THE VILLAGE - A YEAR IN THE LIOFE OF A SMALL SCOUNDREL
CHAPTER FIVE
The majority of the population of the village belonged to the One True Faith (OTF), most of whom were faithful attendees at Holy Mass on Sundays and Holydays of Obligation, who gave, if not exactly a tithe, a generous amount to the Church, but who like the characters in the Bible, passed on the other side of the road when they espied a fellow parishioner in trouble. There were of course the inevitable back-sliders whose non-conforming attitude to their religion and how Christianity should be applied, was grist for the mill of the local gossips and back-biters, but only when there was nothing more sensational to whisper viciously about, behind-hands and -backs. The minority Religionists of lesser faiths attended their own Churches or Meeting Houses, prayed to their God and were pitied by the adherents of the OTF who just knew that they, the minority, were destined for the Deepest Pit Of Hell when they shuffled off their mortal coils. Those of the One True Faith however, knew that, as long as they regularly confessed their sins and received Absolution they would, when they pegged out, be transported to Heaven, via the Purgatorial Way Station or, if they died before the age of their First Communion, spend a lengthy sojourn in Limbo - the Hell of the Holy Patriarchs - before entering Paradise.
As I mentioned earlier, the Spiritual and Temporal Leader of the Village was the Parish Priest. A large imposing figure whose badges of office were of course the Roman Collar and a large blackthorn stick. This stick was an implicit threat to any of us young tear-aways but only in our own minds. To us young scoundrels he was the epitome of all teachers and parents, this in an age when corporal punishment was the only rule when dealing with infractions or potential infractions of good behaviour. To everyone he was the direct representative of His Holiness in Rome and, by inference, God. Of course the ultimate in punishments was not corporal, it was being "Read off the Altar" where a persons short-comings were advertised to all and sundry on a Sunday Morning. He was the Clan Chief, he was a Spiritual Advisor, he was the Community Psychiatrist, Psychologist and Counsellor; his word was law and unless there was a serious criminal offence committed by a villager, such as riding a bicycle without lights or a bell or chopping down a telegraph pole in the furtherance of Irish Unity, which would attract the attention of the Royal Ulster Constabulary, all questions on canon and civil law were arbitrated successfully by His Reverence.
Keeping an ear to the ground, being aware of the latest scandals, knowing his parishioners little secrets and keeping abreast of any event which might disrupt the even harmony of life in the Parish was no easy task, but he was readily and ably assisted unofficially, by several gossip-mongers and officially by his three Curates and four schoolteachers. One of the gossips was a dear old spinster lady who, to supplement her knitting and dress-making employment, taught the Irish Language in a private capacity to several uninterested children. This lack of interest was not solely due to the boredom of trying to learn a dead language; it was also due to to an aura of a mixture of camphor, strong peppermint sweets, 'Evening In Paris' Parfum (worth nine guineas the ounce) and poorly distilled poteen (for which she had a passion) that surrounded and accompanied the lady everywhere she went. It was reckoned by the most discerning 'nose' that she could be detected at ten paces from around a corner. Anyway, this eye-watering, throat-catching stench was enough to stun the most anosmic of noses, so that it was a given, that the Irish Language was not going to enjoy a Renaissance in the Village at that time. Only she, and her supplier were not, as she so fondly imagined the only people aware of her craze for this Lunatic Soup; only those who lived outside a 5-mile radius of the Village were unaware of her taste for this Falling Down Water and her contribution to atmospheric pollution.
TO BE CONTINUED
