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                                    THE

                            EVE OF ALL-HALLOWS;

                                     OR,

                           ADELAIDE OF TYRCONNEL;

                                 A ROMANCE.

                             _IN THREE VOLUMES._

               By MATTHEW WELD HARTSTONGE, ESQ. M. R. I. A.


                Nescia mens hominum, fati sortisque futuræ
                Et servare modum, rebus sublata secundis!
                .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . tempus erit,
                .  .  .  .  . et quum spolia ista diemque
                Oderit!

                                    VIRGILIUS, Æ. x. I. 501.


                                   VOL. I.

                                   LONDON:

                     FOR G. B. WHITTAKER, AVE MARIA LANE.

                                    1825.




                                     TO

                   SIR WALTER SCOTT, OF ABBOTSFORD, BART.,

                                 &c. &c. &c.

                       (WITH WHOSE KIND PERMISSION,)

                        THE FOLLOWING TALE OF ERIN

                        IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,

                        BY HIS EVER OBLIGED FRIEND

                           AND FAITHFUL SERVANT,

                                THE AUTHOR.


                        MOLESWORTH-STREET, DUBLIN,
                            _February 1, 1825._




                                    THE

                            EVE OF ALL-HALLOWS.




CHAPTER I.

    Tollimur in coelum curvato gurgite, et idem
    Subductâ ad manes imos descendimus undâ.
    Ter scopuli clamorem inter cava saxa dedere;
    Ter spumam elisam, et rorantia vidimus astra.

    VIRG. Æ. l. III.

     *       *       *       *       *

    Lay her aloof, the sea grows dangerous:
    How it spits against the clouds! how it capers,
    And how the fiery element frights it back!
    There be devils dancing in the air, I think.

   _The Sea Voyage._--FLETCHER.


It was upon a dark and lowering afternoon, the 30th day of October, one
thousand six hundred and ---- the day preceding _The Eve of
All-Hallows_, when the Rev. Doctor M'Kenzie, at that time Chaplain to
his Grace the Duke of Tyrconnel, and who had been for some time in the
ancient realm of Scotland, on a visit to his kind relatives and friends
in that hospitable land, had formed a resolution to depart for the
shores of Ireland, to meet his noble patron. When, in pursuance of this
intention, he embarked on board "The William Wallace of Ayr," the sails
of the vessel were unfurled, and the signal-flag was seen streaming from
the pendant of the main-top-gallant, all giving true and significant
indications that the sea-worthy vessel was upon the eve of sailing, and
her destination was known to be for the northern coast of Ireland.

Torrents of rain had showered down during the entire of the day, as is
not unusual at that advanced autumnal period; these were accompanied
with loud peals of thunder, while continuous sheets of lightning
illumined and flashed throughout the darkly tinted horizon, which were
succeeded by frequent squalls of wind, that at intervals dying suddenly
away, served but to make the returning roaring blast the more
tremendous and disheartening.

The vessel was to have sailed at the full tide, but this measure was
entirely prevented by the strong and continued recurrence of the storm,
which blew with such pertinacious force and opposition that "The William
Wallace of Ayr" lay close to its anchors all that afternoon, the whole
of the night, and during the next succeeding day. About nine o'clock,
however, of the evening of the thirty-first, _The Eve of All-Hallows_,
the storm to every appearance had wholly abated, and preparations
accordingly were commenced for the ship to sail, without any further
delay, as bound on its destination. At that point of time the Reverend
Chaplain, Doctor M'Kenzie, and his servant, were the only passengers on
board. "All hands unmoor!" was now loudly and manfully rung forth by the
crew; and all matters having been duly arranged for setting sail, while
the wind blowing fresh and fair, the ponderous anchor was raised from
its oozy bed.

The reader may well imagine, from all these previous preparations, that
the vessel and crew were on the point of sailing; when, hark! the hoarse
exclaiming "halloo!" and the clattering hoofs of horsemen in full
gallop, were heard sounding sullenly on the ear, and next loudly
thundering their deep echoes through the hollow and deserted streets of
Ayr, which rivetted the sailor to the deck, and at once, as if by magic
influence, paralyzed and arrested his motions. The rapid progress of the
strangers exciting the curiosity of the sailors, called forth in a no
less degree the astonishment of the quiet and peaceable burghers of the
good and loyal town of Ayr, who were then about to retire to repose. Two
horsemen now advanced, their wearied steeds pressed onward with the
utmost velocity; who halting for the instant at the brig of Ayr,
inquired with breathless and hurried anxiety, if a boat did not there
await in readiness to convey passengers on board "The William Wallace?"
But the boat was gone! The few sailors, however, or fishermen, who
loitered on the quay, said in reply, that they had gude reason to ken
that the Bonnie Wullie had not slipped cables, sic warstling winds had
blown sic a hurricane, that the gude and bonnie ship was unco snug in
harbour.

The strangers now dashed desperately onward, as if life or death were
staked upon the attainment of their object. The vessel was not yet under
way when they arrived on the beach, their panting steeds besmeared with
blood and foam, and nearly exhausted by fatigue.

The principal personage attracted the gaze of every eye, so noble and
martial was his mien; a tall, graceful, and commanding figure, whose
whole appearance bespoke the undaunted warrior; his firm step, and manly
air, and sinewy arm, boldly told that he knew well how to wield the
falchion in the doubtful fight; while his intrepid eye blazed forth the
talisman of feats in arms and war, and nobly indicating how oft it had
flashed defiance and death upon the daring foe.

    "From gory selle and reeling steed
    Sprung the fierce horseman with a bound,
    And reeking from some recent deed,
    He dash'd his carbine on the ground."[1]

    [1] Ballad, by Sir Walter Scott.

He was enveloped in a plaid, and wore a Highland bonnet, richly
surmounted with plumes; the stranger was nearly breathless from fatigue
and the rapidity of his flight, for such it seemed to be; added to which
the pallid brow and glaring eye-balls, gave strong and powerful
demonstrations that there existed some other more influential, though
latent source--perchance, it was of sorrow! which affected him even
still more than bodily fatigue. But still these might have been only
mere suspicions, suggestions probably unjustly awakened at the
interesting moment, from the lateness of the hour, the hasty,
embarrassed approach of the stranger; and added to all this, his
impatience and manifest anxiety to embark. It might be assumed that "the
sum and front" of all amounted to no more than this. What then of the
extraordinary or the marvellous could by possibility attach to
circumstances that doubtless any individual, placed in similar
situations, must unavoidably have felt, and betrayed a strong and equal
portion of awkwardness and embarrassment to have encountered?

But without further interlocution we proceed onward with our tale. The
stranger hastily, but urgently, inquired if the vessel would immediately
sail? Upon his being answered in the affirmative, and the boat on the
instant having been hauled down to take him on board, he promptly flung
into it a small valise, which he had carried at his saddle-bow, and
instantly springing after it himself, was followed by his attendant.
When placed in the boat, he took his station at the stern, where,
enveloped in his plaid, he sat immoveably silent, wrapped in gloomy
meditation. Upon the stranger's having reached the ship, he still seemed
deeply absorbed in thought; the same continued gloom and silence were
preserved, while with hurried strides ever and anon he stately paced the
deck. At intervals, however, he would suddenly stop, and then he would
deeply and intently muse within himself, with folded arms, and dark and
lowering brow. Upon his valise was his address written, "Colonel
Davidson,----Brigade;" the term or epithet preceding the word
"brigade," was torn off, whether by accident or intention did not
appear.

All matters on board having been duly arranged and adjusted, while a
momentary interval of silence prevailed--"I say," said a sailor,
addressing his comrade, "its a fearfu' mirk to-night, which bodes nae
gude!"

"Aye, aye!" replied his companion; "but what is still warse, it is
Hallowmass; and too weel I ken that the arch-fient, wi' a' the weirds
and warlocks, will be abread, and alake! I spae the Bonnie Wullie
wull tint the gate! and then we a' maun gang down auld Davie's locker."

"Weel," rejoins the comrade, "it is a donsie night, but I'm nae fasht my
cantie carl! whare we a' maun gang togither, a' that's kenspeckle, sae
nae mair Claivers!"

"Aye, but I wiss, Sandy," replies the other, "to make a' sicker, that
the Deil haed a houd o' the haly man belaw!"

"Whom do you mean?--what holy man below do you speak of?" said Colonel
Davidson, the first time that he had noticed aught was going forward.

"A haly auld chiel belaw," rejoined the sailor, "that's boune for
Eirin."

"Who----what----how----whom do you call him, friend?"

"I ca' him nae doot Maukeenzie. Pray wha do ye ca' um, your worship?"

"Is the vessel bound for Ireland?"

"Yea it be, anely frae the gate o' the wind, that says nae to it."

Occasional squalls of wind now arose, the compass veered, the wind
became adverse; and the storm, or rather hurricane, of the preceding day
threatened to return. Under these gloomy presages

    "Short time there were for gratulating speech."

Suddenly sounds like the mournful cadence of the plaintive Æolian harp,
were heard above the waves; but no shape, no form, was visible, not
even in shadowy indistinctness: but solemn musical sounds, wherever they
might have proceeded from, and mocking the human voice, only were heard,
sad, slow, and solemn, as the choral chant, _De mortuis_.

    THE SPIRIT OF THE STORM.

    LOQUITUR.

    Where loud tumultuous tempests rave,
    And foaming surges daunt the brave;
    I mount my storm-swept throne, the wave!

    When midnight fiends their vigils keep,
    While lightnings rend the mountain's steep,
    I, scowling, rise from out the deep!

    When hope within each bosom dies,
    While heard the drowning seaman's cries,
    The raving spirit of the storm, I rise!

    Now list! with more than mortal fear,
    The dismal dirge which strikes the ear!

    THE DIRGE.

    Once we held fair Scotland's throne,
    Aye, once we claimed that realm our own;
                           Fuimus, non sumus!

    Valorous deeds our claymores crowned,
    We ever were true heroes found.
                          Fuimus, non sumus!

    But feuds, dissension, strife arose;
    Oppressed by ranks of hostile foes.
                          Fuimus, non sumus!

    Behold! the last of all our race
    Is forced to fly his natal place!
    He bears the vengeful, fatal knife,
    Deep stained by bloody feudal strife!
                          Fuimus, non sumus![2]

The chant and dirge were audible to the crew, who listened with deep
consternation, and were awfully impressed upon the recollection of the
Reverend Chaplain.

    [2] For the benefit of our fair readers, we venture to translate
    the Latin chorus to the Dirge; it means, "We have been, and are
    not!"

Every succeeding blast of wind bore increased terror as it swept along,
and every startling sound excited suspense and dismay. Again the howling
tempest burst forth, and raged with loud and renovated force, what time
the stately stranger, or more correctly to speak, Colonel Davidson, in
deep apparent despondency, was incontinently observed furiously to pace
to and fro the deck, as if in a state of mental aberration. He appeared
of more than mortal size to the terrified eyes of the beholders; his
action was wild and frantic. At one time he walked with such rapidity as
if pursued by an enemy; anon he would suddenly halt, and, folding his
arms, gaze upon the troubled deep, which seemed in unison with his
troubled mind. Next, loudly he uttered a deep and contrite groan; when
having rapidly pushed aside his plaid, he drew forth dirk, sabre, or
sword, whatever it might be, which brightly glistened in the lightning
flash; and then, with hurried impulse, he at once precipitated it down
the side of the vessel into the foaming waves. It sunk with a hissing
noise, and its descent was accompanied by a fiend-like laugh, which
arose from the billows; while at the moment, in a deep, base, sepulchral
tone, the chorus of the dirge again fearfully was chanted from the
waves:

    FUIMUS, NON SUMUS!

When this dolefully awful chorus was repeated, the Colonel's countenance
assumed the horrible expression of one writhing under intolerable pain,
and seeming to undergo the agonizing tortures of the damned! His
eye-balls flashed fire, he gnashed his teeth, then clenched his brawny
hand, and made a sudden spring, as if in the very act of throwing
himself over board. When at the moment his faithful attendant manfully
grasped him by the shoulder. The Colonel was seized with a trance, and
instantly fell, apparently lifeless, upon the deck. This fainting fit
lasted for some time. At length, however, he was heard deeply to
respire; then broke forth a hollow moan; a cold and clammy moisture was
perceivable on his face and hands. His attendant had him carried down
immediately to the cabin, where he was placed in his bed.

The unearthly dirge and chorus, as has been before observed, were long
remembered by Doctor M'Kenzie, who was then in bed in the cabin below;
and he has been often heard to express his feelings deeply excited upon
this awful occasion; and to declare, that to the last expiring moment of
his existence, he never could forget the mysterious sounds of that
ominous night!

The events, beyond all dispute, were passing strange and fearful; but
then all on board "The William Wallace" bore strongly in their
remembrance, that this portentously awful night was "_The Eve of
All-Hallows_;" and then they ceased to wonder, while each thought to
himself, that

    "Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!"

They scarcely had been a few hours at sea, bound on their destined
track, when again, with resumed fury, the storm returned. They
consequently were obliged to make several tacks, still endeavouring to
force their way upon the perilous voyage. The harbour of Ayr is a
dangerous one, and to attempt to regain it were to encounter greater
danger than what might eventually await the navigators upon the open
seas. For a length of time they beat between the isles of Arran and the
Firth of Clyde; when at last the wind changing, the breeze blew fair
from the north-east, while the staunch vessel proceeded on her watery
way. They were now sailing along the deep-indented and romantic coast of
Ayrshire, when wearied by the eternal tacking to and fro, the heat and
pent-up-air, and all the dull monotony and purgatorial misery of the
cabin of a ship, Doctor M'Kenzie ascended the deck, and thence inhaled
the invigorating and refreshing breeze, while intently, with admiring
gaze, he surveyed the bold and broken masses of those picturesque
shores, which had become strongly illuminated by the bright lightning
flashes then briskly darting over the wild masses of rock, bank, and
brae, and glanced athwart steeple, fort, and tower, o'er lofty peak and
promontory; when suddenly again all was immersed in darkness! Yet he
perceived that this interesting scene totally failed to attract the
stranger's attention, who had returned about the same time on deck that
the Reverend Chaplain had done, and continued with persevering
pertinacity to pace it, as upon the preceding day.

At that period of time nobly frowned in feudal grandeur those
fortresses, castles, towers, and rampires, which then defended the
romantic shores of Ayrshire from the sword of the invader, extending
their line of defence from Loch-Ryan to the port of Irvine; but which in
our own days have become picturesque ruins, festooned with fern, lichen,
and ivy, and affording solitary shelter to the owl, bat, and raven.

All these were passed by unlooked at and unobserved by the singular and
silent stranger; those classic shores of fame, destined in subsequent
ages to be immortalized in the ever imperishable song of the tender and
inimitable BURNS; these scenes, the favourite haunt of his "Tam o'
Shanter," the rich and verdant lawns, and the romantic rocky braes of
lordly Cassilis. All these delightful scenes were passed by unheeded,
for the stranger did not even look to shore, but studiously turned his
eyes seaward; and wrapt in deep, moody, mournful meditation, he seemed
to rejoice in the bounding billow, and in the roar of the tempest. Not
the mighty towering pyramid, of stupendous height, the colossal craig
of Ailsa,[3] which now they sailed past, could arrest his eye; nor the
fierce wild scream of the osprey, on its summit, could strike his ear,
although joined in hoarse, sullen, and dissonant chorus, by myriads of
the Solan tribe, that plumaged its surrounding base; while other
sea-fowl, like a misty-halo, hovering in mid-air, crowned its conic
crest.

    [3] "The stupendous rock of Ailsa rises almost perpendicularly to
    the height of 940 feet. The circumference of this singular rock at
    its base is about two miles; its shape is somewhat conical, and it
    is on all sides extremely precipitous. The only landing-place is
    on the north-east, where there is a small beach, formed by
    fragments which have fallen from the neighbouring rocks. The
    cliffs of Ailsa are in several places distinctly columnar; and the
    whole isle appears to be composed of rocks belonging to the newest
    Floetz formation, the individual members of which resemble those
    that occur in the island of Arran. This rock is inhabited by
    immense flocks of birds, particularly gannets, or Solan geese; and
    is rented from the Earl of Cassilis at £33 a year."--_Description
    of Ayrshire._

The vessel had just shot past Ailsa-Rock, when fiercely the rising
tempest blew such a violent gale, that it caused "The William Wallace"
to be hurried, with vast impetuosity, through the straits between
Fair-Head and the Mull of Cantyre, and then boldly to be at once
launched into the Irish Sea.

The storm now raged with such fury, that it was necessary to furl every
sail, and to beat about the entire night under bare poles; while the
pitchy darkness of the sky, added to the horrors of the storm, made
their situation still more alarming and formidable.

The Reverend Chaplain, much fatigued and wearied, thought it advisable
to retire below to his hammock; so thought too even the solitary
stranger, who, although hitherto he seemed to woo the breeze, and enjoy
the storm, yet also thought it prudent to resume his station in the
cabin, and descended accordingly.

None now remained upon deck except such of the crew as were upon
immediate duty, and who were lashed to the masts; the hatchways were
closed down, and the sea, in mountain cataracts, burst over the deck
with impetuous roar; while overpowered with fatigue, perhaps too with
fear, the passengers fell into a sound sleep. Thus passed away the first
tempestuous night of their voyage.

Before the morning watch the wind strangely and perversely changed to
the opposite point of the compass, while squall fiercely succeeded
squall; and the dawn of day witnessed them coasting, west and by south,

     "The storm-swept Orcades,"[4]

in a boisterous swollen sea, and beneath a darkened sky. Sorry we are
here to have it our duty to narrate that the vessel, probably from the
straining of her timbers, unhappily sprung a leak. All hands instantly
were at their post, and the crew exerted them-selves to the utmost in
closing the chasm, and incessantly, without respite or intermission,
plying every pump; and at length their efforts providentially fully
succeeded: for what will not determined resolution do, and persevering
unabating energy achieve! Relieved from this imminent and impending
danger, once more they proceed on their perilous course, amid this
fearful warfare of the elements.

