system in the eastern United States helped
to provide the impetus for the development of the railroad which
in fact brought about the demise of the canal system as a viable
economic mode of transportation within a ten year period.

Canal is a story that follows the lives of a Scottis

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781640969063

Book preview

The Seminoble Scotsman

Within Inverness’s upper-class society, no one could deny that Liam Walsh had a much-deserved position. Liam was not theoretically a nobleman, but many would have sworn he was by virtue of his gentle nature and patrician bearing. Despite his well-heeled position, there was nothing of the snob or imperialist in Liam Walsh. Liam was a kind and wise man who earned the respect of everyone in the community, rich and poor alike. Tall and steady like his father, Liam had rugged good looks, impeccable character, and sound judgment. Perhaps most importantly, Liam Walsh possessed an uncanny gift in the art of persuasion.

From the time he was a little boy, Liam looked up to his father and hung on to his every word. Charles Walsh was tall and slender, and to a six-year-old lad, he seemed taller than the trees. Liam’s father taught him that a real man was judged on respect for his fellow man. Charles would sit with Liam on his knees, and the two would speak quietly with words and phrases that at the young boy’s age dear Liam could not yet comprehend.

If you treat a man like a man, Liam, just like you’ll want to be treated, the man will return that respect in kind and treat you like a man. Respect is earned. Honesty and trust is gained. Loyalty is rewarded.

And though Liam didn’t exactly know what his father was trying to tell him, or indeed why, he loved to hear the deep resonance of his father’s genteel voice. He would peer into his grayish-green eyes up close and try to figure out exactly what color they really were. Most of all, Liam loved to be the center of his father’s attention.

The words Charles imbued had little meaning to the young Liam, but as he matured and observed his father’s kindness and strength at work, and at home, he grew to grasp and embrace the meaning of his father’s lessons by word and deed.

Liam lived by his father’s words. Respect begets respect, Liam, Charles would tell his son during their talks—words that had been passed down through the generations from father to son.

It is God’s way, son. And following the way of God is the only way a good man can thrive and live in peace and tranquility.

That sentiment of God’s provision was so ingrained in the family patriarchs that it was part of the very fabric of the Walsh clan. Those words were made a part of the family’s coat of arms and remained there through modern times, generation after generation.

The year 1675 was viewed as one of the better times for the British Crown, at least on its own home soil. However, in that chaotic era and with that ever-audacious monarchy, trouble was never faraway, and the potential of conflict always loomed. Problems were emerging in the west in Ireland. More than one hundred years before, Ireland had succumbed to pressure and allowed King Henry VIII to become king of Ireland. A mere century after that occurrence, which was never a popular one in the Éire heartland, a significant revolution would wind its way throughout the entire British kingdom.

Ireland was an important agricultural region and a vital strategic stronghold for the British Crown. Nowhere on earth was there a more verdant landscape than that found on the Emerald Isle. After the luscious early-morning mist receded from valley and dale, gleaming dew clung like crystalline droplets on blades of deep green grass and bright verdant alfalfa, the hues of which seemed to bud exclusively on that blessed island. The rich soil beneath was fodder to a huge source of produce, with the Irish potato taking its rightful place as the jewel of the agrarian crown.

As a military bulwark, Ireland was strategically situated for the British Navy, and it was crucial that the Crown maintain control of the Emerald Isle and not let it fall into the hands of the enemy, in particular those of the French or the pope. The situation was more than political—it was religious. When Henry VIII could not convince the Vatican to grant him a divorce from his second wife Anne Boleyn, he dissolved Britain’s relationship with Rome and the pope. That was when the power truly shifted. The king declared himself the head of the Church of England and decreed Catholicism illegal. The world changed that day for many people, especially the Irish citizens who were predominately Catholic. The Catholic clergy, whose duty was to serve the people, were set adrift and were basically told that they could not exist. A bounty of five pounds was placed on the heads of Catholic priests. The priests were moved from village to village under the protection of the Hibernians in order for the Mass to be heard by the people. In most cases, the Mass was held in open fields on what was set up as a Mass rock altar, and the English soldiers were usually not far behind.

Britain’s worry over losing control of Ireland was not a groundless fear. It was a real possibility. French agents and Irish sympathizers were captured within English borders by agents of the Crown on a daily basis. Even British members of the Church of England were discovered with incriminating coded messages.

Fearing the loss of Ireland or even worse—the prospect of having two enemies within view on a clear day—the British Crown decided that there was only one solution. British political and military leaders agreed that a larger presence of trusted British and Scottish upper classes would shore up their defenses. They devised a land-grant incentive plan that would make relocation to Ireland attractive to these two groups of Englishmen. As it turned out, it was an ill-conceived idea that led to the unnecessary sacrifice of generations of English society. This had a devastating impact far into the distant future. Although the plan may have been a noble and meritorious one for the sake of England’s security, they misjudged the resiliency of the Irish people. The Irish would hold fast to this for many years to come; merely biding their time in the process.

