Kindle Edition Amazon Category:  Historical Fiction Publisher: CreateSpace USA ISBN-10:  1539357511 Type: Fiction Pages: 333 Copyright: 2017 ISBN-13: 9781539357513 Price: $5.50 (eBook) The Weif tells the story of Lizzie Darling, a young Irish lass banished from her family and homeland at the age of fifteen for a violent act. However her wish for a peaceful life is shattered when she finds she must once again resort to violence in order to survive.  The Weif tells the story of Lizzie Darling, a young Irish lass banished from her family and homeland at the age of fifteen for a violent act. Surviving the long voyage to Van Diemens Land with the help of Bella, a loud and likeable natural leader, she finds her feet in Hobart Town with the genial Fletcher family. Working as a nurserymaid, she befriends the family tutor, Percy, and he agrees to teach her her letters. But Lizzie is to learn that nothing lasts forever.  En route to Adelaide to take up a teaching post, she is shipwrecked off Robe in South Australia. Washed ashore, she discovers that her rescuer is not as he seems and she must develop resilience and demonstrate great fortitude to escape.  Forging a new life on the Victorian goldfields, she opens her own school and becomes a respected teacher, believing she has finally left her past behind her. However her wish for a peaceful life is shattered when she finds she must once again resort to violence in order to survive. Excerpt Part 1 William Ballinagh, Co Cavan, Ireland 1836 Chapter 1 Ours was a good family and we had a happy home. However we were luckier than most, I need to say that at the outset. We had a fair-sized piece of land that had been in our family since 1766, thanks to my great-grandfather who came over from Scotland and settled here in County Cavan. Because he was a Protestant he gained a lease from his absentee English landlord. It was Great-Grandfather Darling who brought the first chickens across the Irish Sea and established our poultry business. He strongly believed that these five-toed birds, coloured white with a rose comb, were first-rate layers and provided the best meat. It’s only recently that they’ve come to be called Red Dorkings. Great-Grandfather also grew crops and potatoes on his land but everyone in Ireland grows potatoes. It was the poultry that made the real difference to our family. Stubbornly he hung onto his lease before passing it down to his son. Fortunately, the hens always enabled him to avoid the hanging gale – that’s a horrid English law which puts you forever behind with the rent and therefore open to eviction - as the steady income from both his chickens and eggs allowed him to always pay his rent on time. So his landlord was always well satisfied to leave the tenancy in our family. Ever since the hateful Penal Laws were imposed on us back in 1695, the rule in Ireland has been that the eldest son in a Protestant family inherits the whole of his father’s property or lease, whereas in a Catholic family the land or lease must be equally divided among all his sons. This was the Englishman’s way of pushing the Catholic Irish aside and giving the power to those they wanted to prosper. It was still the same when I was growing up and I believed it was grossly unfair. But it did mean that our religion definitely worked in my family’s favour for, as Protestants, we still were reasonably well off while, all around us, our Catholic friends grew poorer and poorer with each passing generation as their plots of land were carved up into ever-decreasing parcels. However my family’s profitable farm was never going to be mine, as I was the third son. There were seven of us Darling children and I was unluckily born fourth. My oldest brother, Hugh, worked on the farm and would inherit the lease when Da passed on while the second eldest, Patrick, was already away from home, studying to become a minister in our church. Unfortunately, I had neither Hugh’s fortune nor Patrick’s ambition. But I did want some land of my own one day. Nothing big of course but large enough to support a wife and raise a family. Yet in my heart of hearts I knew even this would probably not eventuate as, in Ireland, younger sons and daughters of farmers were certain to always remain poor. The best I could realistically hope for was steady work on our home farm for board. I was lucky Da had the poultry, as this kept both Hugh and me in work all year round. Without that, I would have been forced to find work with someone else and, most probably, that would have been for only part of the year. My older sister, Nancy, was already away from Ballinagh, in service under Squire Gordon in Dublin. Lizzie was due to begin work for the Earl of Longford at Streatham Hall in County Westmeath as soon as she turned thirteen. Both the girls’ appointments were due to Da’s good name and his connections around these parts. They would never have been accepted otherwise. My two youngest brothers, George and Owen, were still at school in Cavan. I lately had just passed my eighteenth birthday and, to celebrate the event, I had arranged an evening with some of my friends in Ballinagh’s only tavern, situated beside the Market House. The gathering was nothing special as we usually met for a pint or two once a week and that chilly February evening began as many others had before it. Because my four Catholic mates were not near as well set up as me, I already had told them I would stand the drinks that night even though it was my birthday. We were close, having schooled in the village and grown to manhood together. Their differing religion to mine had not dented our friendship. They worked at various farms around when they could but this was usually only at planting and harvesting. All of them earned a little extra cutting turf for their own families and for others. Peat cut from the bogs was plentiful around our parts - and mostly free if you knew where to cut it - so no family, even the dirt-poorest, needed to go cold during the long winter months. Bernie McGrath was my special friend, but Alex Keelen, John Hagen and Andrew Callaghan made up the circle. I had been getting Bernie out of scrapes ever since we started school together. Even though he was the one who always came up with an idea for mischief, he was not near as strong as me and I invariably had to take over when things went wrong. His soft nature meant he was always the first to apologise or back away when someone suffered from our adventures. The other three boys also liked him a lot and often protected him as well. To my dismay that night in the tavern, soon after their first pint, Bernie steered the conversation to abduction as he had so frequently of late. I