    [4] The Hebrides.

The entire of this eventful day the storm raged with unabated fury, the
wind continuing still in the same point, and onward tumultuously they
were driven by force of wave and wind. Towards night-fall the vessel
came close to the Feroe Islands, where it shortly got hemmed
in amid a cluster of rocks, not noticed in their charts. The night was
pitch-dark. However, after an interval, the clouds partially giving way,
the moon, which was nearly full, arose, and afforded a sufficient
friendly light for the Captain to ascertain the extent of the danger
which he had to encounter. He immediately caused the gunwale to be
lightened, by throwing the guns overboard, which effectually raised her,
and the waves of the returning tide assisted in extricating the vessel
from imminent peril. They at length happily succeeded in clearing the
vessel from her jeopardy, and rescuing the crew from impending
destruction. Still, however, it was momentarily dreaded that a new leak
might break forth, or that the vessel, bulging upon other unknown rocks,
might go to pieces, and the sufferers be swallowed up by the treacherous
and remorseless deep. These apprehensions continued throughout the
entire day.

The storm ere long returned more furious than at its first onset, and
soon broadly launched the vessel into the Northern Sea,

    "While to the helm unfaithful still she lies."

The masts now became dreadfully shattered from the intensity of the
storm. Dangers and difficulties so increased, that all hopes of safety
seemed nearly at an end. Upon Providence, nevertheless, still the
hapless crew devoutly placed their trust; the Captain, from the very
perilous situation in which they were placed, was compelled to try one
desperate remedy, namely, to cut away the shrouds, and stay, and with
all possible expedition to hew down the mizen-mast. During this awful
operation the crew did not conduct them-selves like men without hope,
although around them all was danger and despair! They felt, however,
fully aware that little less than a miracle could extricate them from
the horrors which surrounded them. With instant promptitude having
obeyed and executed the orders of their Captain, with bold and skilful
celerity they soon lightened the vessel, which bounded with desperate
rapidity into the vast and boundless German Ocean: the watery world was
now all before them, and Providence their guide!

Once more it was day. Nothing however, worthy of being recorded,
occurred at that period, nor during the night.

On the fourth morning a watery sun arose in a hazy sky, they now were
close in view of the coast of Austrian-Flanders, with such rapidity, had
wind, and tide, and currents impelled them onward. They now proceeded at
the surprising rate of twelve knots an hour, the wind and tide
conjointly impelling, unassisted by any sail!

On the disastrous afternoon of this day the vessel made a desperate
plunge, striking upon a cluster of rocks some leagues distant from
land; the shock was so violent that nearly it had split the stern of the
gallant ship. Overcome by terror and fatigue, depressed by despair, and
more like the dead than the living, they remained awfully wedged in
between these dreadful rocks. Eventually, after an interval of suspense
and horror, which appeared to all as though it would never end, the
force and ascendant power of the buoyant billows heaved the vessel
completely over these formidable crags. She was now once more afloat,
but her rudder was borne away; and onward she was drifted at the sport
and will of the fiercely rolling waves.

Thus rapid was the vessel whirled, the mounting waves every moment
dashing in torrents athwart the deck. Again a second shock was
encountered. It was then all despair, desperation, madness! But, oh how
appalling to every feeling heart was the dreadful cry,

    "All's lost! to prayers, to prayers! all's lost!"

Still in this state awfully the vessel rapidly was impelled, and
approached more closely to the coast of Austrian-Flanders. But alas! it
is our painful lot to record the unhappy fate of "The William Wallace of
Ayr;" when approaching Ostend the ill-omened bark struck upon a sand
bank, which but too truly is called "_Banc-Dangereux_;" then her
crushing timbers fatally loosened, and, dissevered by the convulsive
shock, promiscuously scattered upon the surface of the waves were seen
floating the disjoined wreck, shattered spars, divided stores, bales of
cargo, &c., along with the mangled corses of the dead, and the
struggling bodies of the living, all commingled, and tumultuously
undulating upon the agitated billows. But providential it was for the
survivors, who, in number, we grieve to state, were but few, that this
dreadful catastrophe occurred so closely to the shores of Ostend. Sorry,
however, we are to relate that all the crew (except two persons)
perished; and that among those who were saved, we have only to count the
Captain of the ship, the Mate, the Rev. Doctor M'Kenzie, Colonel
Davidson and his servant, these forming the very confined list, we
regret to say, of those who survived the terrors of that eventful day.

Impelled by the resistless call of humanity, several boats had put out
from the harbour, perceiving the perilous situation of the poor unhappy
sufferers; so that when the dread event took place, these were ready and
prompt to save the remnant of those who survived what time "The William
Wallace"

    "Bulg'd at once, and in the deep was lost!"

The humanity of the Flemish sailors was rewarded by preserving the lives
of five individuals, as we have already observed, from a watery grave;
great manual and unwearied exertions were necessary for success, and the
unhappy sufferers were landed in safety upon the quay of Ostend.

Ostend is well known to every intelligent reader as a strong fortified
sea-port; but at the period of our narrative it did not appear under the
most favourable point of view, from the devastation that had ensued in
consequence of the long protracted siege of three years and three
months, which it had sustained against the Spaniards, under the command
of Spinola,[5] when fifty thousand of the garrison and inhabitants
perished in this fatal siege, either by disease or the sword; which
losses were severely retaliated and multiplied by the deaths of eighty
thousand of the besiegers!

    [5] This, by the way, seems too like a bold anachronism of the
    Reverend Gentleman's, but it has been correctly transcribed from
    the M'Kenzie MSS. at least _omnia quæ extant_. However, for our
    own part we must say, that we are strongly inclined to acquit the
    Reverend Gentleman and scholar upon this score, inasmuch as he has
    high authority to plead in self-defence the Bard of Mantua having
    thought proper to make Æneas and Dido cotemporaries; and yet the
    former flourished ONLY two hundred years before the building of
    Carthage! with which anachronism to compare the Doctor's little
    historical lapse, were indeed merely to match

    "A mole-hill with Olympus!"

Upon their landing on _terra firma_, Colonel Davidson and Doctor
M'Kenzie put up their quarters at the old Saint Michael Inn; and there
having been refreshed and invigorated by a hearty substantial meal,
which fully and essentially answered every purpose of three or four
breakfasts, dinners, and suppers, they heartily congratulated each other
in a bottle of genuine and veritable Rhenish wine, upon their most
miraculous escape from a watery grave! They subsequently retired at an
early hour to repose, overcome, as they had been, by their sufferings
and fatigue both of body and of mind, to recover, by the renovation of
slumber, "kind Nature's gentle restorer," from the lassitude and horrors
of this eventful day.

The next morning they arose quite, or nearly, recovered from their past
sufferings; however, with the exception of the Reverend Gentleman, who
rather somewhat gravely grumbled at the perils which they had passed.
Nevertheless, with good seeming appetites, both began a tolerable _coup
de main et de fourchette_ upon the breakfast placed before them. Doctor
M'Kenzie observed, while he and the Colonel were sipping some admirable
coffee, assisted by the _agréments_ of excellent Flemish bread and eggs,
and swallowing _con amoré_ some Malines ham, which, accompanied with a
flowing flagon of Louvaine beer, no doubt put the grave and Reverend
Gentleman into the following train of thought: "I feel, my dear Sir,"
said he, "such a decided and unconquerable objection to a sea-voyage, at
least for some time to come, from which, although it may be silly in
sooth to say I have suffered so much, yet for the present I quite forego
my intention of returning to Ireland--I have indeed too much in my
recollection the

    'Quæque ipse miserrima vidi,
    Et quorum pars magna fui----.'

I therefore purpose to proceed to Aix la Chapelle for the benefit of its
waters. Indeed so great is the decided repugnance which I feel to again
encounter an aquatic expedition, that in the words of our old classical
acquaintance, Ovid, I needs must confess that--

    '_Æquora me terrent, et ponti, tristis imago!_'

    'The expansive ocean now affrights me,
    And sad the mournful aspect of the deep!'

Moreover, gallant Colonel, I must say that I prefer the peaceful scenes
of nature and rural life to the war of elements, and the rage of
battle!"

"Well spoken, my Reverend Sir, like a peaceful gownsman, and quite
becoming the doctrine of that Gospel of which thou art a sacred
minister. But as for me, I like the din of battle, the neighing of the
noble war-horse, and the battle-stirring trumpet's brazen voice, the
groan of death, where contending squadrons commingle in the dreadful
shock, chorused by the cheering shout of victory."

The Colonel had just, in an emphatic tone of voice, twice shouted
"victory!" and had fiercely made another gallant attack upon the Malines
ham, when the door of the apartment was rudely opened, and entered by a
party of Gen d'Armes, who immediately proceeded to arrest them as
prisoners of war, on suspicion of being spies; and after a short
interval they both were led off and escorted to prison, where, attended
by the Colonel's servant, for the present we needs must leave them,
however reluctant, in durance vile.

       *       *       *       *       *

The above Chapter, unquestionably in unison both with the history and
chronology of our Tale, should indeed occupy a much more remote station
in this our Romance of the days of superstition; but as we felt and
considered it of importance, and besides imping too our flight with some
portion of epic boldness, we have nobly dared and adventured to dash at
once "_in medias res_;" in the pursuance of which truly magnanimous
determination, courteous reader, we shall tell thee fair and softly, yet
in candour, that we shall necessarily be obliged (if thou wilt so
graciously permit us) to make some retrograde motions in the subsequent
chapters.

But, gentle reader, if thou wilt deign to recollect, that once a year
even mighty Sol himself, beneath Cancer, the influential sign of the
summer solstice, becomes retrograde. When thus we plead such high
authority thou wilt not perhaps deny an extension of the same privilege,
albeit to a disk, small and insignificant even as ours, undiscernible by
the eye of a Brinkley or a Herschell![6]

Permit us then, kind and patient reader, to retrace our steps and story
to the early part of this our notable history; then shalt thou learn the
birth of our interesting heroine, and become acquainted with personages,
characters, and events, connected with our Tale, which we trust thou
mayst find to be withal not unpalatable to thy taste; for which favour,
and all retrogressions, and progressions, and egressions, (we hope no
transgressions!) thanks and health to thee, mild and patient reader! We
laud thee for thy gentle forbearance and good humour in having
accompanied us thus far in this our long peregrination; wishing,
courteous reader, that thou couldst bestow on us the "_plaudite_" of old
Plautus, but without his _valete_, as we shall meet anon!

    [6] Since the above was written Dr. Herschell has paid the debt of
    nature. The other celebrated astronomer lives, and it is hoped
    providence will yet grant him many years to preside over the noble
    science which his powerful mind so ably illustrates and adorns.




CHAPTER II.

    Still in the vale the village bells ring round,
    Still in TYRCONNEL hall the jests resound;
    For now the caudle-cup is circling there,
    Now glad at heart the gossips breathe their prayer,
    And crowding, stop the cradle to admire
    The babe.

    HUMAN LIFE.


The lovely Adelaide Raymond, the heroine of our Tale, was the only child
of Raymond Duke of Tyrconnel. An old prophecy or tradition had
immemorially prevailed, that what time a raven should build her nest in
the ducal coronet which decorated the summit of the loftiest
pavilion-tower of the castle, a male heir, upon this event, should then
be wanting to the noble house of Tyrconnel. And this sad occurrence, so
deprecated by the dark and credulous terror and tenor of those
superstitious times, actually occurred some months previous to
Adelaide's birth: a raven had then built her nest within the ducal
coronet; and a few posts after brought an account that Lord Richard
Raymond, the Duke's only brother, had been killed in a duel at Paris.
From this partial fulfilment of the augury the Duke's dependants were
filled with the melancholy forebodings that the Duchess, expiring during
the pains of parturition, should give birth either to a still-born, or a
female infant.

However the latter supposition proved to be well-founded, as the Duchess
was soon safely delivered of a female child, in due and given time, upon
the Eve of All-Hallows, the 31st day of October, in the year one
thousand six hundred and ---- pending the bodings of the raven, and the
vaticinations of the vicinage.

The family of Tyrconnel, through the female line, traced their high
descent from a proud and ennobled ancestry, (not less illustrious than
that of the noble Duke;) the pedigree was traced from the high
chieftain, famed _Nial Necalloch_, (or, Nial of the Nine Hostages,) who
in his glorious and chivalrous career had achieved various noble feats
in arms. But not content with these successes at home, he sought for
fame in foreign lands, where in the ardent search and attainment of
glory, his gallant course of valour run, he closed his brave and
honourable life amid the sunny regions of France; where this warlike
planet, this Mars of Erin, expired upon the banks of the Loire,[7]
falling like the valiant Richard I. of England, "The lion-hearted," by
the arrow of the assassin.

    [7] Histoire d'Irlande, par L'Abbe Ma-Geoghegan, _tome_ 1.

Indeed the house of Tyrconnel might be truly called _a noble family_,
"for all the daughters were chaste, and all the sons were valiant." PER
ACUTA BELLI was the motto which fearlessly they bore, and which, ever
unchanged amid the war-trumpet's clang, the burst of battle, and the
shouts of victory, or the dismaying groans of defeat, they proudly and
nobly maintained; their escutcheon might oft have been encrimsoned by
the blood of the bold, but it still defended the heart, and was upheld
by the arm of the brave!

The Duke traced his ancient, lordly, and lineal descent from Raymond
Count of Toulouse, who was the first zealous champion in serving, and
enthusiastically heading, the Christian cause in the holy wars.

Adelaide Raymond, the only child of Raymond Duke of Tyrconnel, was born
upon the 31st day of October, _anno salutis_, one thousand six hundred
and----upon the Eve of All-Hallows, as we have already noticed. His
Royal Highness James Duke of York, (brother and presumptive heir to
Charles II.,) and who afterwards succeeded to the throne of the triple
realms as James II., upon this happy event was most graciously pleased
to signify his royal intention of standing sponsor for Lady Adelaide;
which high distinction was gratefully and proudly accepted by the Duke
and Duchess of Tyrconnel; and the Lord Glandarrah was chosen as proxy
for the royal sponsor.

Adelaide almost immediately after her birth had been privately
baptized; but the first day of May, which had now arrived, was the day
appointed for the state christening. The Duchess d'Aremberg, an early
friend of the Duchess of Tyrconnel, stood godmother for the Lady
Adelaide, and appointed Lady Lucy Raymond, the Duke's youngest sister,
as her proxy. Nor did the Duchess d'Aremberg forget to send a baptismal
present upon this august occasion, which arrived in due season, in the
shape and form of an infant's cap and frock, all beautifully formed of
exquisite Brussels lace, and made under the eye and express directions
of the illustrious godmother: and to these were added a scarf and sash
of rich Mechlin lace. Nor did Her Grace omit also to send, as was then
usual, a handsome _honorarium_ to the child's nurse, Mrs. Judith
Braingwain, with whom our gentle reader, in due and given time and
place, shall become better acquainted in the following pages of this our
eventful history.

But with due leave and respect we must now be permitted to say a word or
two concerning the ancient and noble baronial castle, where the high
and exalted ceremonial of this day was with such pomp to be celebrated.

The castle of Tyrconnel was situated in the province of Ulster, where
its majestic stately ruins still remain magnificent even in decay. It
stood upon the verge of a triangular village, to which it gave its own
ennobled name, as it was the generic name at that period of the town and
the county, which was a district of large extent. Since that time, in
these our modern days, the ancient name of Tyrconnel has been changed
into Donegal.[8]

    [8] This castle now belongs to the Marquis of Conyngham.

The castle is boldly elevated upon the rocky and precipitous margin of
the river Eske, which rolls its impetuous torrent into the Atlantic
Ocean, from which it is only half-a-mile distant. Mountains surround the
castle on every side, except to the west, from which point receding,
they open a noble vista to the sea, and give a solemn and magnificent
character to the entire scenery. Here the curving and fantastic
outlines of the distant mountains, clad in aërial blue, arise in endless
and beautiful variety, glowing or darkening with every varying tint and
tone of sun-shine or of shadow, reflecting each rainbow hue of the
atmosphere, and then boldly blending sky and mountain into one
congregated mass of undefinable tint; so that the dark blue cloud which
rolls above can with difficulty be distinguished from the dark blue
mountain that, towering, frowns beneath.

The approach to the majestic steep where this ancient and celebrated
fortress stands, is through the well-known pass of _Barna-More_, or the
great gap; which is here formed by the opening arms of the stupendous
mountain of Sleavedoon, whose gigantic heights constitute vast
continuous barriers to the extent of fourteen miles, girdling within
their extended embrace a varied and lonely valley, which expands and
smiles beneath.

This massive fabric was planned and piled in the twelfth century by the
first Earl of Tyrconnel, and was then, and subsequently for a series of
years, garrisoned as a fortress. The castle, although by no means
deficient in architectural grandeur, yet appears to have been
constituted principally with a view to strength; and that object
unquestionably in those days was fully attained, for it was utterly
impregnable to all hostile attacks in that early age. The form of the
castle is square, and flanked by frowning turrets of similar
conformation; the ground-plan is constructed upon an extended scale, and
the design of the building is withal irregular: a large magnificent
quadrangular court-yard adorns the interior, which is surrounded by
bastions, battlements, and towers.

There is a projecting barbican, whose fragments yet remain still boldly
overhanging the river Eske, and which seems to have been intended for
the purpose of supplying the castle with water, while it is also
supposed to have been occasionally used as a donjon-keep, and which
afforded an expeditious mode of despatching the prisoners whom the
haughty Lord refused to surrender, or was unwilling to maintain, by
plunging them down the vortex of the ceaseless current which rapidly
rolls beneath.

