The Dolocher (4 page)

Mary Sommers was the only known person to have witnessed any of Thomas Olocher’s crimes. Her tearful testimony and her fingering of Olocher as the murderer of her aunt were instrumental in his being sentenced to death. Many thought that it was the fact that she had seen him slash his own legs in frenzy during the attack that had sealed Olocher’s fate. When the trial was over Olocher gave her a menacing look before he was led away to the ‘Black Dog’ prison at Newgate. She had felt that same fear she had felt when trapped in that closet while he butchered her aunt; she was breathless every time she faced him in the courtroom and even when she thought about him or heard his name mentioned she could feel the restriction of breath in her lungs and throat. She often felt while lying down to sleep that he was on top of her clutching her throat and using his weight to cave in her chest. When the trial was over, she was thanked for her bravery and testimony and was let out to fend for herself.

When she went back to where she had lived with her aunt, the landlord asked if she had any money. She didn’t and when she told him this he said that he was very sorry for everything that had happened to her and her aunt but that she was going to have to leave in a week’s time if she could not start earning enough to pay the rent on the room. Mary was devastated, and she spent that whole night crying.

She had never worked before, and she knew how to do nothing of any value. When she asked the landlord what she could do, he simply shrugged and said that she was a clever girl and that she would figure it out. She felt she was a clever enough girl, but that didn’t translate into anything she could think of to do. For two days she barely left the room she rented only going out for small bits of food. What little money she had could only go on food for now and she knew that it was going to run out much sooner rather than later no matter how little she thought she could get by on without starving.

She finally got the idea to go to the coffee houses, tea houses and taverns to see if she could do any tidying or cleaning. Though she was pretty and pleasant, she found that these places were oversubscribed with girls like her looking for work. One tavern said that their previous women had become ill and that she would fill this post for the time being, but the hours were late into the evening, and the pay was lower than she expected. She accepted though as she knew that even if she was put out onto the streets she would need every penny she could make to feed herself.

As she went to look for other work at various butchers, milliners and other trade businesses she met Sarah, a woman who was formerly a friend of her now deceased aunt and Sarah was able to secure her some work assisting in the market at Temple Bar and also as a street vendor for selling potatoes when one of the normal women couldn't make it to work- (which it turned out was a lot) she would have to give half what she made though to the woman whose position she had taken. This didn’t seem fair, but she was told that this was the common practice and that if she didn't like it she didn’t have to do the work at all and then she would get nothing.

This was all unreliable work and by the end of the week, though she had done well to make anything at all, she was in no position to be able to afford to stay where she had lived for as long as she could remember. And so on a cold October morning she walked the city with her bag over her shoulder and tears in her eyes not having a notion as to where she was going to stay that night.

After doing this for some time she found herself down by the river and she saw the trade ships lined up along the banks and others in midstream waiting to dock and she wondered if she might get onto one of them and get away from this place, get to somewhere warm where she wouldn’t need a roof over her head or clothes to keep her warm but again the fantasy was short lived, she knew nothing of other places or languages and would be as bad off anywhere as here with no money in her pockets.

As she looked out at the grey light over the river, she was lost in thought of the food and clothes that were probably being loaded and unloaded for transit to England and beyond. She huddled against the walled banks as it was acting as a buffer against the biting wind that whipped the quays today. It must have been the third time her name was said that she registered someone was addressing her.

“Mary love?” she tuned to find Sarah peering into her face. “Have you been crying dear? What’s the matter?” Mary found she couldn’t speak just then, and the tears came again as she fell into the welcoming arms of the older woman’s embraces.

“What is it Mary?” she asked after giving the girl a time to compose herself.

“I was put out of my room today.”

“And you have nowhere else you can go?” asked Sarah. Mary shook her head in sorrow and began to cry again. Sarah soothed her and rubbed her back “Now, now little girl, you can’t be crying so much over a small thing like this” she said. Mary was shocked, and she stopped crying, pulling back so as to be able to see Sarah’s face.

“A little thing!” she almost cried out.

“Look around you Mary,” Sarah said gesturing in a circle, “Almost everyone you can see has had nights where there was nowhere to stay, you are lucky to have made it to your age before it happened to you for the first time.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Mary asked, “What do people normally do?”

“You can stay with me for tonight. That will get you started and then we can try to sort something out for you,” Sarah said and almost before she was finished speaking Mary had grabbed her in an embrace and thanking her in the most effusive manner she could.

“Thank you so much, I’ll pay you,” she said.

“Don’t get too excited Mary, this is only for tonight; there are eight of us living where I do already. You will still have to get something sorted for yourself.”