sighed inwardly and contemplated my glass. I was heartily sick of hearing about these escapades although Bernie and the other three were obviously enraptured. Under Bernie’s prompting, they now imagined an abduction to be a grand adventure, a light-hearted prank which would spice up their lives. They seemingly dreamed endlessly of taking part in one. I wanted none of it, partly because I had a dim memory from when I was a young lad of a man being hung in Cavan for just such an offence but mainly because, for the most part, I was very content with my life. Yet I was willing to humour them up to a point. After all, they were my friends. And from stories we had heard recently, abductions nowadays were not truly considered crimes despite the fact that the law still said otherwise. Occasionally they even had successful outcomes, with the girl more than willing to marry her man. I sipped my ale, still with only half an ear on their conversation, and sat gazing across the bar to where Da and one of his friends were chatting. Da was fully engrossed in his conversation, though I could tell by his companion’s florid cheeks and waving arms that he was having difficulty in making Da see things his way. I smiled for I had inherited Da’s serene nature. We were both willing to sit quietly and ponder while others around us worked themselves into a state. ‘William, pay attention! We’re discussing your future here, boyo.’ ‘What?’ The mention of my name brought my attention back to my friends and I looked over at Bernie. ‘What would you be saying, Bern?’ ‘We have found just the right girl for you, Will! Now that you’re a man, it’s high time you took for yourself a wife.’ Little did I know then that this bold talk by my friend on this night would form into something very real and that Bernie was setting us on a course that would change all of our lives forever. I laughed and sipped my ale. ‘Really, Bernie? I don’t think so.’ ‘No, I’m serious and all, Will. Listen up.’ ‘Oh, all right. And who might you be thinking of this time, Bern?’ As he had always done since he was a small boy, he wrinkled his nose at me and winked, a merry smile creasing his lips. He had beguiled me before with just that look. ‘Catherine Rourke.’ ‘Catherine Rourke,’ I repeated. ‘And who might she be?’ ‘For your information, Mr Darling, Miss Catherine Rourke is a young woman recently settled with her father a few miles out of Cavan on the Cootehill Road. She is seventeen and quite the beauty. And, as she is the only child of Captain Rourke himself - a recently retired sea-captain - she is heiress to his property, an amount estimated to be in the region of £200. However, and more to the point, Captain Rourke’s father and older brother recently died of the cholera so the captain has lately inherited the family farm of round thirty acres.’ ‘You mean the Hilldale farm? Where old Mr Rourke died last summer?’ ‘Aye, the very same. Now, might you be interested in such a match?’ I shook my head and raised my eyes skyward but he was not to be put off. ‘It would be just a lark, Will. Something exciting to brighten up this dismal time of year. We’ll wear the customary white shirts to carry out our derring-do.’ His eyes pleaded with me to at least consider it. ‘No, Bern. Not for me. If you are wanting some excitement, you go ahead and get her yourself. I remember a man getting himself hung for an abduction.’ ‘Oh, Will, that was years ago and he did a real crime. This would be only a bit of fun. Come on!’ I continued shaking my head. ‘Will, we’ve decided. It can’t be me. You must go first.’ I shook my head again but humoured him by responding. He was like a dog at a bone. ‘Have you now? And why should I be the lucky one?’ ‘Because we’ve taken a vote and chosen yourself.’ ‘Hmm. And what if I don’t agree? Why would you be giving this beautiful young woman – if she is indeed beautiful - to me? If she’s such a prize, surely you would be wanting her all to yourself, Bernie McGrath?’ ‘No, not at all, not at all. You are the oldest, my dear friend William, so we must have you married off first. After that we can work our way down the line to me. Besides, you are much more of a catch than any of us, boyo.’ I stared at the three other lads in turn and saw they were all nodding in agreement. I shook my head. I still wanted no part of it. ‘You’re really serious about this?’ They all grinned and raised their glasses to me. Unwisely, on the spur of the moment and still far from convinced, I decided to let them have their little fantasy, at least for a while longer. I sighed. ‘Go on then, tell me your plans.’ I still didn’t believe they would seriously contemplate pulling off a heist of their own. ‘Aye, it’s high time we began planning our own little abduction,’ Bernie went on, grinning at my capitulation. ‘We are all wanting to be married and all, each settled down with a little wifey to warm our bed. And now young Catherine has fallen into our laps, so to speak. So what do you think of our plan, young Will?’ I sat there gazing at my friend, trying to work out what was going on behind those black, twinkling eyes. ‘I am truly lost for words, Bern.’ Next I regarded the others. ‘You’re all stark raving mad. I didn’t think you’d ever truly be serious about actually doing it.’ ‘Aye, we are all of us serious,’ answered John. ‘We were talking about it on the way to the tavern tonight.’ I shook my head again. ‘You’re all daft, the lot of you!’ ‘Do I take it that you’d be not at all interested in our plan?’ asked Bernie, pretending hurt. ‘Come on Will, it would be just for fun,’ added Alex. I sipped my second ale, considering all they had said. I didn’t want to be involved but right at that moment I couldn’t see any real harm in it. ‘And it would only be a bit of a lark, you say? If this Catherine Rourke were not in agreement with our plan, we would let her go again?’ Bernie was pleased I was finally taking a real interest. ‘Oh, aye, of course. We don’t want any serious trouble. But she may be willing and all, especially if she’s already made your acquaintance.’ ‘Oh, and how do you imagine I will be able to manage that?’ Bernie grinned. ‘I’m sure an enterprising young man like yourself will come up with something. Surely you could somehow contrive a meeting?’ Shaking my head again, I made a face at my friends. It didn’t sound at all likely. But maybe it would be a bit of fun and all. I would think about it some more. Maybe it would all work out. Who was to know? Perhaps this Catherine Rourke would fall for my charms and consent to marry me. I might get my piece of land after all. Strange things did happen sometimes... No, that wouldn’t happen. Fairy tales don’t happen to farming boys.