When the Duke of Tyrconnel resided here several small pieces of cannon
were pointed from the embattled bartizan of the central tower, adding to
its ornament as well as to its defence. The grand front of the castle
was situated seaward; to the west extended a lofty terrace; the
embrasures of the parapet wall which enclosed the terrace were furnished
with about a dozen of twelve pounders; while the deep foundations of the
bastions were moated by the impetuous waters of the Eske, fiercely
rolling onward to the Atlantic Ocean.

This lordly pile was this day (the 1st of May, one thousand six hundred
and----) destined to be the scene of uncommon festivity and grandeur;
indeed such pomp and magnificence never before were witnessed within the
walls of Tyrconnel castle. All the nobility and gentry in the country
for many miles round were invited to assist at the baptismal banquet
given for the noble and lovely infant; and every princely preparation
was in readiness duly to celebrate this distinguished day.

The noble banner, quartered and emblazoned with the ancient bearings of
this illustrious family, from its gilt flag-staff, which was crowned
with the ducal coronet, proudly floated over the high central tower,
which latterly had obtained the _agnomen_ of "the raven tower," from a
circumstance which already has been related. The guns on the parapet
fired a loud _salvo_ to welcome the happy day; while the ancient harper
(old blind Cormac) and the piper were put in immediate requisition, to
add the notes of harmony to the loud reports of joy.

The tenantry and peasantry, both male and female, were invited, and
gladly came, clad in their holiday suits, to partake of a rural banquet,
prepared expressly for the occasion within marquees erected on the lawn.
The costume of the servants of the Duke was truly princely, and all who
wore livery appeared richly apparelled in their state attire of green
cloth, deeply laced, and embroidered with gold. The old cathedral tower
pealed forth many a merry chime, which duly was responded to by the
distant tinkling of the surrounding village bells.

While these preparations were advancing, the Duke happened to be walking
upon the terrace, and hearing old Cormac touch his harp and prepare to
sing, with the intent, no doubt, that his voice and strings might sound
in due tone and harmony at the approaching festival; the Duke had the
curiosity to step onward to hear the notes of the aged minstrel--for he
was both minstrel and harper; and His Grace listened to learn whether
old Cormac had composed any rhythm or song for this great and happy
occasion. Accordingly with this fixed intent His Grace advanced to the
door of the great hall which led out to the terrace, and which happened
to be then open; from thence he listened, and heard the following lines
sung by Cormac, which the old man accompanied with his harp:--

    CORMAC'S SONG.

    Loud strike the harp! and raise the song!
    To Raymond shall the verse belong!
    And hail his noble, lovely child,
    The image of her mother mild.

    O softly rest, sweet baby there,
    And as thy morn, thy life be fair!

    Long may that smile of angel grace
    That now illumes thy beauteous face,
    Attend thee through life's stormy race!

    May no mischance destroy thy rest,
    Be thine the sun-shine of the blest;
    And when thy earthly course is past,
    Be thine the joys shall ever last!

    Friendship on earth be thine, and love,
    And thine eternal bliss above!

The Duke felt exceedingly pleased at the attachment and feeling
expressed by the old man in his extempore song, although he might not
think very highly of the poetical composition. But the words came from
the old man's heart, and the strain to which his harp rang forth was an
old Irish air, so the Duke was fully satisfied; and having advanced and
entered the hall, he approached old Cormac, and in a gracious tone he
said to the sightless bard, "Thanks, Cormac, accept my grateful thanks;
and moreover, here is largess for the minstrel, and withal it is stamped
in gold." So having said, he passed a gold _Carolus_ into the minstrel's
hand; for which bounty, with tears flowing from his sightless eye-balls,
the grateful old man made a low and respectful obeisance, adding due
courtesy.

Here the Duke retired to dress, to receive his company; and meeting with
his physician, Sir Patricius Placebo, on his way, he deputed him to do
the honours should any of the guests arrive while His Grace was attiring
for the banquet.

Sir Patricius Placebo had been created a baronet by king Charles II., in
grateful return for active services and personal kindnesses performed in
favour of the monarch during his long exile from the throne of his
ancestors; and he was, through the favour of His Royal Highness James
Duke of York, who afterwards became James II., introduced, with every
favourable recommendation, to the Duke of Tyrconnel.

Sir Patricius Placebo now became forth-with family physician to the
Duke. He had been baptized plain Patrick, but assumed that of Patricius;
whether it was selected for the euphony of the sound, or the dignity
which it implied, or both considerations probably swaying together, the
reason of the selection has not been sufficiently defined, nor do our
historical annals record the cause. But thus the baronet in sooth was
called, and so he wished to be designated.

The attire of Sir Patricius was in due accordance and conformity to the
medical costume of the time, which is worthy of being preserved as a
historical morceau. His head was enveloped within an enormous bushy
peruke, which at this period was confined to the learned professions, or
those who affected gravity. This said peruke was _bien poudré_, and upon
its summit was perched a small gold-laced hat of triangular shape and
form, fastened with gold loops, and a button at the sinister side of
said triangle. His costume was a rich black velvet coat, without a
cape, made single-breasted, with long and portentously extended skirts,
starched, and stuffed, and stiffened forth, with a magnanimous
expenditure of stay-tape and buckram; from out of which sprung, and
sparkled forth, the ornamented hilt of a small sword. The sleeves of the
coat were large and slashed, each capacious enough to have contained a
moderate sized turkey. The waistcoat, formed of the same materials, was
likewise in unison with the coat, single-breasted, with long flaps or
skirts, which might have given no bad idea of the Roman _sportula_. His
cravat was formed of the richest muslin, deeply edged with Mechlin lace,
which, after passing several times around the neck, meandered through
the button-holes of the waistcoat, so as nearly to reach the extremity
of the waist. His small-clothes were made likewise of black velvet,
according to the curious, and certainly not very seemly fashion of the
times. The hose, or stockings, were of scarlet silk, which were tightly
drawn up, and ascended the knees upon the exterior of the small-clothes,
and that too to the very utmost of their outstretched extent; at the
ankles the hose were adorned with clokes of gold net-work.[9] The shoes
were fashioned with broad square toes, made with short quarters and high
tops, and were so highly polished that they might well indeed have
elicited the admiration, if not the envy, of the fabricator (if then
living) of "Warren's jet blacking!"[10] The shoes were fastened by small
square gold buckles richly wrought. His solitaire of rich black satin,
must not perish in oblivion, along with all the dignified _et ceteras_
of a proud chevalier of that chivalrous day. His ruffles and chitterlin
were of rich Poyntz lace; while over and around his shoulders was flung
a long Spanish _cápa rópa lárga_, a large wide cloak or roquelaire of
rich Spanish cloth, the inside dyed white, the exterior scarlet; and it
is certainly imagined that no one ever yet stood in proximity with the
Doctor's red flowing roquelaire without wishing mentally for the
approach of a fire-engine!

    [9] Silk stockings first became usual in the reign of Elizabeth.
    These articles of finery "were curiously knit with open seam down
    the legge, with quirks and clokes about the ancles, and sometimes
    (haply) _interlaced with gold or silver threads_, as it is
    wonderful to behold."--_Beaumont and Fletcher_, vol. v. _Note_, p.
    353.

    [10] "Shining shoes" are often noticed by Massinger, Jonson, and
    other old dramatists.

But we must now complete the portrait of Sir Patricius. He constantly
carried an Indian cane, surmounted with a gold head of beautifully
perforated filligree-work, the interior of which contained cotton
steeped in aromatic vinegar; and it was amusing to behold with what
dignified gravity and grimace he ever and anon applied the said cane to
the olfactory organ, and with much seeming satisfaction. When this
stately toy was relinquished, it gave place to a more magnificent bijou,
in the shape of a gold snuff-box: upon the lid was inserted a miniature
of Charles II. by the celebrated Samuel Cooper. And let it be remembered
that "he was the first who gave the strength and freedom of oil to
miniature!" This fine production of original genius was appropriately
encircled around with large brilliants. The act of snuff-taking was
slowly performed by the grave pressure of the thumb and fore-finger of
the right hand, deliberately and ceremoniously performing a curve, or
segment of a circle, while with a sly and approving gaze he contentedly
ogled a large diamond ring placed on the little finger. When the Baronet
spoke it was with a rich and most mellifluous brogue, and to which the
tone of consequence did not seem wanting: albeit to those who invited
him to a good dinner when the Duke was absent, or who annually
vouchsafed to take or order a box of his _Pillulæ Vitæ_, he was, in
sooth, a very pleasant, accommodating, and polite gentleman.

Sir Patricius was standing on the terrace, and leaning thoughtfully upon
his cane, when Captain Heaviside rode up to the steps; and alighting
from horseback, he ascended the stately terrace. Captain Heaviside was
all things to all men--ay, and to all women. He was the _pious Æneas_ in
church, conventicle, or chapel; but he was the _dux Trojanus_ in the
grotto or drawing-room.

"Good morrow, Captain."

"Sir Patricius, your most humble servant."

"Would you wish, Captain, to view the demesne?"

"Certainly, Sir Patrick--I mean Sir Patricius. I beg pardon, dear Sir;
but will you first allow me to jump out of these leathern turrets? I
hate all confounded French fashions."

The Captain retired to the chamber appropriated for him. There freely
disengaged from the ponderous encumbrances which were worn at that era.
After a few moments he rejoined the Baronet in the great hall of the
castle. It was not then the fashion, _à la Turke_, to wear mustâches;
nor was it considered necessary to announce the approach into
the drawing-room or dancing saloon, of the man of war, by the loud clank
and clatter of his iron heels, steel chains, and brass spurs, or the
ponderosity of an immense sabre, enclosed in an iron sheath, and
"dragging its slow length along." No; Captain Heaviside came in
full-dress, according to the studied propriety and etiquette of the age.

The great baronial hall was sumptuously fitted up as an armoury; the
walls were adorned with all the ancient arms and weapons which were
peculiar to Ireland; it was wainscoted with carved native oak; the
ceiling also was of oak, ornamented with carved, basso-relievos of
armorial escutcheons, armour, warlike weapons, coats of arms, crests
mottoes, &c. Several horns of the moose-deer, of immense dimensions,
surmounted the architraves and door-cases. At either end of the hall
were two large fire-places, with gigantic chimney-pieces of Irish
marble; the central compartment of each was decorated with armorial
sculpture, representing the Irish harp, surmounted by the radiate, or
Irish crown, the supporters, two wolf-dogs of the Irish breed, and
underneath, in Gælic, a motto under each device; the interpretation of
which, partly in allusion to the Irish wolf-dog, as also to the manly
character of the inhabitants of the island, was, "Gentle when soothed,
fierce when provoked." Various war-weapons tastefully displayed and
arranged, of ancient Irish make and form, glittered upon the walls; viz.
spears and javelins, "the heavy broad-eyed spear of battle," swords,
daggers, skeines of iron and brass, two-handled swords, and among them
conspicuously shone forth the double-handled sword of the renowned NIAL
NECALLOCH, richly ornamented and inlaid with gold; metal halberts were
arranged in the same class with tuagh-catha, _i.e._ battle-axes, tuagh
suaighte or clipping axes, fiadhgha, crannuibhs, spears, clubs, Irish
lances, spears, javelins, jacks, corslets, haubergeons, targets,
bucklers, pavices (shields), cailmhions, salets, skulls (_i.e._
helmets), sceptres beautifully inlaid with gold, fibula (brooches) of
brass, silver, and gold, richly and exquisitely wrought; bits and spurs
of an enormous size, and inlaid with gold; druidical scythes, ancient
Irish harps (the _cithara_), ancient Irish trumpets of various kinds and
names, the stuic or stock, the buabhall, the beann, the adharc, and the
corna or bugle-horn; the dudag, the gall-trompa, the cibbural or
corabus, the cornan or cronan, and the iachdarchannus (_quasi_, _cantus
bassus_.) But here we close our antiquarian summary, as we begin fairly
to suspect that many of our readers have no partiality to such ancient
researches; suffice it then to say, that all these various specimens
were arranged in diversified ornamental shapes and forms of sun, moon,
star, and crescent, that fancy could conceive or taste execute.

Here Sir Patricius again proposed to the Captain to accompany him in a
ramble to view the grounds; to which Captain Heaviside readily and
gladly assented. As they stood upon the terrace, Sir Patricius said, "My
worthy Sir, just as you had arrived I was upon this spot, thinking with
what taste and judgment my very excellent patron--

    (_O et præsidium et dulce decus meum!_)

has so much improved and adorned these lawns, when, Captain, I can well
remember what they were. Great natural capabilities, no doubt, presented
them-selves, and His Grace has acted upon them with spirit, taste, and
judgment, and withal no expense has been spared. However highly meriting
the meed of praise, which doubtless His Grace so well is entitled to, I
was just thinking of the great Archimedes, who so sagely and
appropriately said,

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

And I----"

"I must beg a thousand pardons, most gallant, illustrate, and learned
Sir Patricius," said Captain Heaviside, interrupting the Baronet, "but,
under favour, my good Sir, I do not in verity understand one word of
_Hebrew_; no, nor any of these nostrums; albeit I have little doubt that
Archimedes the great was, in good sooth, a most famous and skilful
physician and gifted leech in his celebrated day."[11]

    [11] The reader will have the candour to recollect that this can
    mean no disparagement to the military profession.--This was said
    when knowledge was limited to the few--one hundred and forty years
    ago.

"Nay, Captain Heaviside, I cry nay. Mark me, he was a geometrician and
astronomer, and very celebrated as both! The passage which I have put
into the mouth of the renowned philosopher of Syracuse is Greek; and if
I may be indeed permitted to pique myself upon any kind of erudition,
(although, perhaps, in modesty I might say, _Vix ea nostra voco_), I
should then pride myself upon a knowledge of the Greek tongue; and
moreover too, the proper pronunciation and due intonation of voice, what
Horace so sonorously and emphatically calls the _ore rotundo Græcorum_.
Indeed I do flatter myself that I speak the best Greek beyond any other
person in the island!"

"Oh, come, no disparagement, good Sir Patricius! to all your learned
acquirements; you excel in speech, and no doubt succeed as well in the
gift and exercise of your pen! but I, Sir, the hapless child of wayward
fortune, am only acquainted with _this_! [half drawing his sword from
its scabbard.] On this simple stake rest all my fortune and my hope,
which, while I have a hand to wield, shall be held forth in the defence
of my king and country!"

"Well said, i' faith, my master! and spoken nobly, like a brave and
honest soldier! Ay, to be sure, Sir! _every man in his vocation, Hal!_
as the inimitable Shakespeare sagely saith; although, nevertheless, a
little knowledge methinks, after all, to the tune of the old proverb, is
in sooth no great burden! But come, presto! we shall change the topic
and the scene. The day beams forth its vernal glow beneath a brilliant
sky, and the melodious strains of the feathered songsters, vying in
harmonious notes, invite us abroad. Come, we have stayed too long."

Thus at last the learned physician and the preux chevalier sallied forth
to behold the varied and noble domains of the illustrious proprietor.
The lawns, shrubberies, walks, gardens, &c., were all kept with the
greatest possible care and neatness. Several artificial lakes fed by a
living stream, and of great extent, so as to seem as if placed there by
the hand of nature, wound along beneath the shadow of ancient groves,
and fully diversified the scene. The lawns and parks were smooth and
verdant as a bowling-green from the frequent pressure of the roller.
While the walks, parterres, and terraces, were so trimly kept that not a
fallen leaf was to be seen; which order and regularity was placed to the
account and agency of several old females, habited as witches, whose
brooms, ever on the alert, kept all in due and perfect neatness. Part of
the grounds which adjoined the castle were laid out in that
old-fashioned style which we confess we are antediluvian enough to
admire; however, be it known that no tree, shrub, nor ever-green,
whatever, was clipt and mutilated by the shears to shrink into the
abortioned form and pressure of a wizard's broom, or a true-lover's
knot! no pyramid of clipped beech, no cypress-tree which assumed the
fantastic form of Cleopatra's needle. No: nor did shivering Adam and
Eve, and the cold clammy serpent and "forbidden tree," astound the
spectator in shorn yew; no fountain impotently attempted to spring
upward in boxwood; no such puerilities were tolerated to disfigure by
grotesqueness the scenery of nature. So far on the contrary, that every
thing was in good taste--at least it was so at the distant time of which
now we write. The grounds were laid out in what would now be called the
improved English taste: here lawns of richest verdure, and cultivated to
the highest degree of luxuriance; there wild rocks of granite or
limestone, as placed by the hand of nature, trailed and festooned around
with lichen grey and ivy green; while the _Osmunda regalis_, the royal
fern, spreading wide its majestic plumes, and undulating in the breeze,
gracefully waved and bent over the apex of these romantic rocks, and
gave a pleasure to the eye that scenes of nature only can bestow. The
terraces which surrounded the castle were kept gravelled and rolled to
the extreme of neatness, and were hedged with luxuriant myrtle. The
_now_ old-fashioned ponds, which it would have been little less than
sacrilege to remove, reposed beneath the terraces, which gave a tone of
grandeur to the whole; _jets d'eau_ sprung from the centre of these to
an elevated height, and over the head of many a triton and river deity;
while the waters, as the declination of the ground permitted, bursting
forth at once the bonds of artificial force, they

    "From large cascades in pleasing tumult roll'd,
    Or rose from figured stone,"

brightly spreading and sparkling beneath a brilliant sun. It must,
however, be admitted, that it was somewhat chilling, even in the merry
month of May, to behold the shivering deities who presented them-selves
in cold tangible marble _sans chemisè_, _sans robè_, _et sans drapè_,
while they sentinelled the verdant banks of pond, lake, or canal; and
which, in some degree to qualify our praise, we are ready and free to
admit were after all somewhat _selon le ecole d'Hollandè_!

Here suddenly a vernal shower coming on, the Doctor and Captain, at no
great distance from the castle, were glad to make a race to avoid a
wetting; and before their dress could receive any damage they entered
the castle-hall, having luckily accomplished their object. Sir Patricius
now proposed to show to Captain Heaviside the Duke's great gallery of
paintings, _pour passer le temps_ until the hour appointed for the
baptismal ceremony should arrive.