“Ok,”, Mary said, and then she wondered what she could do to sort this for herself. She was going to have to find some people to live with. It Sarah had to live with seven other people she was going to have to live with at least as many as Sarah made more money than she did by a long way.

“Spend the day looking for something love. I’ll meet you back here at 7 O’clock ok?” Sarah said, and she scuttled off towards the unloading ships.

Alderman James sat in the large spacious dining room at his home on Henrietta Street. He was alone at the table now, his guests for today having gone back to work or home, and he picked absent mindedly at the now cold neck of mutton that had formed part of dinner. He was in foul temper and was glad that his guests were gone; once again they had brought up his ‘heroics’ at the time of one of the weavers riots up in the Liberties. That event held nothing but regret for him now and earned him the sobriquet that he knew well now of ‘Alderman Level Low.’

It was no secret in the city what had happened. Dublin’s weavers had fallen on hard times (it was actually weavers from all over the country as well who flocked to Dublin and made the crisis there worse than it already was) there had been a collapse in the wool market and the new fashion for Indian made garments and flashy French silk had put countless numbers of them out of work. Things had become so bad that the underemployed weavers began to engage in riotous behaviours. They would accost people in the streets and tear their clothes if they were made of foreign materials, they would even stop the carriages of the upper classes and many women had exquisite fine dresses torn and shredded by them. The result was often violence, and soon the weavers were attacking the very shops who sold the evil materials or goods with them as part of their manufacture.

On the particular day of Alderman James’ ‘heroics’ the agitated weavers had gone further than before in the rioting and many people were injured and scarred by their liberal blade strokes. A gentleman of the upper classes was pulled from his carriage and dragged through the grime at the side of the road by a group of these men and he was brought to the Liberties where they stripped him naked, painted his body with warm tar and took turns applying feathers to him.

When Alderman James arrived with the soldiers, the man was in a delirious state and was wandering around as though insane. The weavers were nearby fighting with other business owners and James ordered the soldiers to fire a volley of powder at the group in the hope of ending the violence but this behaviour was perceived as leniency and an unwillingness to shoot at them for real and the weavers began to hurl stones at the soldiers. James ordered live shot to be used for a second volley, but the soldiers fired above the heads of the rioters and were again met with boos and a barrage of stones. James ordered another live shot volley and this time as the men aimed above the heads of the rioters he used his staff to lower the barrels of the soldiers who then discharged into the crowd killing some and wounding others. This had the desired effect, and the rioters fled in all directions to escape.

James knew why he had done what he did that day; there was no other choice, he had to maintain order and that was the only recourse left to him that day, but he felt terrible about it even as he was lowering the barrel of the first soldier's musket. And it had gotten worse every day since then. His friends and peers think of this as a heroic act and one that saved much worse rioting in the long run and they never seemed to fail to remind him of it no matter how many years had passed since that day.

Alderman James had wanted to do something to make up for what he had done ever since and it was only when it was pointed out to him by the mayor himself that James had become very lenient in his disbursement of punishments for crimes in his district that he had for the sake of his career to start harsher punishments in line with the other Aldermen and magistrates. The only visible symbol of regret he showed was that he had all his clothes (as much a practicable) made from wool by local weavers, but he alone was not going to revive that dying industry.

There was a knock of the door.

“Enter,” he said without enthusiasm. A man of about five feet ten inches entered in fine clothes with a glistening scabbard holding his sword, the handle of which was adorned with some jewels of azure colour.

“Mr Edwards!” James said in surprise

“Something has happened in the Liberties,” Edwards said seriously. James stood up; he was about the same height as this man, but he was a much meatier figure with thick shoulders and neck against Edwards’ more refined and thin shape. Both had the same colour almost black hair. James poured a drink and handed it to Edwards without asking if he wanted one and beckoned for him to sit down.

“What is it Mr. Edwards?”

“Two nights ago there was an attack on one of the guards over at Newgate,” Edwards said.

“Yes I know, some men roughed him up trying to secure the release of their friend. Drunken idiots,” James said.

“That is what I had heard originally myself Alderman,” Edwards said with a sly smile cloying his face.

“And now you have heard something different?”

“Very different.” There was a silence.

“Don’t go silent on me Mr. Edwards! What did you hear?” The Alderman said in exasperation. Edwards smiled still more, and James knew that it was something good he had. He paused and studied the man’s face for clues to what he wanted. “What will it cost me this time?”

“Not a thing,” Edwards replied practically beaming now.

“Then what?”

“Well, maybe you can make sure that there are no soldiers in the vicinity of Hell on Sunday night next,” Edwards said nonchalantly.

“Why?”

“Nothing illegal as such but you know the soldiers, they just get involved with everything they see and cause trouble where there really isn’t any.”