All travel was dangerous and uncomfortable at best, and travel by sea was most treacherous. For this reason, most of those chosen for land grants in Ireland were selected nearly a year in advance. To provide for safer passage in the spring and summer months, notifications were sent in the fall, which allowed enough time for the families who accepted the grant to begin preparations for departure during the winter months.

In early September 1675, the Crown notified Liam Walsh that he had been selected for a land grant of 1,500 acres of prime property overlooking the northern port city of Newry in Ireland. As a further incentive, he was also granted a prime commercial location—150 paces of frontage in the physical port itself—to help expand the family business, Walsh Trading.

The community of Newry was one of the biggest ports in Ireland and certainly one of the most important in the entire kingdom. The proposition was certainly an offer that any businessman would find difficult to reject. Being a family man, Liam also had many other personal considerations in deciding how to respond to this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Although Liam was a man of means and very loyal to the Crown in both societal and business considerations, the grandness of the estate that was being offered to him would normally be reserved for someone of nobility. Despite the fact that it was typical for a fourth-generation owner of a shipping and trading company like Liam to have visited the Emerald Isle, Liam had never been to Ireland. After deep consideration, he came to the stunning conclusion that he should accept the offer from the Crown. Liam, with the single stroke of a quill, made official by the Crown’s seal, would be doubling his family’s assets. If his decision was acceptance, his instructions were to appear before the court to officially take possession of the massive estate.

The opportunity was an economic windfall as well as a huge badge of honor for the family and the Walsh name. For over two hundred years, the Walsh clan had been fighting and dying in British conflicts, sometimes on the side of the Crown and sometimes against it. Even his aged and ailing father had lost his left arm in the Battle of Worcester in defense of King Charles II. Ironically, it was the seal of King Charles II that appeared on the land grant. Yet, no one in the imperious Crown had any notion of the Walsh’s valorous military history. To presume so would have been arrogant beyond what even Liam could sanction.

The word of the grant was spreading through Edinburgh like a wildfire. Liam was away from the family home when he was presented with the offer. He was beset with an overwhelming urgency to return home to relay the extraordinary news to his family before they discovered it by some other means. This urgency was not unfounded, and his family was immediately apprised of the situation when a royal courier, speaking in Scottish rather than English, broke the news.

One of Liam’s great loves was riding up to his prodigious country estate. The grounds were spectacular, surrounding the main house with lush greenery and brilliant wildflowers. The impressive stone house never failed to instill a sense of pride in Liam as it emerged on the horizon as he neared his beloved manor.

Liam didn’t make the connection until he returned to his estate and saw the three royal carriages sitting at the entrance. Protocol dictated he would be the first commoner to know, but all royals would know first. Liam realized speculation about how he gained the favor of King Charles II was their paramount concern. It was not their manner to ask openly, but he was well aware of the royals’ demeanor and mannerism. When the chauffeurs of the three coaches left their posts tripping over themselves to fight their way over to be the first to open the door for him, Liam knew all too well the pretense and posturing would be suffocating.

So much for Liam being the one to break the news to his wife, Caroline! She was eight months pregnant with their second child. Her increasing girth and her overactive hormones had eroded propriety and spawned a temper that would intimidate a band of brigands. Liam had been dealing with Caroline’s growing waistline and declining levels of patience and tolerance for some time and figured that she had not been intimidated by the interlopers and had everything under control.

A circus was the only way to explain the scene.

This must be the largest concentration of makeup and powdered wigs in the kingdom, Liam thought to himself as he was wading through the crowd. He walked briskly down the middle hallway and immediately observed the concentrated crowd in the parlor and knew that Caroline must be at its center.

It was odd for Liam to be in his own home with so many strangers who had never before shown the least interest in him or his family. It’s amazing, Liam thought, what a rich land grant does to one’s popularity. Almost dizzy, he felt the need to take a deep breath in order to get his fair share of oxygen, the level of which seemed to be hitting uncomfortable lows. Perhaps it was his imagination or his frazzled nerves. How very peculiar—everyone was there to see Liam, and not a single one of them could identify him.