Just at this moment the Duchess of Tyrconnel drove up in her equipage to
the castle door. It was a low demesne cabriole, drawn by two small
ponies, and driven by a postillion; in it was seated the Duchess, Mrs.
Judith Braingwain, the nurse, and in her arms the lovely child, the Lady
Adelaide. Sir Patricius hastened forth to hand them from the vehicle,
and the Duchess most graciously saluted both her guests, the little
Adelaide sweetly smiled, and the Duchess with all due courtesy retired.

"There she goes--there goes Her Grace," said Sir Patricius; "that highly
intellectual lady; the _rara avis_--the black swan of literature of this
our day--my right noble patroness; shining amid her compeers a bright
star of intellectual, and literary, and domestic worth, and rich indeed
in all,

    'Velut inter ignes
    Luna minores.'"

Captain Heaviside here rejoined--"Although, Sir Patricius, I knew well
that the Duchess gave with her noble hand a distinguished fortune to the
Duke, yet verily I did not until now learn that Her Grace had any estate
in the _Minories_!"

"No, no; ha, ha!" said Sir Patricius, with a most self-applauding laugh.
"Oh no! nor in the _Stannaries_ neither. But _allons nous donc, mon
preux chevalier_! Apollo and the muses now invite us.--So, ho! to the
picture gallery." To which the learned Theban and the valiant Captain
now hastily ascended.

The grand picture gallery, which now they entered, was of truly
magnificent dimensions, and lighted from an elevated dome. This truly
splendid collection of paintings was most judiciously arranged on the
walls of the superb gallery, collected and selected with a taste and
discernment that spoke volumes in praise of the liberality of the
distinguished collector. This splendid gallery was adorned with the
_chefs d'ouvres_ of the most ancient celebrated masters; forming, on
entrance, a truly grand and most imposing _coup d'oeil_ of the
different works of Reubens', "the prince of painters;" Raphael, "the
divine!" Angelo, Guido, Titian, with a long and noble extended _et
cetera_, too magnificently formidable to be here introduced.

The first painting which they approached was from the pencil of Teniers;
it was that of his famous _Alchymist_.

"This," said Sir Patricius, pointing to the painting, "is a work of
Teniers!"

"Vastly fine, indeed, Sir Patricius!--Oh, monstrous fine! grand,
expressively sublime! eh! But here," added the surprised Captain, "what,
_ten years_!--was the patient artist employed ten years thereon?
Monstrous length of time! what sad solemn patience and perseverance the
fellow had to be sure!--tedious faith, as the old siege of Troy!"

"No, no, my very good Captain, I did not say that the renowned artist
was _ten years_ employed in accomplishing this fine painting, but merely
announced that his distinguished name was Teniers."

"Oh, a thousand pardons, Sir Patricius!--eh--_ten_ thousand pardons! But
then the painting is truly monstrous fine!--upon my s--l it is vastly
fine indeed--eh!"

The next painting which they approached was the famous painting of
Europa carried off by Jupiter in the shape of a bull, from the
distinguished pencil of the celebrated Claude Lorraine.

"The painter who has produced that truly ennobled specimen of his divine
art," said Sir Patricius, with great pomp and emphasis, save when he
was interrupted by a constitutional cough, "the painter, hem, hem, hem,
was, Sir Captain, let me tell to you, inimitable! He deeply studied
nature, and hence he acquired that elevated _gústo_, which has justly
stamped a superlative value upon all his masterly works; his truly
lovely landscapes, glowing with Italian suns, and with Italian verdure,
_Italia diis sacra_, hem, hem, hem! Yes, bold Sir, upon these he acted,
and on the noble inspirations of nature! verifying on glowing canvass
the most apposite and veritable saying of the great and learned
Archimedes,

    'DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!'

That, brave Sir, means--'Give me a point to stand upon;' and Sir, aye
Sir, I shall move '_the great globe itself; yea, and all that it
inhabit!_'--That, Sir, is a Claude!"

"Heaven and earth!--_clawed!_ What do I hear," said the astonished
Captain, in a most lachrymal tone; "_clawed!_--what a thousand pities!
irreparable--hopelessly irreparable! Indeed I always knew too well that
cats were most destructive, malicious animals. But say what inducing
cause--what motive? here was depicted no lively representation of rat,
rabbit, pigeon--no, nor mouse! wonderful! 'Fore Jove I swear, that all
the confounded pestilential breed of cats in the county should swing
before I should endure to have such a noble painting as that _clawed_ by
any cat o' the mountain in the province!"

Here Sir Patricius Placebo raised his intelligent eyes in dumb despair,
very nearly indeed allied to positive contempt. But after a short
momentary gaze of astonishment, and a slight expression of contempt, his
muscles relaxed into a cheering smile; and seeing from the window, as he
looked out, some of the guests to arrive, he gaily said--"I see clearly,
Captain Heaviside, that you prefer living faces to their mute
representation on canvass, so let us adjourn, _si vous voulez_, and
attend the ladies; and egad I think I can show you some fine girls;
there, Captain, you see are some fair specimens, the six Misses
O'Carrol, and all dressed so gay in pink, blue, and crimson, smiling
and blooming like a bed of budding pæonies in June!"

"Vastly koind, good Sir Patricius; vastly koind, _j'irai la sans
failler_, eh?--Yes I do admire pretty girls exceedingly; and I must say,
by Jove, that I prefer them to all your _Hebes_, _Cupids_, and
_Ganymedes_, on copper, canvass, or panel!"

The chimes of the bells of the ducal chapel now gave warning note that
the baptismal ceremony was nigh at hand, and all the guests consequently
approached the sacred edifice. And at the high altar, gorgeously
decorated, from a golden ewer the ceremony of ablution was performed.
When the lovely Adelaide received the sprinkling she smiled most
sweetly; and as her nurse, Mrs. Judith Braingwain, (whom we shall hear
more of anon,) afterwards very appropriately told it: "Heaven bless the
dear bonnie babe, how sweetly it was she smiled bekase she was made a
Christian cratur!"

The ceremony concluded upon the return of the noble party to the castle.
Cake, caudle, and wine, and various confectionary, were dealt out with
no sparing hand. Many of the company sat down to different card-tables,
and played, as was then the fashion, at ombre, cribbage, loo, _jusquè a
díner_, when they were entertained at a most princely and magnificent
banquet.

The Duke of Tyrconnel received all his guests with frank and due welcome
and courtesy. His Grace was attired in the following costume:--a large
well powdered peruke, which freely flowed over the splendid mantle and
robes of the order of the garter. His Grace also wore the magnificent
collar and gem, and resplendent star, of the illustrious order. His
stockings were of light blue coloured silk, and drawn up in a fashion
similar to those of Sir Patricius Placebo; and around the left leg,
beneath the knee, was buckled the embroidered and mottoed garter, which
pertains to, and from which this distinguished order receives its
appellation. The stockings were adorned "with quirks and clokes about
the ancles" of gold withal, and curiously and richly wrought.

The Duke of Tyrconnel was considered as the handsomest man of the age,
and upon this occasion looked uncommonly well, every inch the nobleman.
Lord Glandarrah was attired in the magnificent robes of the order of the
Bath. All the guests, of both sexes were splendidly arrayed, and the
entertainment passed off with undiminished eclat.

But we have already exceeded our limits, and have yet to speak of the
highly gifted Duchess, who indeed deserves a chapter to be appropriated
to herself, to which we shall now proceed, and to the acquaintance of
other persons, matters, and things, connected with this our delectable
history.




CHAPTER III.

    Hæc mulier, genere atque forma, preterea viro atque liberis,
    satis fortunata fuit: litteris Græcis et Latinis docta, *  *
    *   *  prorsus multæ facetiæ multusque lepos inerat.

    SALLUST.


The noble guests sat long and cheerfully to celebrate with due honour
the baptismal day; while potations of claret, liberally flowing, and
constantly renovated from _magnum_ bottles, according to the approved
custom and social fellowship and habit of the times, were deep and
frequent.[12] The splendid supper which followed the sumptuous dinner
was accompanied with the unqualified commendations of Sir Patricius, who
insisted "that it even excelled the Roman banquets of Lucullus or
Apicius; and was in sooth so luxurious, that, verily, his old friend
Flaccus would have called it a _dubia coena_; and although they had
neither the juice of the Tuscan nor Falernian grape, they had still
nobler potations to quaff!" And it has been currently reported that his
actions sagely comported, _pari passu_, with his asseverations, that he
"suited the action to the word," and did most ample, nay summary
justice, to testify beyond all possible contradiction how highly his
palate lauded the excellence of the entertainment! All this was
confidently and cautiously whispered, and discreetly intrusted to a
chosen few. But it met with the fate usually attendant upon all such
confidential communications, _videlicet_, to be made known and published
in a few hours to the unselected many; or in other words, to all the
king's liege subjects throughout the vicinity!

    [12] This fondness for drinking is noticed in Lord Strafford's
    Letters.--"In Ireland, where drinking was grown a disease
    epidemical."--_Appendix to Lord Strafford's Letters_, vol. II. p.
    433.

The supper was served at ten o'clock; an hour which was considered at
that period as late, and was prolonged still later, while jest and joke,
and revelry, and song, and glee, and glass went round; and at a
protracted hour the guests retired to repose; and thus terminated the
social hilarities of the festive night.

The Duchess rose upon the following day at an early hour, as invariably
was her custom, and having retired to her classical cabinet, opened the
latticed casement to admit the enlivening rays of a brilliant vernal
sun, and to inhale the balmy breeze of the morning. It was truly a
beauteous spring morning; the Eske rolled rapidly over his stony
channel, pouring forth his tributary torrent into the peaceful bosom of
the Atlantic Sea; while with mournful plaint the wood-quest called her
mate, perched on her favourite sycamore; and the red-breast and linnet
sweetly warbled forth their matin-hymn from bush and spray,

    "To gratulate the sweet return of morn."

The Duchess of Tyrconnel was indeed an extraordinary woman, highly
gifted by nature, instructed by education, (in these days, certainly an
unusual occurrence), and still more learned from her own assiduity and
perseverance. All this was the more remarkable, when we pause to
consider the period in which she lived! The vast powers of her mind were
demonstrated by the universality of her knowledge, the various
accomplishments which she possessed, her acquaintance, even to a
colloquial knowledge, with several different languages, the numerous
acquirements, in all of which she excelled. No less distinguished was
the Duchess of Tyrconnel for her singular modesty, her unaffected
manners, and that retiring grace, at once characteristic of those high
endowments which flung around her such imposing charms. Indeed it has
generally been remarked and acknowledged, that affectation and conceit
are seldom found to be connected with genius, but are the satellites of
those who would usurp her throne; and that the never-failing attendant
upon true genius is simplicity of manners.

The Duchess had been educated at the convent of Vernon sur le Seinè,
where she was wont

    "To walk the studious cloisters pale,
    And love the high embowed roof,
    With antic pillars massy proof,
    And storied windows, richly dight,
    Casting a dim religious light."

Here, during her novitiate, the Duchess (then Lady Katherine O'Nial)
formed a friendship with a young lady, an inmate at the convent, which
terminated only in death. The friend of her youth was the beautiful Lady
Adelaide Alençon, daughter of the Duke of Alençon. They became dear and
inseparable friends, from similarity of taste and talent. The _idem
velle_--the _idem nolle_--was theirs! The same, or nearly the same,
distinguished talents, a similar and uncontrollable wish for
information, led them on in the paths of science and of literature, of
virtue and of religion. Then, oh! how delightful it was, after a short
sojourn with their friends, again to return to the sacred convent, and
to hear at early morn the solemn anthem from the hallowed choir, which
pealed over rock and flood, deeply re-echoed by the convent walls: or if
at eve they returned, to hear floating upon the silent and slumbering
bosom of the Seinè the sad and solemn evening vesper, which was wafted
to the skies!

But this pure and disinterested friendship was doomed to be only of
short duration. Lady Adelaide Alençon's powers of mind were superior to
the fragile tenement they illuminated and adorned, and over-studiousness
brought on a consumption, which unfortunately was a hereditary disease.
The physicians ordered the patient to remove to Tours, from thence to
the aromatic isles of the Heyères. But, alas! it was all in vain! The
promises at first were fair, like expanding snow-drops on the cold
breast of spring, which blow--then bloom--then die! But each sad
succeeding account only brought fresh accession of regret; and at an
early age, in the ever-blooming green islands of the Heyères, the lovely
and the gifted Lady Adelaide Alençon drooped, and pined, and died!
deeply deplored by all her relatives, and justly and duly lamented by
her friends.

    "The hectic form, the beauteous maid,
    That just as life its charms displayed,
    To death devoted, glides away;
    With brilliant eye, that watery gleams,
    While still the rosy spectre dreams
    Of many a morrow gay."

Upon the deeply regretted event of Lady Adelaide Alençon's death, the
Duchess made a vow that if she married, her first female child should be
called after her first regarded, her early and lamented friend; and to
this cause our heroine was indebted for the illustrious name which she
bore.

The Duchess, even during her juvenile abode at the convent of Vernon
sur le Seinè, had manifested much talent and infinite taste, and at that
early period had displayed an extraordinary degree of ingenuity and
delicacy of tact; she cut paper into an innumerable variety of figures,
characters, and landscapes, solely dictated by her own genius, and
executed with much taste and spirit. Her Grace also drew in crayons,
flowers that were so naturally depicted, that they seemed to have been
recently culled from the garden. She was conversant, besides, with vocal
and instrumental music; and, moreover, displayed much skill in
oil-painting and in sculpture: indeed her talents seemed to rival those
of that noble and distinguished lady, Anne-Maria Schurman.[13] A
proficient too in etching. Her writing in various languages was
inimitable. She was also perfect mistress of the Greek and Latin
languages, and understood and spoke with facility French, Italian, and
German; and no less excelling in the sciences of geography, astronomy,
and philosophy, with many other rare acquirements, which we shall pass
by unnoticed, as we do not choose to classify this gifted lady with the
heroines of romance. Under the guidance and instructions of such a
mother everything was to be hoped for, if not realized, in the education
of an only and beloved daughter--her first-born, and possibly her last;
certainly her only one!

    [13] For an account of this noble and distinguished lady, see
    "_Moreri Dictionnaire Historique_," folio, Paris, 1654, tome VI.
    p. 173;--and Descamps, in his "_Vie des Peintres_," &c., tome II.
    Paris, 1754, makes the following honourable mention of her:
    "Anne-Marie Schurman, les Poëtes Hollandois nomment dans leurs
    vers cette fille illustre, leur Sapho et leur Cornelie: si elle a
    merité les éloges de ses compatriotes, elle a aussi obtenu les
    suffrages des grands et des sçavants de l'Europe," &c.--Tome II.
    p. 119.

With all these splendid acquirements, the Duchess was an ardent admirer
of the beauties of nature. She took delight in beholding the sun, with
glorious burst, to ascend and illuminate the lofty mountain-peak; and at
night to behold the starry host of heaven, the moon, and all the
unnumbered stars that gem with imperishable lustre the canopy of the
skies. Even while the morning dew impearled the grass, she was wont to
traverse the verdant lawn, with "daisies pied and violets blue;" all
these charms of rural nature gave delight and indescribable pleasure to
a mind at peace with itself, and in harmony with the tranquil solitude
which surrounded her. Who can doubt, then, that it was with unmixed
contempt that the Duchess looked down upon the green and frivolous field
of a loo, tredille, or cribbage-table, and that even primero had no
charms for her!--a preference at that period very remarkable, and that
completely puzzled all the suppositions and gossipings of the courtly
card-playing dowagers of those courtly days.

However, with all this wild love for nature, and with all those
commanding accomplishments to boot, we cannot, howbeit, deny that the
Duchess was proud of the country which gave her birth, and pardie proud
perhaps too of her own ennobled descent; although we must observe that,
with due discretion, she was never known to dwell upon the latter, while
upon the former, conversant as she was with the aboriginal language of
her country, when time and opportunity offered, she then indulged
herself therein, in learning the wants and the necessities of the lower
orders; and, furthermore, in acquiring a knowledge of the character and
the feelings of the native Irish, with which the more she became
acquainted, the still more she became endeared.

While thus we have been endeavouring to delineate the mind and
acquirements of the Duchess of Tyrconnel, we must, however, not silently
pass by her remarkable costume, for this is strictly in unison with the
history of those times; and it must be confessed that it was
sufficiently _outrè_ and extraordinary. Her Grace's head-dress, or
head-gear, was strangely elevated, indeed we might say castellated, upon
the stiff, formal, and firm foundation of an internal satin cushion, on
bastion of silk, surmounted by a natural coronal of fine auburn hair; so
that she might have been mistaken for Cybele, the mother of the gods;
and like the goddess too, she was crowned with the model of a citadel.
The hair was raised with such force, that it appeared from the process
to be nearly starting from the roots. A double tier of curls formidably
flanked and circled round this superstructure, on which were arranged
three magnificent rows of eastern pearls, while above was placed a
costly coif or cap of superb Brussels lace, bordered with Mechlin. Large
pendant diamond rings sparkled in each ear; a superb brilliant necklace
glittered on her bosom; her kerchief was of the richest Poyntz lace; her
jacket or bodice was short, formed with close sleeves, and made of light
blue Spanish cloth, adorned with longitudinal stripes of gold. This
bodice was fastened at the breast, so as to form a most splendid
stomacher, by means of two parallel superb rows of large brilliant
diamond buttons, which were interlaced by crimson ribbons, enclosing it
in front. The sleeves were of deep crimson velvet, trimmed with rich
gold net-work. The petticoat was of rich blue velvet, festooned by
golden cords and tassels, and richly trimmed with a border of deep gold
net-work. The petticoat, it must needs be confessed, was distended to a
disfiguring circumference, swelled out by the unseemly and uncouth
bell-hoop, which was then the appanage to a lady's full dress, and still
further increased by long peaked stays, which gave a most Dutch-like and
awkward solemnity, if not an armorial stiffness of carriage, to the
wearer.