“Are the Pinking Dindies planning to burn down another brothel?” James asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I couldn’t tell you what they are up to, but my reason has nothing to do with them,” Edwards said, “and to be fair Darkey Kelly was a murderess after all,” he added.

“How do I know what you have is worth my turning a blind eye to whatever it is you have planned?”

“It is, I can assure you of that. If what I have heard is true, it is exactly what you have been looking for.” James could sense Edward had him over a barrel. “Listen what’s going to happen on Sunday is the settling of a bet. It will be rambunctious and noisy for a little, but that is the true extent of it” James mulled this over before answering.

“Fine, now tell me what you have heard”

“That a guard of the debtor’s prison was attacked, and savagely I might add, is true but he was not attacked by drunken louts trying to free a friend.”

“Then who attacked him?” James was getting annoyed at the playing around the issue.

“Not who Alderman, but what attacked him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have it on good authority from three different eyewitnesses that the guard was attacked by some wild beast that did ferocious damage to the man.”

“What beast and what good authority?”

“One of the other guards of the prison, one of the people who was incarcerated there that evening and the victim himself”

“The victim said he was attacked by a wild beast?”

“Yes and I am afraid it was the last thing he said.”

“He died today?”

“This morning, first thing, just after I spoke to him.”

“And what animal are we talking about, a feral dog?”

“It doesn’t sound like a dog from his description, but then it doesn’t sound like any animal by his description,” Edwards said sighing and sipping from his tumbler.

“What did the witnesses say?”

“The guard says he saw something very big and black on top of the man but he also could name no animal.”

“And the other?”

“I am afraid that person only heard the attack, and they couldn’t put a name to animal they heard either.”

“So what do you think it was?”

“I don’t know to be honest but it did remind of something ghastly I heard years ago.”

“Which was what?”

“I once heard that a pack of wolves driven mad by hunger got inside the city walls of Paris; this was back in the 1400s I think.”

“And?”

“Well, they were starving and naturally they killed people and ate them” there was a glint in Edwards’ eyes that was almost lupine, and it sent a shiver through James. Edwards was the man to go to for information about anything that was unseemly or morbid but how much he knew and how much he told were probably two very different things James mused as he looked at this almost evil, mocking face.

“So you think it’s a wolf?” he asked bluntly, not willing to engage in ghost stories or mystical talk.

“As I say, I don’t know but the doctor who examined the man said there the marks from large teeth on the body, face and neck of the man that would indicate a large animal like a wolf”

“Did the doctor say anything else about what it could have been?”

“Yes actually,” and again that smile, “he said that it looked like there were hoof marks on his chest.”

“Hoofmarks?”

“Yes, that doesn't’ add up with the teeth though,” and at this Edwards stood, “unless the Devil has large sharp teeth and in that case he’s our man!” and at this he laughed out loud.

“I wish you wouldn’t speak so flippantly of the Devil,” James said also standing up.

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind it.”

“I wasn’t saying for his sake.”

“Well, Alderman James, until we meet again,” Edwards said holding out a hand which James took. “If there is an animal out there it may well do this again, even if it doesn’t if you are the one to find it and capture it you may get a new name that better fits your sensibilities.”

“Keep me posted on anything else you find out Mr. Edwards.”

“I will and don’t forget, no soldiers in Hell from about 9 O’clock on Sunday night?”

“I won’t forget.”

Edwards went to leave, but he stopped at the door and turned back to James.

“Seriously though Alderman, be careful. I know, I speak lightly of these things but the fact is an animal of some description has killed a man, and there is no reason why it wouldn’t be able to do the same to you.”

“Yes it would be a shame if you had to get into the secrets and fears of a new Alderman altogether and learn how to bribe him,” James smiled though there was nothing friendly in it.

“Don’t be silly Alderman, if you were gone I’d just see to it that whoever I wanted to would become your successor,” and he laughed out loud again, nodding as he left the room and James could hear him laughing all the way down the hallway to the front door.

When he was finally gone, James went to the window and looked out into the dark of the evening. He could feel the cold from outside through the glass pane, and he wondered what had happened a few nights ago at the debtor’s prison. He imagined himself at Corn Market with the body of a wolf dead at his feet and the gratitude of the people of the Liberties. What would they call him then? Something humorous no doubt but also just as likely to incorporate his current nickname as his real name. He never understood where the wit of these people came from, and he could predict nothing of what might be said in jest about any event that transpired.

If he could do this, get to the bottom of what did this to that poor man he would go some ways he felt towards redeeming himself but even as he thought these fantastic thoughts he felt that he was destined to be Alderman Level Low for life.

Alderman Lupine Low, he mused and this brought a smile to his face and stepped back from the window and filled his drink again.