Liam had to literally snake his way through the masses to get to the center of the group to find Caroline. But when he broke through the wall of humanity, he was surprised to see that the focus of the strangers wasn’t Caroline: it was his father. Charles was in his element, or at least by his command of the crowd, it appeared so. He was surrounded by those who claimed to be fellow veterans or relatives of veterans of the Battle of Worcester. That it was a rather implausible coincidence that all these strangers were connected to the same battle as Charles did not occur to him. He was enjoying himself too much. His family had heard his father’s stories a hundred times. On this day, he had a new audience to amaze with his tales, and it was a captive audience as well. Charles was a great storyteller and was engaging the group with his talk of valor and warfare. Those gathered praised Charles and boasted that his missing arm was testament to his bravery and a more apt symbol of courage than the king’s highest order of campaign medal. Whether their laudatory remarks were sincere was highly suspect, but to Charles their words gave him new life and allowed him to relive the glory days of his youth.

That Charles could not have gotten an audience with the magistrate the day before was all but forgotten and irrelevant. He was delighting in the glow of recognition. He was finally being acknowledged as the war hero he was. As Liam turned to slip away and found his wife, he heard his father’s voice beckon. Liam! There’s my boy!

Everyone turned and looked about in all directions, but not one of them knew Liam.

Liam, come on over here, son. I want you to meet some of the other brave men who helped clear the path to bring our king to his rightful place.

Liam felt terribly awkward for being introduced to a bunch of strangers in his own home, but he would not disrespect his father. Raising a glass, Liam’s father stood and beamed at his son. Gentlemen! This is the man who you are truly here to see. This is my son Liam Walsh. He is the charge of Walsh Trading, my heir and soon to be the appointed one leading Walsh Trading on the front lines. Liam Walsh, appointed and in service to our great and honorable king who so many of us have served and risked life and limb.

Not a person could or would disrespect or deny the toast and introduction. Finally, for better or worse, Liam’s identity was known to every man in attendance.

There were at least three tiers of men of some nobility surrounding Charles, and all wishing to be the first to get a word in Liam’s ear before he got to his father, but to Liam, nothing they could say had any importance at the moment. His concern lay on only one matter. Father, where is Caroline?

She is upstairs with the staff, save for Dorian who’s in the kitchen, of course.

Just as he did not recognize the significance of the Scottish-speaking couriers, Liam would not immediately pick up on the fact that the staff and servants in his home that evening were not comprised exclusively of his own personal staff. Liam politely but purposely excused himself to leave the important guests to his father and tried to make his way to the main kitchen, which had a rear connection to the washroom and to the upper floors.

Liam intended to speak with Dorian first. He could not have known that he was leaving a snake pit and walking into an abyss. The fact that Dorian was a hired servant had long ago been forgotten by both employer and employee. Everyone in the household, regardless of position, understood that Dorian held domain over the kitchen. There was no one brave enough in the household to challenge her position, even a veteran of the Battle at Worcester.

The second she made eye contact with Liam, Dorian turned toward him, and the leg of lamb she was carrying slid off the platter and bounced a few times on the floor.

Liam recognized the look; Dorian was on the verge of a serious eruption.

My home is being overrun by the likes of something I cannot even explain to you because I am a lady, sire. If I spoke my mind, my tongue would catch fire…and this staff! Take a gander at the ingrates they have brought here to serve! Dorian grabbed the hand of a passing maid and held it straight to Liam’s face. Sire, they do not even cleanse their hands. This food is not fit for swine. The leg of lamb that hit the floor will be an appropriate addition to this tainted feast! No wonder, their masters are all sickly and short-lived.

Dorian let go her firm grasp on the trembling maid who then darted away. Dorian looked at her hand, grimaced, and wiped it vigorously on her apron.

Dorian, leave this matter to my father and take me directly to Caroline.

Yes, sire, but the lady is not happy.

Her mood is foul?

Dorian looked knowingly at Liam and nodded her affirmation.

More foul than usual, Dorian? Liam asked cautiously. He wanted to know exactly what he would be facing.

Dorian took a few steps closer to Liam and talked in a quiet tone. If I may, sir, you smell like ale, and I would respectfully advise you to sleep in the ‘quarters’ tonight. No offense, sire, but the timing is opportune. The quarters are empty. All the girls are locked upstairs with the lady.

Dorian, come with me! Let us leave the politicians to deal with the filthy servants and the defiled food. We will recover our own standards tomorrow.

When they got to the door of the second floor, the bedroom door was locked just as Dorian had said it would be. But it was quickly unlocked and opened at the first sound of Dorian’s voice. When Dorian turned to the entrance where all the second-floor suites met, there was chaos and confusion until his children saw Liam and ran to him. Strange, Liam thought, to feel blessed that I am finally being recognized in my own house!

None of the servants knew what to do. They were instructed by both Dorian and the Lady Caroline to stay upstairs. But they were frightened and uncertain. None of them knew what to expect as they watched the ‘Chosen One’ of King Charles II enter the corridor.

Liam could see the impact of his presence and was somewhat annoyed. "Everyone! It is just me. Return to what you were doing, and since Dorian advised me that ‘the food they are serving is not fit for pigs,’ I would advise against eating