Her Grace's shoes were of red Morocco leather, with high tapering
heels, so elevated as to form with the sole the outlines of an arch; and
the colour, to contrast with the red upper leather, was blue. The shoes
were tastefully stitched and worked in a pattern of gold-thread work,
and fastened with diamond clasps. The hose were of light blue silk,
ornamented with clokes of gold.[14]

    [14] There is another item of Her Grace's dress which is not
    noticed above, as it was only used on occasions of going abroad to
    visit, or when on horseback; we speak of a velvet mask, worn by
    ladies of rank at this period, and for which a high duty was
    imposed upon their being imported from France.

Upon the festival of the previous day the Duchess was thus attired as we
have endeavoured to describe her state dress; her beautifully formed
hands and fingers were adorned with bracelets and rings set with "gems
both rich and rare;" while her animated countenance, and still more
brilliant eyes, and affable manners, spread joy and delight around the
festive circle which she graced and adorned.

We must here by no means whatever pass over an important character in
the _dramatis personæ_ of our history, (at least so she was in her own
personal estimation), and forsooth be it known too, moreover, a highly
privileged person. We here venture to speak of Lady Adelaide's nurse,
Mistress Judith Braingwain, who was in every respect most truly Irish.
Her superstitions were deeply rooted, so that nothing could shake them;
and her belief in ghosts, wraiths, banshees, and fairies, and all that
was marvellous, was truly orthodox. She believed in astrology, then much
in vogue; in dreams, omens, prognostications, and

    "Chimeras all, still more absurd or less,"

and all the attendant phantasmagoria of credulity. Mrs. Judith's
attachment to her country was great and strong, as likewise was her
affection for her child; but her whole stock of fondness seemed to be
concentrated in her foster child, whom she actually loved better than
the child she had borne in her own maternal bosom. "My dear, dear child,
my darling," she would say, "oh, my Adelaide! may the sun-shine and
peace of this world ever be thine _mavourneen_!" [i.e. my beloved.]

Mrs. Judith's dress[15] was so perfectly and truly aboriginal, that it
may amuse the reader, and possibly afford a reminiscence to the
antiquary, while we notice it in the following description.

    [15] See Cooper Walker's able Essay on Irish Dresses.

The curious specimen of Irish costume worn by persons in Mrs. Judith
Braingwain's station in life, prevailed in Ireland at the close of the
reign of the second Charles, and during the reign of his successor,
James II., the patron and friend of the Duke of Tyrconnel. It was as
follows:--

Mrs. Judith wore placed upon her head-top a cushion of linen or stuff,
which she called her "system;" it was not dissimilar, save in its want
of utility, to the roll or plait twisted cushion of hay used by
milk-maids in carrying their pails; but with this difference, that it
was not flat, but rose higher to the back of the head; it was fastened
and attached by long pins, and over and around this under-structure she
combed and attached her long hair, of which the Irish were always proud,
even to absurdity, and which withal looked as stiff and formal as if it
had been hewn out, the work of some primeval statuary, sternly staring
in stone, certainly most Medusa-like, upon some ancient tomb! This most
strange redoubt or fortification of hair-work was supported by a
side-battery of two curls on each side of the head above the ears, and
masked on high by a little round cap or coif, surrounded with a cambric
border, over which was thrown a kerchief, which being made fast upon the
apex of the head, was allowed to fall down carelessly behind, where it
streamed, when she walked abroad, like a banner over a fortress. Her
jacket was of brown cloth, and made to fit close to the shape, by means
of whalebone scientifically, as now we would say, wrought into it both
in front and at the back, but managed so as not to meet; while it was
laced in the front across the breast, forming there a stomacher, and
evidently borrowed from the Spanish costume. The sleeves, halfway to the
elbow, were constructed of the same kind of cloth as the jacket, and
from thence they continued to the wrist, formed of longitudinal stripes
of red camlet, interwoven with green ferreting, and then being turned
up, formed a little cuff, embraced within three circles of narrow green
ribbon. Her petticoat was formed of scarlet broad-cloth, bordered with
three rows of green ribbon. Her apron was of green serge, striped
longitudinally with scarlet ferreting, and bound with the same. Her hose
were of blue worsted; and her shoes were of black leather, laced with
scarlet galloon, and ankle high, and withal mounted upon heels of a most
portentous height. But _eheu! jam satis_, we are glad to have done with
this specimen of costume, of which we are not over fond; but writing of
the history, &c. of the times, from such we found it to be our bounden
duty not to depart or swerve one single iota.

The Duchess allowed to nurse Braingwain very extensive liberties, and
latitude of converse too, induced by the affectionate, nay, almost more
than motherly care which she bestowed upon her child; as well as amused
withal, she permitted nurse occasionally to show off that strange
originality which she possessed.

The Duchess having gone through her morning devotions, ascended the
nursery to embrace her dear child, who was sweetly and serenely
reposing.

"See, my honoured lady, how sweetly _mavourneen_ sleeps! Och, and may be
I didn't dream last night that my dear young princess was one day to be
queen of auld Ireland; and in troth, in my dream, sure enough I saw, not
a crownet, but a royal crown placed upon her sweet baby brow. But as for
you, my lady Duchess, I moreover drimt that Your Grace was created
_Impress of Europa_--and long, long, my lady Impress, may you live and
reign over us, and over all the world besides! Musha amen, says a
grateful heart!"

"Prithee, Nurse, be silent; you will awake my child with your
nonsensical rodomontade!"

Just here a message arrived from the Duke, that he wished to speak with
Her Grace in his closet. The Duchess immediately left the nursery, in
obedience to the ducal summons.

The Duke took the Duchess by the hand: "Here's great news, my Kate!
Charles is dead, and the noble York that was, is now monarch of England;
and permit me to kiss the fair and lady-like hand of the vice-queen of
Ireland," he said, gaily kissing Her Grace's hand.

"Why, my Lord Duke, I really believe that you have laid this scheme of
cajolery with so very great a personage as the very high and mighty
lady, Mrs. Judith Braingwain, who even just now saluted me with the _all
hail hereafter_! of Macbeth's witches: for Duchess of Tyrconnel though I
be, yet Empress of Europe I _am to be_, or "Impress of Europa," as I was
styled. What think you of that, my Lord? Surely I must feel quite
shocked and horrified, as you must well conceive, at this dreadful and
unexpected downfall from my high imperial state! Only think,
at once too, without meet preparation, to be deprived of the diadem
which fancy was fitting upon my brow, and _only_ to be dubbed vice-queen
of Ireland; oh! my Lord, you must needs confess what a provoking falling
off was here! But no; it will not do; I am resolved that I must be
empress, or only simple plain duchess!"

"Now Katherine you think I am rallying, but no such thing, I seriously
assure you a patent has arrived, constituting and appointing me, and so
forth, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland! And now, fair lady, I must kiss the
hands of the vice-queen of Ireland, according to the statute in that
case made and provided." And having thus gaily spoken, he affectionately
and tenderly embraced his Duchess.

"Well then it appears quite a hopeless case, your patent has arrived;
_you not only achieve greatness yourself, but likewise have greatness
thrust upon you_, as Malvolio says; so I suppose that you must have even
the grace to submit, and entrap yourself forth-with in the harness of
office. As for my part, I shall sigh for the charms of the dear country,
and would rather wear a simple coronal of hawthorn-blossoms than a
diadem studded with resplendent gems, and "the rich east to boot;" and
I, my Lord, warn you, for you must prepare to hear ejaculations from the
towers of Dublin castle somewhat to the tune and measure of--_O rus
quando ego te aspiciam?_ Then you, my Lord, with your high waving plumed
crest of chivalry come rushing up to the turret, fancying that you are
most heroically about to liberate some captive dame, or forlorn
princess, who has been cruelly incarcerated by some old cruel-hearted
necromancer, when I shall fly into your arms, forgetting pomp and power,
and even the divine country too; I will rush into your bosom, and only
remember that I am your wife--_the wife of Tyrconnel_!"

"Bravo, bravo, _viva, viva, sémpre l'imperatrice_!" exclaimed the Duke
in rapture. "Yes, dearest Katherine, you are the empress of my heart,
and need never, never fear a rival near the throne: come then to my
arms, and with your simple diadem of hawthorn I shall ever adore you, in
cottage or in palace!"

The Duke was a Major-General in the army, he had served under the
banner of the illustrious Turenne, and his royal patron the Duke of
York, now James II., had also fought beneath the same victorious
standard. The Duke was considered the handsomest man of the age, and was
beloved alike in camp and in court. His knowledge and attainments were
great; he was not only _aliquis in omnibus_, but also _singularis in
omnibus_. He was indeed--

    "A courtier of the chamber,
    A soldier of the field;
    Whose tongue could never flatter,
    Whose heart could never yield!"

The Duke's two sisters, Lady Letitia and Lady Lucy Raymond, who
constantly resided with him, affectionately approached to congratulate
their brother upon his appointment to the viceroyship. "Oh joy, dearest
brother!" they both exclaimed, while each at the same moment kissed the
Duke's cheeks.

Lady Lucy had been educated abroad, and was always speaking in warmest
raptures of "the dear continent," or of whatever was foreign, or
_recherché_. Indeed her friends were obliged to admit that it was a vast
pity that Lady Lucy, with all her amiable qualities, should be somewhat
a little tinctured with conceit; and apprehended, that as it had been of
long continuance they feared it was too late to be remedied, her
affectation having become something very like second nature. Thus argued
her kind, consoling friends, who sat down most contentedly beneath the
shade of their own sage conclusions.

Lady Lucy continued her expressions of joy in a sort of soliloquy: "Oh
really this will be quite deloightful! quite _imposé_! surpassingly
deloightful! Why actually we shall hold a little court of St. Germains
at Dublin castle!"

Lady Letitia during her infancy had been a sickly child, and, in
consequence of her inability to travel, had remained at home; while her
family were sometime resident abroad, and her education was wholly
unattended to; or to speak more explicitly, was never once thought of as
a matter of the slightest concern--no uncommon occurrence in the olden
time. This deficiency at this period was not confined to two or three
noble families;--nay, gentle reader, start not, for thou wilt please to
recollect that we are speaking of what happened above one hundred and
forty years ago. In consequence of this neglect Lady Letitia made such
broad and palpable mistakes, and of so extraordinary a kind, as could
not of failed to have beaten that modern personage, Mrs. Malaprop, of
blundering notoriety, completely defeated from the field.

"No, Lucy, no!" rejoined Lady Letitia, "No, nothing _German_; neither
caps nor boots, rats, whiskers, nor muskatoes. I hate every thing
German; no, our court shall not be a German one, but a second St.
James's. And old Cormac shall compose such a grand ode upon the solemn
occasion, to be said or sung in the old hall at Dublin castle; aye, and
we shall have duly chanted for my dear brother such a noble hypothesis
as ear never----"

"Apotheosis, you mean, Letitia," said the Duke, interrupting her. "Yes,
indeed, _that_ would be a _solemn occasion_; but I pray you be not in
such mighty haste to send me so soon 'unanointed, unanealed,' to the
other world before my time too; this is not altogether so kind, sister;
and besides, previous to the possession of the honours which you would
somewhat too prematurely celebrate.----But a truce to this badinage; I
must forth-with prepare for my journey to take possession of the
government of Barataria!"

Sir Patricius Placebo now advanced to join and congratulate the family
circle, and to express his joy upon the Duke's appointment. "My Lord
Duke in verity believe me, that this day there exists none whose
feelings and whose heart are more truly gratified by this gracious
selection of my sovereign than what mine are; and I also must
congratulate your Grace's friends, and the country too, at the happy
choice which king James has made. And I further beg to say, with meet
reason, and under due discretion and correction, that you confer more
honour upon the king by your acceptance of it, than His Majesty has done
you by the presentation. Yea, and I may truly and fearlessly add, in the
words of old Flaccus,

    "Cum tot sustineas et tanta negotia solus,
    *       *       *       *       *
    *       *     in publica commoda peccem
    Si longo sermone morer tua tempora----"

Just at the moment that the words of old Flaccus were flowing forth
from the tongue of the obsequious Baronet, in a mellifluent Cork or
Kerry brogue, the butler entered the drawing-room, and announced, to the
great delight of Sir Patricius, that "dinner was served." The Duke,
drawing the arm of the Duchess beneath his own, for a moment stopped,
and said playfully--"See, my good Sir Patricius, how opportunely Mercury
pops in to clip the wings of Pegasus, and announce that the banquet of
the gods is ready; and now to our repast with all the appetite we may!"

Sir Patricius bowed, and handing the ladies Letitia and Lucy, followed
to the dinner-room, solemnly muttering to himself,

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

while stately he moved along with an increased stride and attitude of
dignity.




CHAPTER IV.

    Por cierto, Senör Gobernador * * * * que vuesa merced tiene mucha
    razon en quanto ha dicho: y que yo ofrezco en nombre de todos los
    insulanos desta insula, que han de servir á vuesa merced con toda
    puntualidad, amor y benevolencia, porque el suave modo gobenar que
    en estos principios vuesa merced ha dado, no les da lugar de
    hacer, ni de pensar cosa que en deservicio de vuesa merced
    redunde.

    DON QUIXOTE, tome IV.


    TRANSLATION.

    Doubtless, Sir Governor * * * * you have much reason in all you
    have been pleased to say: and let me promise you, in behalf of all
    the inhabitants of this island, that they shall serve your will
    and pleasure with all due diligence, love, and good-will; for the
    sweet and mild mode of government that hitherto in the beginning
    you have administered to them, causes them neither to do, nor even
    to think, aught that may redound disloyal to your government.

    DON QUIXOTE, vol. IV.


Before the Duke had arisen upon the ensuing morning the Duchess thus
addressed him, and pronounced, if we may so express it, the
curtain-lecture, with which the reader is here made acquainted:--

"My dear and much beloved Lord, you are now about to assume the
government of your native island, a land richly abundant in agricultural
and commercial resources, possessing a peasantry inured to toil, hardy,
industrious, and intelligent; keenly alive to and sensible of wrong and
injustice, yet still a passive and a patient people, who, like the Roman
ox, stand ready victims, stationed between the ploughshare and the
altar, alike prepared for the yoke or for sacrifice!--a soil luxuriant
for tillage or for pasture, abounding in quarries, mines, and minerals;
blest with a mild and temperate climate, and adorned with scenery
picturesque, romantic, and sublime; with mountains high as the lofty
spirit of the race who inhabit them, and with harbours (open as their
generous hearts) expanding their numerous emporiums to receive the
tribute of every coast and every clime.

"Remember, I pray thee, my good Lord, a passage which once we read,
and that I never can forget; we found it in the Lives of Plutarch, where
we are told the courtiers of Philip of Macedon essayed to mount and
master the noble animal Bucephalus, afterwards the war-horse of the
great and renowned Alexander. Courtier succeeding courtier attempted to
mount the back of Bucephalus, but in vain. They knew, indeed, how to
cringe, and fawn, and flatter in a despot's court, but they were wholly
ignorant and incompetent how to manage this nobly spirited war-horse;
their shadows, as they successively attempted to mount, startled the
steed, and they could make nothing of it. It was then that the son of
Ammon sprang forth, and said, 'Father, give him into my hands; I see the
noble bearing of the proud and generous animal, let me too, therefore,
have a trial!' The request was granted. When Alexander, leading him into
the shade where the steed neither startled by the shadow of his person
nor the flowing of his mantle, Alexander instantly sprung upon his back,
and galloped him several times past the presence of Philip, reining him
with full command, wheeling him round in full career, and then suddenly
halting to address his admiring king and father, and no less astonished
courtiers. At length, overcome with joy and admiration, Philip exclaimed
to Alexander, 'Go, go, my son, and seek to rule over other realms, for
Macedonia is too small for thee!' Yes, my dear Lord, I at once see you
forcibly feel the allusion. In the hands of ignorant, or stupid, or
bigoted governors, and their underlings, Ireland shall ever prove and
remain untractable, as Bucephalus was in the clumsy and untoward hands
of the courtiers of Macedon; but rule the inhabitants of this isle with
gentleness and moderation, with equal and impartial justice, alike
administered to all beneath a mild and conciliatory government, and then
mark how submissively they shall obey their ruler. In peace you shall
see drawn home the heavy harvest team; and on the day of battle our
navies shall ride triumphant, and our armies march victorious!"

The Duke smiled at the conclusion of this lengthened lecture; but he
was truly pleased withal at the judicious remarks, the sound sense, and
also with the enthusiastic feeling of his Duchess; and he said somewhat
gaily, "Bravo! well done, my Katherine. I long knew the extensive range
of your reading and information; but, 'fore Jupiter Ammon, I _certes_
did not know until the present what a famous politician thou hast
become. Thou assuredly hast pronounced a very notable and altisonant
lecture upon legislation, wherewithal from which I fully trust that I
shall ultimately derive much advantage. But yet under favour, lady mine,
my vice-regal _femme covert_, you will peradventure please to carry in
your noble recollection, that I am no sovereign prince or potentate, and
that the _roy le veult_ belongs not to me, but to my royal master; that
simply I am but a deputy, and therefore it is evident that I can have no
will of mine own, but, on the contrary, that every measure must emanate
from the throne. However, it is nevertheless true, that although I owe
much to my regarded sovereign, yet unhappily should this reflected light
of majesty prove to be but mere "disastrous twilight," I have still the
power to resign; and albeit I am not devoid certainly of ambition, yet
there exists not a man who is more attached to retirement than what I
confessedly am;--none, I am sure, more devoted to his country, friends,
family, and home!"