Neil Whyte
The Weif by DE Brand is a wondrous historical journey seen through the eyes of the three main characters, set in the mid-19th century. A journey that begins in a troubled Ireland and the overcrowded prisons of England and that transports the reader to the latter years of a British convict state that will soon evolve into the nation we now know as Australia. The story begins with the sentencing of a young Irishman, Will, to a 14-year sentence and transportation to the colonies for an unfortunate lark gone awry. A mere few years later, his younger sister, Lizzie, is sentenced to 7 years for assault when fending off the advances of her employer. Once on board ship, Lizzie is befriended by an older and wiser Bella, forming the beginning of a lifelong friendship.

Ms. Brand’s storytelling of Will’s degradation on board his transport ship to his years in Sydney, to Lizzie’s and Bella’s landing in Van Dieman’s Land (Tasmania) and imprisonment at the infamous Female Factory, reminded me fleetingly, and favorably, of the books within Bryce Courtenay’s exquisite Australian Trilogy. We follow their lives through the years and their ever-changing locales while they happen upon many of embryonic Australia’s more important historical events. Can Will locate his sister? Will Lizzie ever truly escape the ties that bind her? Can an entire people escape their chains and carve out a new and free life? Ms. Brand’s novel is superbly researched. And for those readers looking for a glimpse into the formative years of a nation, The Weif is a fantastic primer.


Romuald Dzemo
The Weif by DE Brand tells the story of a young girl, banished from her homeland at the age of fifteen after she commits a violent act. The book follows her adventures as she starts a new life, determined to mend her ways and succeed in life. She moves to Van Dieman’s Land (Tasmania) where she finds work as a nursery maid, eventually learning a great deal from the family tutor, Percy. She leaves her nursery job and heads for Adelaide to take up a new job as a mistress, but her plans are foiled when the ship is wrecked and she finds herself on the stranger shores of South Australia. Lizzie Darling will settle here to start life anew, opening her own school and gaining the reputation of a respectable teacher, but nothing good seems to last long for her. She’ll have to make a choice between violence and going down indefinitely.

Told in the first person narrative, The Weif is an impassioned story that looks at the highs and lows of one woman’s life, a story that is filled with realism and powerful life lessons. Readers will learn to care about the protagonist, watching as she develops, wondering if she can find redemption. DE Brand is a good storyteller and she allows her Irish culture to come through the narrative. The author masterfully handles great themes like friendship, education, change, and adventure. The internal conflict within the protagonist is well-developed and a great force drives this beautiful story. The Weif is a well-developed and engaging read.


Kim Anisi
The Weif by DE Brand tells the story of Lizzie Darling, her brother, and Bella. First, Lizzie's brother is transported to Australia because of a prank that has gone terribly wrong - then Lizzie has to find out that a woman seems to not even have the right to defend herself when a man tries to rape her. For defending herself, she is also convicted as a criminal, and sent off to Australia. On the journey, she meets Bella, who becomes an important person in Lizzie's life. Lizzie works through her years, earns her ticket of leave, but decides to remain in Australia. Everything seems to go well until fate plays some cruel tricks on the young woman. She has to learn that nothing good seems to last forever, and that cruelty is something that always crosses her path and is used against her - until she decides that she can also be cruel.

While the reader gets to hear the stories of different characters in The Weif by DE Brand, Lizzie is clearly the central character - and deserves to be so, too. She is a woman that is thrown into the deep end many times, and who has to survive in a world in which women still have little to say. The reader is taken back to the time in which convicts were sent to Australia to serve their sentence. We learn a lot about the conditions of the transport and how convicts were really treated in Australia. The historic information is woven into the story in a very smooth manner; you simply can't help but learn more about that part of history. At the heart of the story, however, is the struggle of one woman for the right to live her life the way she wants to live it. I found the plot became more and more exciting with each chapter, and while I usually do not like woman's fiction, this one was a really good read!