Rosalie Hart Priour Autobiography "Adventures of a Family of Emigrants" with notes and commentary by historian Frank Wagner (indicated in green).
Chapter 5 About this time I gave him [father] a great deal of trouble. My temper is naturally bad and unforgiving. I was always my father's pet on account of being the oldest, and for having been named for my aunt, on account of having been spoiled by him. I wanted to have my own way, and go with him wherever he went. As he was going out on duty one day, I resolved to follow him. I was in the second story of the house, and in trying to escape from my nurse. I fell from the top step to the bottom of the stairs. My father picked me up, and gave me a slap. For six months after that, I never spoke to him. he tried every means in his power to regain my love. Finally, one day while going on a visit to my mother's people, I felt so excited and happy with the prospect of seeing my grandparents, I forgot my anger against father, and the old love began to return. He said he never regretted any act of his life so much as he did giving me that slap, he supposed. I looked upon it as an injustice, and that was one thing I always resented. I would do anything for those who treated me with kindness, and never harbored any hard feelings towards those who corrected me, when deserved to be corrected.
Soon after we came home, father went up to the lighthouse to call the roll. I stole away from my nurse and followed him. It began to rain, and he sent me back to the house. I ran down the hill. The yard was paved with flags, my feet being muddy and the flags wet. I slipped and fell on the scraper at the back door. I do not remember the accident, but mother told me that she thought I had killed myself when she picked me up. The flesh was scraped entirely from the bone on my forehead over the left eye, and the bone looked white as chalk
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The scar on Rosalie's forehead is readily seen in the only photograph known. Family tradition suggests the scar was the origin of the cancer that ultimately killed her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It was the beginning of a storm and even a sticking plaster [was not] to be had to draw the wound together. All they could do was to bind a wet towel over the place. The storm continued for three days, but as soon as it was safe to go to the cove, I believe it is now called Kingston, father ordered a boat and took me to the Dr. twelve miles from the lighthouse. There was only one Dr. there. He did the best he could, but my forehead was so sore and so much inflamed that he could not sew it, and I will carry the scar to my grave.
When we left home, mother thought it best to leave my youngest sister Elisabeth under the care of a farmer's wife while we were away. When we returned, we found that while eating fish, little sister had swallowed a bone and my darling mother was compelled to return to the Dr. with her so that he might extract the bone from her throat. The little one was incapable of swallowing anything and had been in that condition for two days. On arriving in town, she had purchased some candy and gave Elisabeth a piece, but not being able to eat it, she held it in her hand. When mother told the Dr. why she had brought the child, he asked to see the piece of candy she held. He told her to put it in her mouth, he then put his hand over her mouth and held her nose, and by so doing he prevented her from drawing her breath until she had swallowed the candy. This pushed the bone from her throat and relieved her in a few minutes. We then returned to our hotel. The next morning, my forehead began to bleed. This alarmed mother so much she again visited the Dr. His little son, then about eight or nine years old, was present in the office, and when he saw the wound uncovered he fainted, and had to be carried home. This caused so much excitement that it was some time before the Dr. could attend to me.
On examining my forehead, he told mother it was nothing but the coming of new flesh and should it begin to bleed again, he gave her directions for dressing the wound. Before returning to the lighthouse, we visited the lightship, stationed in the harbor, to see one of father's cousins, who was in charge of the ship. To me, it looked like the hull of a vessel without masts, but I was too young to understand for what purpose it was anchored in the bay, and told mother I thought it was very foolish in the government to have a man stationed there to watch such an old wreck as that.
Elisabeth was a perfect beauty and always ready with some witty answer. No one could help loving her. Her form was as perfect as any human form could be, her eyes deep blue always full of fun and mischief, skin as white as snow, rosy cheeks and yellow hair falling in ringlets over her shoulders. She looked like a lovely wax doll endowed with life.
One day, a party of rich Portuguese who had been visiting the different scenes of interest along the coast of Ireland landed at the lighthouse, and won by the beauty of the place, decided on having a picnic and a dance before returning aboard of the boat. As all the inhabitants were going to see the dance and hear the music, mother thought she would let my sister and I go to see what was going on and gave our nurse strict orders not to let either of us out of her sight.
While enjoying ourselves, a lady joined us and taking her lunch basket made Elisabeth eat cake steeped in wine. It was not long before she went to sleep. The lady, then taking advantage of the nurse's carelessness, carried my little sister into a cave under the hill, and concealing her under her cloak, prepared to stay until the tide would rise, as the boats had been moved so close to the shore it would be impossible for them to leave before.
The lady was very wealthy and as she had been married for several years without having any children of her own, my sister's beauty tempted her, and she was under the impression that she could get away from the place without being discovered. The child was so young, she would soon forget her own family, and think that she was her mother. But God would not permit her to carry out her wicked design.
Soon as the nurse missed her, she and I searched everywhere for her, inquiring of everyone we met if he or she had seen Elisabeth, but all in vain . At last becoming alarmed, we turned our steps homeward and informed father and mother of the disappearance of our darling. In a few minutes. the whole neighborhood were searching for her in every direction, but all in vain, and as the coast is rugged and the banks washed by the tide, they were afraid she had fallen from the hill, and her body had been carried out by the tide. The nurse could give no account of her, only that we were sitting on the hill watching the dance and listening to to music, when a lady from among the crowd joined us and gave my sister cake steeped in wine to eat, and both of them disappeared without her being able to tell in what direction. I then remembered seeing her go under the cliff, and it was supposed she was hid in one of the caves under the hill.
The search was then renewed, and every care taken to search each cave and crevice. When they were about to give up in despair, father saw some dark object in a recess in the largest cave, and upon examining more closely, he saw a lady with a bundle under her cloak, when the following conversation ensued. "Madame. will you be so kind as to let me see what you have under your cloak?"
She said, "It is nothing. I am only waiting in this quiet place until the boats can take us to the yacht. I was tired of that excitement and music at the lighthouse, and came here to rest."
"You will pardon me lady, but I am an officer, and it is my duty to see what you have concealed under you cloak." At this moment, Elisabeth awoke and, hearing father's voice, said, "Oh! Papa."
Addressing himself to the lady, he asked her why she had carried off his little girl. Her reply was to tell him her history, and how unhappy she and her husband were because they had no children, and concluded by offering to give my father the weight of the child in gold, and make her their heiress.
He said, "No, Madame, I am her father, and all the gold in the world could not buy my child, and only that you are a lady I would make you suffer for what you have done."
Oh! What joy there was that night when we could feel that our treasure was safe. My darling mother almost worshipped her lovely child, and would willingly have given all the others up to save her
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The narrative gives the name of a cove as "Kingston," which may be Kingston, i.e. the city of Cork. It is unlikely to be Kingstown on Dublin Bay. The "castle" of the text refers to any stone house, in contrast to those of turf or wattle-and-mud. The account of the rich but childless woman who abducted a child is a motif of many myths and ballads. "Bread steeped in wine" was believed a soporific. Cf. Tom Pete Cross, Motif Index of Early Irish Literature (Bloomington. 1952). Small credibility can be given this tale beyond charitable appreciation of muddling song and reality by the elderly memoirist.]
Chapter 4 - Chapter 6