The intention of the Duke of Tyrconnel being fixed to pursue his journey
onward without unnecessary delay, to assume the reins of his vice-regal
government, His Grace and his amiable Duchess descended betimes to the
breakfast saloon. The Duke was in uncommon good spirits, spoke
sportively to his beloved Adelaide. The Ladies Letitia and Lucy soon
made their appearance, and Sir Patricius was not the last to take his
station at the breakfast-table, on which was duly placed every solace
for the regalement of the worthy Baronet, if indeed a salutary morning
walk amid the mountain-air could have rendered his appetite fastidious.

The Duke soon began in a jocular way to rally the Ladies Letitia and
Lucy, by observing, "I propose very soon, gentle ladies, so hearken to
me both, to dispose of you twain by promotion--in the temple of Hymen!
What say ye, ladies fair, to my proposition? Doubtless it will meet with
your joint approval, and most dutiful concurrence to my high and
puissant command!"

Lady Lucy replied, that she had no wish nor intention whatsoever to
alter her situation, feeling perfectly happy and contented as she was,
desirous of no change, and fully resolved, as far as was within her
control, that no cruel _empêchement_ should ever separate her from those
she so dearly regarded and loved.

Lady Letitia said in reply: "As for your _high men_, they are always
sure to have their own high ways in aught perchance they would do or
dare; and I needs must observe that I have no wish whatever to be
connected with such high cavaliers, having, alas! upon a former occasion
experienced much vexation and disappointment at the hands of one of
those said _high men_."

"Prithee, Letitia, explain in what manner," rejoined the Duke.

"You must know, then, that a proposal of marriage was made to me from
one of noble birth, and likewise of affluent fortune, while you, my
Lord, were absent in foreign lands. The gentleman was the Honourable Mr.
Gwillim Ap-Gwillim, of Caper Ap-Shenkin, in North Wales, who was not
slow in using every endeavour to win my love and affections; and, alas!
he succeeded but too well in the accomplishment of his wishes. But after
all, a long courtship and fair promises, this Cambrian proved himself to
be one of your '_perhaps_' knights-errant; and so, my good Lord, no more
of them for poor me! The man, prince, potentate, or peer, who deals in
the shuffling word '_perhaps_,' shall never possess my affection, nor
have my hand in the tie of holy wedlock. Never, I am resolved. No; for
ever I forswear and detest the word, as being the most offensive and
deceitful in the English tongue, past, present, or to come."

"Hold, hold, Letitia," said the Duke, "you are off in full gallop from
your story. Pray rein in thy noble indignation and imagination awhile,
and do let us have the conclusion of your most tragical hero, whom you
stigmatize with the title and appanage of '_perhaps_?'"

"I fairly promised my hand where before I had given my heart; that is to
say, provided you had so approved; and while matters were, as I
conceived, happily arriving, as I had fondly hoped, at the long wished
claracism (_eclaircissement_), who would have suspected or have dreamed
the result?

"'I am told, Sir,' addressing Mr. Gwillim Ap-Gwillim, of Caper
Ap-Shenkin, 'I am told, Sir,' said I, with proud tears in my eyes, 'that
you at present entertain a paramour?'

"'Well, Madam,' rejoined he, 'perhaps' (oh, the abominable word) 'I do;
and if so, it is surely not unusual or marvellous in an unmarried man.'

"'But then, Sir,' I replied, (somewhat enraged at his tawdry 'perhaps',)
'sure before we become man and wife, you will no doubt part with and
discharge this said paramour?'

"'Perhaps,' he rejoined, 'perhaps, (the third time, observe,) Madam, I
may.'

"'_Perhaps_, Sir,' I loudly re-echoed, my blood boiling, my breath
parting, my tongue gasping, and enraged to the very utmost, 'Perhaps,
Sir,' I said vehemently, 'know, my hand never shall be yours--never,
never!' Then with a strong impulse of collected coolness, for very often
what is the most opposite will occur, I distantly retired, with the
utmost indifference I dropt a low court courtesy, and never beheld him
more."

The Duke proposed, previous to departing, to accompany his noble
consort and family in a promenade on the pleasure grounds. Their Graces
led the way; and while apart from the attending group, the Duke
addressed the Duchess in a low voice--"I shall do every thing, depend
upon it, that is within my power, to render my vicegerency popular; not
from a love of popularity, but from the impulse of administering even
and equal justice to all His Majesty's subjects, which is a debt I shall
not fail to discharge, so far as the responsibility of my station
admits, and my duty to the king allows. The salary which I may receive
during my administration shall, to the uttermost farthing, be expended
among the generous people, from whose purses I am to receive it; I shall
assist the poor, and the great I will entertain. Thus when the
termination of my government arrives, I trust that my departure from the
viceregency shall not be mistaken for that of a collector of taxes, who
retires _sub umbra_, having embezzled the public coffers, and who
departs _ex-officio_, attended, justly I admit, with "curses, not loud
but deep!" Oh no, my dearest love, by no earthly possibility shall any
one mistake me for a Jamaica planter, a bullock feeder, or a Jew broker!
Never; my private fortune shall be expended in addition to the princely
income which I receive from the nation; and I am resolved that in every
way it shall be my study, as it will be my pleasure, to prove indeed the
true and appropriate representative of a noble and generous king!"

To this expressive burst of loyal and ardent feeling, the Duchess fully
accorded her hearty assent. While the noble pair remained thus employed
in discussing the high and grave affairs of state, the ladies Letitia
and Lucy, attended by Sir Patricius Placebo and Captain Heaviside, were
employed in admiring the surrounding scenery.

"What a romantic delightful prospect here presents itself to the
spectator," observed Sir Patricius Placebo to Lady Letitia, who stood
next him.

"Oh yes," replied her Ladyship, "it is truly a noble tract of verdant
valley and lofty mountain, scenery, sea, and river; the goats on the
rock, the sheep on the hill, and the cows in the vale; indeed the Duke
positively asserts that the surrounding scene displays perhaps the most
beautiful cow-dell (_coup d'oeil_) in the whole kingdom."

The promenaders returned from their ramble, and were stationed on the
terrace when the Duke's travelling coach and six drove up to the
embattled porch of the castle. The Duke, addressing himself to Sir
Patricius, pleasantly and playfully said: "Sir knight we do hereby, by
the powers in us vested, constitute, nominate, and appoint, with all the
briefness and celerity the occasion demands, you, Sir Patricius Placebo,
M. D. Baronet, _eques non male notus_, our _locum tenens_, and Lord
Constable of this our good castle of Tyrconnel during our absence
herefrom; and thou, Sir Patricius Placebo, art bound, in due accordance
with right, ancient, and laudable usage, to dispense all manner of
ancient hospitality, as if we ourself were in person present; and within
a few given days to escort our beloved partner and family to His
Majesty's castle of Dublin; all which fail not to do, under the pain and
penalty of our heavy displeasure."

The Duke fondly and affectionately embracing his Duchess, his beloved
Adelaide, and his sisters, and cordially shaking hands with his guests,
entered his travelling carriage, which set off, the horses travelling in
a brisk pace, for Dublin, to assume the chief government of the island.
The ladies followed the Duchess, who retired into the castle to regret
even the temporary absence of her lord.

Meanwhile Sir Patricius proposed to Captain Heaviside an excursion on
horseback, to pass away the time _jusquè a dinèr_. After a short
interval Sir Patricius having doffed his grave professional peruke; and
having assumed his hunting wig, mounted his gallant steed, and set out
with the Captain in a ramble through the country. While thus they were
employed in exploring the surrounding scenery, Captain Heaviside,
addressing Sir Patricius, said, "Pray, my good Sir, did I ever repeat to
you my _chronicle_?"

"Oh no, never, Captain, upon my veracity; but in sooth I should be quite
delighted to hear it, so pray let us have it by all manner and means."

"I call it," continued Captain Heaviside, _my_ chronicle, but I must
say, really and truly, that it was never written by me;--positively not
mine, but written indeed by a particular friend."

"Come, come, bold Captain, that is very well, and likewise most sagely
and discreetly expressed; very good indeed--an excellent come off, _cum
grano salis_, hem! It is, however, to be sure, vastly convenient upon
all such occasions to enlist a friend into the service who shall enact
you the part of a poetical godfather, and act too as pioneer: a most
meritorious gentleman truly, who is disposed with such magnanimous
generosity to place all our written sins and verses upon his own
muster-roll. Vastly, egad vastly convenient, I needs must observe,
master Heaviside, hah, hah, hah, _sed, litera scripta manet!_ There is
no getting over that, my gallant young Captain, by my halidam!"

"My good Sir Patricius accredit me, it was really written by my very
excellent friend, Captain Drinkwater, a dashing dragoon."

"I can then flatly tell you, Captain, that it will never do--I know it
will never do; for as friend Horace sings,

    'Nulla placere diu nec vivere carmina possunt
    Quæ scribuntur aquæ potoribus.'

I hate and detest your _aquæ potoribus_, all your drink-waters, and
your water-drinkers, they are beyond all compare the very worst
description of enemies that our profession has to contend with: so no
more of this; give me your drinkers of _aqua vitæ_, and honest
stout-hearted topers of genuine Drogheda usque-baugh; these are the
generous souls whose quaffing I admire, and whose fees I dearly prize.
But come, my brave Captain, notwithstanding we must positively have your
_chronicle_."

"Well, Sir Patricius, since it must be so, here it is.


    CAPTAIN HEAVISIDE'S CHRONICLE,

    BEING AN EXCELLENT NEW ANACREONTIC, AND WRITTEN BY
    CAPTAIN DRINKWATER OF THE HORSE-GRENADIERS.

    Julia first met me with bright sparkling eye;
    Next Sally so sober, yet so very sly,
    Margery, matchless at grin and grimace;
    Then Susan so simple, with innocent face.
    Betty was breathless when told of a fray,
    And Judy in sooth would have her own way:
    Of Nelly 'tis needless ought for to tell,
    On ev'ry occasion she bore off the belle.

    There was rattling, laughing, roaring young Kate,
    Who many did think was perturbed in her pate:
    Of Kathlane so cunning, and Mollys a score,
    Och, I could sing till I tired you sore.
    Let this little sample the truth only tell,
    That, ah! I have lov'd too long and too well!"

"_Olet lucernam_, good master Heaviside! methinks it smells somewhat
rather too strong of the lamp. Nay, nay, come noble Captain, I say,
cheer up man! never mind, my brave boy, for in faith I like your
chronicle, master Heaviside, passing well; and the very first open day,
to speak the _vox parliamentaria_, that is to express, that the first
day that the Duke shall dine abroad----hah, hah, which, 'fore Jupiter,
egad he does this very day--aye, good--very good,

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

this very day, by my halidam, we shall have it! By the mass he who
gainsays it wets not his lips with a cup of hermitage! Nay more, down
goes my gauntlet; Captain--there is my hand for you! A fig, I say, for
your black rods, your white rods, and your green rods! I would fain
flagellate them all with their own proper _insignia_ of office; aye,
marry, I say, a plague upon them all, master Heaviside! I am a man
somewhat gifted with authority, as you are, Captain, fully aware, being
no less than grand Seneschal of yonder ancient castle; and by the mass,
indubitably, with due and meet discretion, we shall have _viva voce_
this very day your much to be lauded Anacreontic, and that too without a
single repugnant '_perhaps_,' against which vague, dubious, and most
distrustful adverb, that sage and circumspect Lady Letitia doth so
continently and cautiously enter her solemn protest. But my good Sir,
time and place--place and time? methinks as I don't toss off drams in a
morning, that songs sound sweeter heard in the evening. Oh, ever time
and place are to be taken into account, my good Captain, for

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

as the venerable Archimedes enforces it--hem; and I shall----But come,
Captain, for once I will give a gratuitous prescription--take my
nostrum--sing, or hear it sang, Captain Harry Heaviside's new Chronicle,
which be sure to wash down with the potation of two honest quarts of old
bottled Chateau-Margut, or good Burgundy, for I am not squeamish, which
shall answer just quite as well;--swallow the dose, charily, charily,
but without shaking the bottle!"

The equestrians soon approached the castle on their return to dinner,
and the first bell was now heard pealing over battlement and tower, duly
giving warning note; hence from a smart trot they hastened to a brisk
gallop.

"Ahem," said Sir Patricius, "see, noble Captain, how strong and lustily
the smoke mounts up from the kitchen chimney, _bonum signum, bonum
signum_, by Bacchus and Ceres a most propitious omen! Ahem, spur on, my
gallant chevalier!"

The two worthies now reached the lordly castle; and entering the
embattled porch, Captain Heaviside observed in a whisper to Sir
Patricius: "A d----d bore to be sure it is, all this dressing for
dinner, my good Sir Patricius. But no matter, it is some consolation,
however, that we shall have an excellent feed; and I am resolved to do
it justice, exercise and the mountain air having sharpened a natural
good appetite."

"But," rejoined Sir Patricius, "hark, again this accursed bell, how it
frights the castle from its propriety.

    'Ring out the alarum-bell, blow winds come, crack,
     At least we'll die with harness on our back.'

But never mind, we shall be ready before the bell rings a third time."

The man of physic and the man of war having thus spoken, they wended
their way to their respective toilettes, which were quickly despatched.
Here then we leave them to pay their attentions to the Duchess and the
ladies, and enjoy all the good cheer at the ducal _salle à manger_.
Meanwhile, in our next chapter, we shall return to the Duke, and escort
His Grace to the vice-regal abode at Dublin castle.




CHAPTER V.

    ----Al llegar á las puertas de la villa que era cercada, salio
    regimiento del pueblo á recebirle, tocáron las campanas, y todos
    los vecinos diéron muestras de general alegria, y con mucha pompa
    le lleváron á la iglesia mayor á dar gracias a Dios, y luego con
    algunas ceremonias le entregaron las llaves del pueblo, y le
    admitiéron por Gobernador de la insula.

    DON QUIXOTE, tome IV. ch. 45.

    TRANSLATION.

    When he approached the town gates (for it was walled) the officers
    came out to welcome him, the bells rang, and all the inhabitants
    made show of a general gladness; and they carried him in great
    pomp to the high church, to give God thanks; and shortly after
    some ceremonies they delivered him the keys, and admitted him as
    Governor of the island.

    DON QUIXOTE, book IV. ch. 45.


The Duke of Tyrconnel took his departure, as was observed in the last
chapter, at an early hour; the roads were in excellent order for
travelling, the morning appeared settled and serene, and an enlivening
sun shone forth propitiously on his journey.

The vice-regal carriage had just reached the town of Ballyshannon, when
one of the fine animals (a leader) which drew the vehicle lost a fore
shoe, which caused the cavalcade to stop. This interruption to the
journey afforded an opportunity to the Duke, of which he availed
himself, of visiting the venerable ruins of Ashrow Abbey, which were at
that point of time noble and imposing even in decay. The beautifully
pointed gothic arches, and the gilded ceilings in the vaults of the
cloisters, called forth and attracted the attention and admiration of
His Grace. When the Duke had returned to his inn from the inspection of
these venerable monastic remains, a large party of horsemen were
discerned trotting onward at a round and rapid pace. The Duke was
stationed in a small gallery, or balcony, surmounting the door of the
inn, when a tumultuous congratulatory roar from the equestrians, and
addressed to His Grace, resounded on all sides, and the well-known Irish
welcome of "_Cead millia failtha_," (that is "a hundred thousand hearty
welcomes,") saluted the ducal ear. His Grace took off his hat, which he
most gracefully waved, and graciously bowed. He then addressed them, and
was pleased to say, "My good friends, I feel truly grateful for this
warm burst of loyalty; but I request to ask whither, and in such rapid
haste, ye are all proceeding?

    'Go ye in peace, or go ye in war?'

There is surely no fair now going on in these parts of the country;
there is no wake, no saint's patron-day recorded in the calendar; there
is no racing, no hurling-match, no rural sport that I know of; and
therefore I feel at a loss how to account for thus assembling in
numbers, and I must needs doubt whether the motive be justifiable."

The troop of peasants, to the number of twelve or fifteen persons, were
mounted on horseback; most of the horses carried double, in accordance
to an old strange Irish usage, and which custom prevails in many parts
of Ireland even at the point of time in which we now address our
readers. The peasants replied, in respondence to the queries of the
Duke, to this effect: "So may it please your Lordship's noble Reverence,
we are men of the mountains, just going up for a bit to town, to procure
a little law," [i. e. being duly interpreted, means _litigation_.]

"Then," rejoined the Duke, "if such be your intention, my serious and
friendly advice to you all, my good men of the mountains, is simply
this, that you do all at the present immediately return back to your
respective districts, and peaceably retire to your native hills and
homes; avoid law, strife, and litigation; return to the tranquil heights
of the lofty Tyraugh, and there enjoy, undisturbed by the factious or
the turbulent, that peace and tranquillity which is shed around your
happy cottages, beyond the turmoil of the world, and there dwell, and
likewise cultivate the Christian virtues of peace and brotherly love.
Forget and forgive the past; bear and forbear! And if I wore the
sacerdotal garb, I could not in so few words, perhaps, advert more to
the present purpose which has, be it what it may, conjured up some bad
blood, as I have strong reasons to apprehend. This line of conduct, my
countrymen, you must be sensible, it is your bounden duty to pursue;
attend to your farms, cherish your families, and look to yourselves;
obey your magistrates, and attend to your religious duties; and last,
though not least, honour and reverence your noble king. I feel it
incumbent on me to tell you such ought to be your line of conduct, and
to this effect, too, will all your Clergy to a man pronounce to you,
whether parson, priest, or prelate!"

This speech allayed the threatened storm; and as if the wind had
changed to a different point, gently impelling a vessel in a contrary
course, thus suddenly were the litigious intentions of the "men of the
mountains" changed. They thanked his Lordship's "glorious Honour for his
kind condescension, and solemnly protested that they would forego _the
bit of law_ which they had intended, and willingly abide by his
Lordship's most worshipful advice." Reining round their steeds, they
proceeded upon their return home in a trot more rapid even than that in
which they had approached; and giving three loud distinct cheers of
"_Cead millia failtha_," were soon out of sight.

The book of wisdom saith "a soft answer turneth away wrath;" and it is
no less true, that a generous act, or even a kind expression, makes an
indelible impression upon the grateful heart of an Irishman!

While the Duke was engaged in the foregoing expostulation with "the men
of the mountains," the farrier, as he called himself, was meantime
actively employed, in which his tongue was as prompt as his hand was
ready, in performing, as he conceived it, the proud destiny of replacing
the fore shoe on the noble leader, in lieu of that which had been lost;
and thus from his anvil he addressed the Duke's valet: "Och then, plaze
your honour, master Brushwell, may be it isn't I who understands, any
how, in a jiffy to whip on a shoe upon any poor beast in the four
bordering counties; and a great sin and shame in me it would be if I
didn't exart myself for one of the true ould Irish stock? In troth in a
jiffy I will knock off the job, and by J---- it shall be properly well
done! for oh, _naboclish_, sure enough may be Tom Hob isn't the boy,
after all, for quickly knocking off a job for a parson he loves; and in
troth he may say with the ould ballad--

    'Tom's heart, like his iron, is hissingly hot,
    Though his iron should cool, his heart it shall not!'"

In these remote days the peaceful methods of life, the arts of
agriculture and husbandry, were but imperfectly known; and the practice
of farriery was rudely and ignorantly performed; then veterinary
professors did not exist, [the foregoing incident of the lost horse-shoe
has led to this short digression,] and farriery was clumsily practised,
save, perchance in the forge of some farrier of heavy dragoons. The arts
of war, meanwhile, were but too successfully carried on, while the happy
arts of peace slumbered in the shade, and neglected agriculture sunk
depressed beneath the warlike tone and temper of the times. The sickle
and the ploughshare, the attributes and implements of husbandry, were
destined to be neglected, else otherwise to be transmuted into the spear
and falchion of war.

But we resume our narrative.--The first day and night of the Duke's
departure he dined and slept at the hospitable abode of Castle-Caldwell,
the noble and magnificent mansion of the Baronet of the same name, which
delightful residence derived its name from the owner. The promontories
that raised their peninsular summits above and around the beautiful and
expanded lake of Lough Erne, were all brilliantly illuminated by
bonfires made by the peasantry. The beacon-flame also blazed from the
crowned summit of every surrounding hill and mountain. These bright
testimonies of gladness burst forth to hail the Duke's welcome arrival.
In furtherance of which the furze, fern, heath, and tall sword-grass, on
hill and rock, were all set into one universal conflagration, the
brilliant coruscations of which flashed, flamed, and undulated upon the
expanded waters of Lough Erne; while bonfires were seen to burn and
blaze upon the cloud-crested heights of the Tyraugh mountains.

Meanwhile, in sympathy with the scene, the great promontory of
Ross-a-Goul brightly bore the beacon blaze upon his lofty brow, which
flamed forth and flashed volcano-like above the adjacent woods and
groves, illuminating every islet, rock, and indented shore, and
reflecting its ruddy light in brilliance upon the dark waves of
Ross-Moor, which seemed emulous to flash back their radiance on
Ross-Goul.

The town of Churchill manifested similar demonstrations of joy and
gratulation upon the arrival of the popular viceroy. It is time,
however, to return to the hospitable board of the worthy host, who, with
his noble and distinguished guests, sat down to a magnificent dinner at
the good, early, rational, but now antiquated hour of four o'clock,
which was the healthy custom in these times remote. Among many
surrounding nobles and gentry present at this splendid banquet, we must
not pass by unobserved two notable characters who were seated at the
Baronet's table: the one was the Lord Viscount Glandarah, and the other
was the Rev. Doctor Dismal Drew, L.L.D., a quondam Fellow of Trinity
College, Dublin,[16] and who had been collated to the valuable living of
----, the advowson of which was in the gift of the University of Dublin.
These two worthies formed a remarkable and striking contrast to each
other.

    [16] "Anno 1590.--The Monastery of All-Hallows was granted by the
    citizens for the site of an university.

    "----1591.--Trinity College founded by Queen Elizabeth. Opened
    1593. Received a new charter and statutes 1637."--_Annals of the
    City of Dublin._

Lord Glandarah, imitating the profitable example of the wise Ulysses,
who

    ----"Multorum providus urbes
    Et mores, hominum inspexit,"

had visited foreign countries and courts, where he had resided during a
very long period, even from his early youth. It was whispered, and it
was also believed, that he was at heart _un bon Catholiquè_. However,
whether the assertion was true or false, certain it is that his Lordship
took his seat in the Irish House of Peers; so that his case was
completely _in foro conscientiæ_, and with which nobody had any right to
intermeddle, it being a matter between him and a higher power than any
court upon earth, temporal or spiritual.

His Lordship was an accomplished and polished nobleman; he had seen,
and with no unobserving eye, the different nations and courts of Europe;
had examined their laws, their governments, and establishments; he had
been so long resident upon the continent, (even from his earliest
years,) that from his foreign intonation of voice, and speaking, as he
did, broken English, he might readily have passed for a German or a
Frenchman. Lord Glandarah was personally known by the Duke of Tyrconnel,
who, upon this interview, heartily shook hands; and the former warmly
congratulated the latter upon his promotion to the viceroyship of
Ireland: "Gad save my soul, _mon très-excellent_ Duke, I am _absolumènt_
delighted; _je suis ravis entirement à vous revoir_. I am _tout_
delighted! _Jamais, jamais si bien heureux! Un verre de vin: à votre
tres bonne santé, et aussi la de votre tres amiable et accomplié Madame
la Duchesse. Nous aurons une petit Cour de Versailes à la Chateau de
Dublin. Sans doute et comme certainement nous verrons! Tres joli, tres
joli! Sir Jacques Colville, j'ai l'honneur de saluër votre santé._"

Lord Glandarah was attired in a court dress of green Genoa velvet,
richly embroidered with gold; and the old aristocratic peer was so
orthodox that even his hunting wig, when he rode on horseback, had _une
petite bourse_ attached to it, and the peruke was surmounted by a small
cocked hat, trimmed with broad gold lace, with an appendant feather; and
these he considered as indispensable appanages of _un gentilhomme comme
il faut_! or, as Horace has expressed it, "_Homo factus ad unguem_"--a
finished gentleman, even to the paring of his nail! Compared with Doctor
Dismal Drew, he was "Hyperion to a satyr." Doctor Drew was in stature
six feet by two, without diminution or subtraction, but awfully

     "Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and height."

The Doctor's head was of a portentous size, which induced his
cotemporaries, while a student in college, to bestow on him the epithet
or sobriquet of "the bull-headed (βοῦς κέφαλος) student;" and
most certain it is, that the exterior exceeded in dimensions every other
head within the precincts of that learned corporation. He was extremely
near-sighted, and always wore either goggles or spectacles made of green
glass, which, as our readers may fairly suspect, did not by any means
add to his personal appearance or attraction, whatever they might have
abducted. He was however, be the truth spoken, an excellent scholar,
philosopher, and moreover this same "learned Theban" was a mathematician
to boot. His manners were unpolished--nay, repulsive. His gait in the
street or drawing-room was so strange and inhuman-like, that it was only
ideally to be compared to the floundering motion of a wounded walrus
standing on its hind legs, then dragging its heavy weight along. At
table the movement of his arms was so exceedingly annoying to his
neighbours that it invariably caused them to keep a most circumspect and
respectful distance. His voice, when he spoke, which was only when he
wanted to be helped to some piquant viand, was harsh and stentorian, and
might not unaptly be compared to the discordant cadence of a cracked
bassoon. He was learned--he abounded in anecdote; and if he chose to be
at the trouble, he could be witty. But no; during dinner, and even when
the cloth was removed, solemn as the grave he sat doggedly pinioned to
his chair, silently sipping drop by drop his Burgundy. He seemed to be
apprehensive that the time he would occupy in conversation would
interfere with the time allotted for the act of deglutition; therefore
he sat taciturn, as if the use of his tongue was inevitably and
irretrievably to destroy the powers of his palate!

Doctor Drew was by no means deficient in dry and sarcastic humour; and
many anecdotes may be still found savoury in the college-courts and
dinner-hall of this quondam queer-fellow of old _alma mater_; however we
will trespass on the reader's attention only with one anecdote:--

Doctor Dismal Drew passing one morning through the college courts, from
the library to his chambers, happened to meet a young student who had
been only a few days matriculated, and such are, in popular parlance in
the university, called _jibs_; the young student had the ill-fortune to
pass this learned Leviathan, without the usual salutation of doffing his
four-cornered cap to his mighty superior:--"Halloo," roared the Doctor,
"come back; hark ye, I say, young master, pray how long, young
gentleman, allow me to ask, have you worn the academic gown?"

"Just eight days, may it so please your Reverence."

"Ay, ay; in sooth, young master, I thought as much, for we all know that
puppies cannot make use of their eyes until they are nine days old!"

When Doctor Dismal Drew had with-drawn from the dinner-room, Lord
Glandarah addressed the Duke of Tyrconnel in an under tone: "Gad save
me, my Lord Duke, _mais cette est un homme austere, outre, et tres
singulier; et, par tout, un bête horriblè_."

"Adonis, you recollect, my Lord, was killed by a _boar_!"

"Excellent, O Duke! and I too should be killed by--the Doctor's
company!--_non, pardonnez moi_ presence, I should say; he be no company!
_en veritè_ two entire days would despatch me. He is _assuremènt
Polyphemus le second, mais avec cette dissemblance par tout que le
monstre il eut un oeil bel excellènt, pendant que, le Docteur ave sans
doubtè deux diaboleùx_ bad eyes!"

"Oh, unquestionably, my Lord! but then he has an intellectual one; and
we must give due credit to Sir James Caldwell for the attention and
kindness which he dispenses to his quondam tutor. It is kind,
considerate, grateful, and honourable, to his feelings."

Sir James Caldwell, for whom the Duke of Tyrconnel entertained a great
regard and affection, from long acquaintance and intercourse, took an
opportunity, previous to the departure of His Grace, of making a strong
and impressive request that the Duke would be pleased to appoint his
worthy and learned friend the Doctor to be one of His Grace's domestic
chaplains.

"Why really, my kind and worthy friend, your request appears to me to
be a matter of greater difficulty than you, Sir James, seem to be aware
of, biassed, no doubt, by your kindness and partiality for the Doctor;
however you must needs acknowledge that there is somewhat _outré_ and
repulsive in the _tout ensemble_ of this extraordinary man; his general
appearance, his manners, his dress, and address, and those unindurable
appendices of green goggles, and his _je ne scai quoi_ impression, which
is better seen than described. However, if it be possible I shall
willingly assent to your request, provided that you, on the part of the
learned Doctor, accede to my capitulations, which I require and demand.
First, I insist upon the total abandonment of those everlasting green
goggles, in which I verily believe he sleeps withal. Secondly, I
resolve, as a _sine qua non_, that the learned Doctor, upon his arrival
in the metropolis, shall employ either a drill sergeant or a _maitre de
danse_, to mollify his movements of legs and arms! You stare in
astonishment, my good Sir James, but marry, I do not mean, in sooth,
that your grave Doctor and L.L.D. should slowly glide down the sober
minuet, or the more solemn paven, with formal features and extended
cassock, _chausse_ the cotillion, or trot down the merry _contredanse_;
no, _mehercule_, by no means, but this exercise I would fain prescribe
merely in order to give a gentlemanly ease and deportment of person. And
thirdly, I must require that the Doctor should purchase a new gown and
cassock; these habiliments having become threadbare in the service of
old Alma. Fourthly, that the Doctor shall, _sine mora_, have constructed
a neat orthodox wig, curled and powdered _a la Louis Quatorze_, &c. &c."

All these sage and precise preliminaries being agreed, ratified, and
concluded upon, by the high contracting parties, the Duke upon the
following morning took a friendly leave, and set off to pursue his
journey to Dublin. He kindly offered the Lord Glandarah a seat in his
carriage, who was likewise destined for Dublin; and which offer was most
thankfully accepted by the noble peer. Having duly paid their respective
devoirs to their hospitable host they departed, much gratified by their
reception at the noble and social mansion of Castle-Caldwell.

The Duke and his noble _compagnon de voyage_ travelled onward without
any accident or occurrence worth narrating, and arrived that day to
dinner at Tarah-Castle, the noble residence of the Lord Tarah. But at
the present day no vestige of this once celebrated castle remains, where
once

    "To chiefs and ladies bright
    The harp of Tarah swelled!"

Upon this distinguished day the hospitable board was loaded with every
luxury; generous Burgundy and enlivening Champaign flowed around in
bumpers; while it seemed a mooted matter of opinion which was most to be
admired, the generous courtesy and hospitality of the noble proprietor
of the castle, the excellence of his viands and wines, or the "soul of
music" that breathed around!

Moments of convivial joy and harmony, however, soon pass by, and are
forgotten likewise in the advance of time.

The following morning, soon after breakfast was concluded, the Duke of
Tyrconnel bade an affectionate adieu to the Lord of Tarah, and
accompanied by Lord Glandarah, set off in his travelling carriage for
the castle of Dublin. The journey was safely proceeded on to
Dunshauglin, where the Duke's state carriages and horses were in
attendance to convey him to Dublin, accompanied by a squadron of horse.

As he approached the city of Dublin, at the barrier of Barrack-street
the horses were taken from the carriage by the populace, and His Grace
was drawn in triumph to the capital; all the cathedral and church bells
ringing forth a merry peal. His Grace was sworn into his high office,
the patent having been read, before the privy council; at the same
moment three rockets in succession ascended from Birmingham Tower, which
were signals of His Grace having been sworn into his high official
station; and were duly responded to by the salute-battery in His
Majesty's royal chase, or park; and the salute was again returned by the
battery stationed on the south-wall of the Liffey. At night a general
and splendid illumination succeeded, which concluded the rejoicings of
this most memorable day.




CHAPTER VI.

    ----The nature of our people,
    Our city's institutions, and the terms
    Of common justice, y'are as pregnant in
    As art and practice hath enriched any
    That we remember. There is our commission!

    MEASURE FOR MEASURE.


Fully resolved justly and conscientiously to discharge with unremitting
and unceasing attention the responsible duties of his high office, the
Duke now commenced his vice-regal career. He arose at an early hour, and
whatever public business was to be transacted, he constantly despatched
before the hour of breakfast. He was polite, courteous, and accessible
to all; his was the _suaviter in modo_, but it was also accompanied with
the _fortiter in re_.

The first day for holding a vice-regal levee, as specified by public
notice from the Chamberlain's office, having arrived, it commenced
exactly at one o'clock, and was most numerously attended. Among the vast
assemblage were noticed the Lord Mayor, the Lord High Chancellor Sir
Alexander Fitton Lord Baron of Gausworth; the judges and great officers
of state; a long train of gentry, numerous members of the lower and
upper houses of parliament attended; many a grave and reverend prelate,
and many a baron bold--"_Post alios_; _fortemque Gyan_, _fortemque
Cloanthum_," &c.

The company appeared arrayed in full and appropriate court costume.
There were likewise present the different staff officers, besides those
of the garrison; and a large body of ecclesiastics, Protestant and
Catholic, attended. The ceremonies of the day were throughout conducted
with great decorum and propriety.

Among the notable personages that were this day presented to the Duke,
we must not omit to notice the Honourable Mr. Berenger, M. P. for the
County of----, of an ancient and ennobled family, whose ancestor came
to Ireland in the time of the second Henry. He wore a very large black
curled peruke, which flowed like a lion's mane adown his shoulders; his
coat and small-clothes were of light blue velvet, richly embroidered; a
waistcoat richly worked, and adorned with foliations formed of various
precious stones. He wore, too, a superb diamond-hilted sword; diamond
shoe and knee buckles; silk stockings, with gold embroidered clokes; and
the heels of his shoes were of red Morocco leather. He was indeed,
beyond all dispute, the unparalleled dandy of his day! Mr. Berenger had
been in his youth a very handsome man; but his face now was deadly pale;
and his eyes, which had been once brilliant as the diamonds which
adorned him, reposed, dim and shorn of their beams, within their hollow
and shrivelled sockets. Time, too, had left his stern impress in the
indented furrows of the cheek and the care-scored wrinkles of his brow:
he looked the languid voluptuary, while surfeit and satiety seemed to
seal up his lips. His figure, notwithstanding, was yet even still fine
and commanding. His countenance, however, spoke more plainly of the
preterpluperfect than either of the present or future tense. His eyes
reposed on the carpet or upon vacancy; they had in them "no speculation,
that they did glare withal." When attending the gay and dissipated court
of the second Charles he had often revelled with Rochester, and jested
with Killigrew and, moreover, had the high distinction paid him of
being called "a very finished gentleman indeed" by the witty monarch,
"whose word no man relied on!"

The eccentric Mr. Berenger had severally proposed at three different
times a matrimonial alliance with Lady Lucy, the Duke's youngest sister,
who politely, but positively refused him; and upon some overtures to
renew his solicitations, Lady Lucy observed, that as she had so long
delayed to marry for love, she was now resolved not to marry in the
capacity of a nurse-tender! This was so home an _argumentum ad
superbiam_ a cut and thrust at the pride of the Honourable Member, that
he now seemed to have no intention of becoming a Benedict. Lady Letitia
found great fault with her sister, complained of her cruelty, and
sturdily maintained "that the Honourable M. P. having shewn such a
confirmed constancy, ought not to have met with this sharp repulse; for
it was evident and manifest that Mr. Berenger did not indeed belong to
the shabby class of '_perhaps_' suitors.

But it is now time that we should return from this digression. Sir John
Caldwell was at the levee, and his _protegè_, our quondam acquaintance
Doctor Dismal Drew, a newly-appointed chaplain, in a gown and cassock
spick and span, who having fully acceded to the rules and stipulations
of address, costume, and conduct, appeared indeed to have been moulded
into quite a different personage. However his strange absence of mind
and defect of judgment fully remained unaltered, as was fully
exemplified on the ensuing Sunday, when he preached a sermon at the
castle chapel before the Duke and his vice-regal suite. The text was
chosen in bad tact, however, and still worse policy: it was selected
from the xxvth chapter of Proverbs, 5th verse: "Take away the wicked
from before the king, and his throne shall be established in
righteousness!" This was unquestionably an uncalled for attack upon the
ministry, upon the noble viceroy, and on his patron; and his name was
struck out of the list of chaplains, never to be again restored. So much
for Doctor Drew! whose head seemed to be obtuse albeit--certainly,
however, it was never destined to be encircled with that ornament with
which Sancho crowned the head of his favourite Dapple.

Early on the succeeding day her Grace the Duchess of Tyrconnel, the
lovely Lady Adelaide, Ladies Letitia and Lucy, escorted by the polite
and facetious Sir Patricius Placebo, arrived safely at Dublin Castle,
and were most warmly and affectionately received by the Duke and
viceroy.

The vice-regal party sat down to dinner at their usual and not
irrational hour of four o'clock, which, in these our modern days of
dissipation and late hours, would be considered as an hour for dinner
quite gothic and _à la Bourgeois_; for in these our polished days of
finished taste and refinement, late hours seem to be the very _acme_ of
fashion; late dinners necessarily being succeeded by late suppers, and,
_par consèquence_, afternoon breakfasts, in consequatory succession,
bringing up the rere of fashionable high-life to the great practice and
benefit of the College of Physicians.

The conversation after dinner was lively and agreeable. The Duchess
described their journey, and gave many traits of the good feeling and
humour of the lower classes, as witnessed in their journey from
Tyrconnel Castle. When the ladies had retired, Lord Glandarah, who was
of the party, speaking of the eccentric Mr. Berenger, who had been at
the levee on the preceding day, turning to Sir Patricius, inquired of
him if he knew that eccentric personage? and the following reply, aided
by the effects of brisk Champaign, thus effervesced and flowed from his
lips: "Oh, yes, my Lord, I have before these days met with Count
Berenger, as he was called; I have too heard him converse with the
Windsor beauties, whose similitudes Sir Peter Lely, of pictorial fame,

    ----'On animated canvass stole
    Their sleepy eye that speaks the melting soul.'

Ay, my Lord, and often have I met him at the carousals of old King
Carolus, now defunct, but of blessed memory! He is _certes_ the
completely finished gentleman. He was once gay, and airy, and agreeable;
but now in sooth I must say that he looks as sombre and demure as a
solemn gentleman of the long robe extending his silken train, and
dancing down a paven![17] In the sublime art of eating he is not a
professor, but an artist, only munches the sunny side of a peach or a
nectarine; when he wishes to be helped to fowl or chicken, he is always
sure to bespeak the liver wing; knows all the nice cuts in a haunch of
venison, and he can carve you twenty nice _morceaux_ from the head of a
cod-fish; he knows too how turtle should be cooked, and how duly to
appreciate callipash and callipe; a glass of liqueur or genuine Coniac
he knows as well as I do to be a safe, salutary, and no unpleasant
condiment to his fish. In a word, his is the true art of _sçavoir
vivre_; and 'fore Jove or great Apollo, if this were a writing or a
printing age, I should incontinently like and admire to have 'Culinary
Lucubrations, or the whole divine Art of Cookery,' from the pen of the
honourable and polished Mr. Berenger! But it was a sad omission of mine,
my Lord, not to include among his various accomplishments, that he is an
excellent judge of wines, and an excellent taster too, to boot; for he
would never mistake Port wine for Tokay, Chambertin for Chateau-Margut,
nor Vin de Grave for Hock! I think there is no going beyond these. Here,
then, I sum up the climax of his character, 'not to know him argues
one's self unknown!'--My Lord Glandarah, your Lordship's very good
health."

    [17] The _paven_ (from _pavo_, a peacock) is a grave, majestic
    dance. The method of dancing it was anciently by gentlemen dressed
    with a cap and sword; by those of the long robe in their gowns; by
    the princes in their mantles; and by ladies in gowns with long
    trains, the motion whereof in the dance resembled that of a
    _peacock's tail_. This dance is supposed to have been invented by
    the Spaniards, and its figure is given, with the characters for
    the steps, in the _Orchesographia_ of Thoinet Arbeau.--See Note to
    "_The Mad Lover_." Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, vol. IV. p. 186.

Here the noble Duke, concluding from the foregoing symptoms that the
Doctor had not omitted taking his _quantum sufficit_ of Burgundy,
proposed another flask to Lord Glandarah, or some coffee with the
ladies. The ladies had the preference given them; and the Duke retiring
to the drawing-room, was followed by his guests.

"I have," whispered Sir Patricius to Lord Glandarah, "observed, in
divers companies and upon several occasions, that His Grace in these
matters always leaves the discussion to the _liberum arbitrium_ of his
guests."

"And," replied the Peer, "Gad save my soul, I laud his discreet
resolution!"

The Duchess appointed her first drawing-room for the succeeding
evening. It may not be amiss here to acquaint the reader, that at the
period of which we now write, court dresses were universally worn by
both sexes at evening routes and balls: the gentlemen appeared in full
court costume, with bags, swords, and buckles; and the ladies with
monstrous bell-hoops, and portentous stomachers of an ell in longitude!
and withal incased in the cumbrous accoutrement of a heavy stiffened
silk mantua; while their false and elevated tetes reminded one of Pelion
piled up on Ossa.

The above remarks will be sufficient to account for the short notice
given for the intended drawing-room. We would also observe upon the
hours at which the worthy folks of these days assembled at their evening
parties. At this period of time the fashionable hour of paying visits
was not, as it is now, in the morning, or rather mid-day, when every
body is abroad, but it was in the evening, when every one almost was at
home; and the visiting hour commenced at so early an hour as seven
o'clock. In the autumnal and winter months the saloons and
drawings-rooms of the noblesse and gentry in Dublin were at that hour,
or at the first visitor's knock at the door, immediately brilliantly
lighted up, and if both parties were perfectly disengaged, the guests
remained; each room displaying richly cut glass lustres and glass
chandeliers illuminated with wax; there was a numerous display of
card-tables; the servants attending in rich liveries; while lords and
knights, and commoners, and stately dames, and ladies gay, came attired
in their court costume. The company partook of tea, coffee, &c.; in the
course of the evening lemonade, orgeat, cake, wine, negus, jellies,
sweetmeats, and confections, (for the luxury of ice was then unknown,)
were handed around to the company, many of whom had meantime sat down to
the card-table, some playing whist, cribbage, or tredrille; some at
ombre, and others at loo. And as the clock struck ten the company
separated, and all retired.

Ladies of high rank usually visited in their state sedan-chairs, which
were stuffed, and lined with white and pink satin, and externally
decorated with different rich ornaments; large silk tassels dangled at
the four angular points of the roof, and the highest top, or pinnacle,
was surmounted by a gilt coronet reposing on a crimson cushion; three,
sometimes four, footmen, according to the rank of the individual,
habited in splendid liveries, and arranged in single files, preceded the
sedan-chair, each bearing a lighted flambeau. And sooth to say, some of
the old dowagers, when the doubtful light of the flambeau flashed upon
their withered visages, incontinently reminded the spectator of the
waxen figure of queen Elizabeth in the glass-case at Westminster-Abbey!

The drawing-room night arrived, and was crowded by numbers of the
nobility and gentry of both sexes, when the old and the young were
assembled together. It was indeed a splendid scene--a galaxy of beauty
and magnificence; the dresses were superb; and bright and brilliant were
the blaze of gems and jewels that adorned the brows, ears, and encircled
the lovely necks of the young, and sparkled on those of a more matronly
description. The youthful and lovely fair presenting no unfavourable
specimen of the beauty of the daughters of Erin; their cheeks rivalling
the rose, and blushing in graceful adolescence; while their lovely
bosoms, glowing in healthful bloom, reflected a pearly radiance around
the diamonds which sparkled upon and adorned them.

Several ladies of the nobility and gentry, amounting to many hundreds,
were presented, and all of whom were most graciously received by the
truly kind and agreeable Duchess.

The amusements of the evening commenced. Several grave minuets were
danced in a most marvellous solemn pace; to these succeeded the _minùet
de là Cour_, which was danced by Sir Patricius Placebo and Lady Letitia
Raymond, to the great entertainment of the Duke and Duchess, whose
gravity, in sooth to say, was upon this occasion quite borne down and
vanquished. Then followed cotillions, which were succeeded
by contre-dances, which ended the amusements of the night. Numerous
card-tables were placed, and were not unoccupied by the elder part of
the assemblage, many of whom went away with their purses many a _minus_
diminished, when they at solemn leisure reckoned their losses on the
said night or ensuing morning. But the fun and the drollery of the
evening seemed to concentrate in the ridicule attached to Sir Philip
Fumbally, a civic knight and alderman, who somewhat resembled, in
corporal shape and form, the paunch of Falstaff, with all the stiffness
of mine ancient Pistol--aye, and the very nose of renowned Bardolph!
However we must take up the brush and finish our portrait. Sir Philip
was in stature about four feet five, a perfect rotundity in corpulence,
fat short hands, fat short legs; and his face--oh, ye gods, such a face
was his! Forehead, he had none! his hair was red, his small ferret eyes
were grey, if eyes they could be called, which were indeed to him _no
windows of the soul_! but closed as if under the awful influence of
Somnus! His nose was flat, and in colour ruddy red, his chubby cheeks
the same; and his mouth opened and grinned with all the agreeability of
a cayman or crocodile! His laugh and look were horrid, the former the
diapason of a demon, and the latter the very outline of Memistopheles.
Leaning upon his unwieldy arm was seen his long-necked, long-armed, and
long-legged ugly lady. The Irish, who are somewhat "both the great,
vulgar, and the small," too much given liberally to bestow
_soubriquets_, nicknamed this unparalleled pair _flesh and bone_! And
Sir Patricius Placebo somewhat wittily observed, upon his word of
honour, as a true knight, that Lady Fumbally always reminded him of an
undertaker's horse, a Rosinante covered with a compound of velvet
trappings and nodding plumage, withal to cover the skeleton which they
adorned!

When the presentations commenced, Sir Philip, "like a doating mallard,"
waddled after the unfurled train of "his darling duckie," (by which
endearing name he familiarly styled my Lady Fumbally,) it so happened
that in discharging this uxorious task he tripped up fairly, or rather
foully, his lady's train, and by which losing his equipoise, the worthy
knight was very nearly tripped up himself. The courtiers all tittered,
and some indeed extended it to a most uncourtly loud laugh. The lady,
like unto Lot's wife, would fain turn around in defiance of all courtly
etiquette, and her visage seemed deeply to participate in the
_bouleversement_ of her velvet train. Here the amiable knight,
compassionating her trodden down vanity, fairly took up the said
portentous train, which was soon somewhat incontinently snatched by a
chamberlain in waiting from the grasp of the knight, and again permitted
to perform its meanders on the carpet _ad libitum_. The laugh and
titters were again renewed. Mr. Berenger, who was standing close to Sir
Patricius Placebo, seemed to be quite roused from his usual
_nonchalance_, and whispered Sir Patricius, "this is too bad, _risu
ineptu nulla res ineptior est_; (nothing is so foolish as the laugh of
fools!) however, we courtiers are always too fond of a laugh, that is to
say, (_crede experto_,) provided that it be never directed against
ourselves! Sir Patricius, we (with his fore-finger touching the facial
nerve of his nose) _have been_ at the court of good old Carolus!"

The worthy Baronet, to whom these observations were addressed, did not
commit himself by one single comment, but silently nodded, and was
meantime taking snuff with immoderate rapidity, and in no stinted
quantities; and when these piquant remarks were made by the ornament of
the old court, Sir Patricius politely and gently as possible laughed
(_voce depresso_) his heh, heh, heh, and his ahem! "Yes, yes, Mr.
Berenger, _indeed we_ have seen the world!--ahem!

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!"

Sir Philip Fumbally was the renowned and recorded alderman who at a
civic feast loudly proclaimed that Marshal Turenne had taken GREAT
UMBRAGE, and proposed as a right gallant toast--"Health to the mighty
and glorious conqueror of GREAT UMBRAGE, the valiant Turenne!" The toast
was drank with great enthusiasm; but soon each civic guest asked
significantly his neighbour the geographical position of GREAT UMBRAGE;
was it in France, in Flanders, Utopia, or the Lord knows where? The
Gazetteer was put in requisition, and the general atlas (such as the
times afforded) were called for, and were conned over. But alas!
UMBRAGE--the proud, the great, and mighty, could no where be found; its
place was a blank amid the nations!

What conduced to the mistake or blunder was, that a pique had arisen at
that time between General Konigsmark and General Geis (subsequent to the
passage of the river Neckar in Germany,) against the Duc d'Enghien, (by
whose valour that pass was won, and also Wimpfen was taken;) declaring
that the two former would quit the army, &c. At this declaration the
Field Marshal Viscount Turenne, it was rumoured, had _taken_ UMBRAGE! It
was upon this _datum_ that the worthy alderman had built his _el
dorado_, his airy citadel, his undiscoverable principality and victory!
But Turenne soared above the impetuosity of Konigsmark, and the
obstinacy of the other two. Turenne was a hero! and one who would scorn
to the city achievement of _taking_ UMBRAGE from friend or foe!

For about the space of an hour the lovely Lady Adelaide was permitted to
remain at the drawing-room, the delight of every eye, and the theme of
every tongue.

The Duke sat down to play at tredrille with the Countess Dowager of
Ossory and Lord Glandarah. This game, as the name implies, was played by
three persons at a small triangular table, which in these our degenerate
days, are shown only as curiosities in the cabinets of the curious; and
the Duke, when they left off play, arose a winner of about twenty
pounds; for in their quiet, snug way the good folks of those days often
lost or won fourteen or fifteen pounds of the current coin of the realm
at a pool of tredrille, which was then considered _most moderate_ play!

About the hour of eleven o'clock the Duke and Duchess, who had been much
gratified and amused during the course of the evening, arose, and bowing
most gracefully and courteously to their guests, broke up the
drawing-room, and retired.

The company soon departed for their homes, highly pleased and
gratified with the courteous deportment of the noble pair; charmed alike
by their affable manners and fascinating attentions equally bestowed on
all. It would be tedious at this time of day to detail the names, and it
might seem invidious to record the particular beauties that graced the
brilliant circle, which upon that memorable evening crowded and adorned
the splendid suite of rooms at Dublin Castle.




CHAPTER VII.

    Young innocent, on whose sweet forehead mild
    The parted ringlet shone in simplest guise,
    An inmate in the home of RAYMOND smil'd,
    Or blest his noonday walk.--She was his only child.

    CAMPBELL.


The faculty having strongly recommended sea-bathing as salutary and
beneficial to the health of Lady Adelaide, the Duke, in consequence of
this advice, purchased a hunting lodge, not remote from the sea-shore,
and beautifully situated amid the romantic scenery of the county of
Wicklow, which, from its proximity to the metropolis, afforded a
convenient retreat, and from whence he could, with little or no delay,
receive and despatch the duties attendant upon his high official
situation. As soon as the mansion was placed in a state of proper
repair, and becomingly furnished to be worthy of the reception of the
representative of majesty, the Duke resolved, for the benefit of the
health of a beloved and only daughter, as well as for his own repose
from the fatigues of office, to retire to his newly-acquired purchase of
Lætely Abbey--for thus was this hunting lodge denominated; and this
resolve was not long without being carried into execution. The Duke and
Duchess of Tyrconnel, accompanied by Lady Adelaide, the sisters of the
Duke, not forgetting Sir Patricius Placebo, that witty knight; along
with a numerous attendant suite, left Dublin Castle for their sojourn at
Lætely Abbey, and after a few hours travelling, they safely reached the
place of their destination.

Letely (or Lætely) Abbey (_quasi lætus locus_), for by this latter
designation antiquarians insisted that it should be called, was indeed a
lovely place, surrounded as it was by all the combining beauties of
natural scenery: here stood the venerable ruins of a decayed abbey, its
walls wreathed and its summits crowned with ivy, while its grand oriel
or eastern window, magnificent even in decay, was festooned and
enlivened with various creeping plants, the sweet-smelling clematis, the
jessamine, and woodbine, trailed around the ruins of the stone casement,
through which the sun-beams cheerfully shone, while the foliage
gracefully waved in the blast, and the blossoms all sweetly perfumed the
surrounding air. To the right of the abbey arose an extensive
sheep-walk, whose boundaries were crowned by lofty groves of arbutus, or
the strawberry tree; laurel, holly, added their combining greens and
shades; and though last, not least, myrtle groves, which in this county
grow to an amazing height, verifying the very just description of the
great pastoral poet, Virgil, "_amantes littora myrtos_"--myrtles which
rejoice in being near to the shores of the sea. While in the fore-ground
of the landscape, in all its splendid azure majesty, burst forth upon
the delighted spectator's view the mighty ocean, its bosom studded with
frequent white sails, which, as they scudded along, brightly glistened
in the rays of a refulgent autumnal sun. The shore was indented by high
and undulating downs, all richly cultivated, whose green sward, in
smoothness and brilliance, vied with, if not rivalled, any carpet from
the looms of Bruxelles, Turkey, or Persia. A range of meadows succeeded
the downs, which were bordered with hedge-rows of oak, sycamore, and
ash. Adjoining this enlivening scene stood a dense grove of forest
trees, now glowing in all the rich and diversified tints of autumn. The
dark green hue of the American spruce formed a rich and striking
contrast with its deep brown cones, which gracefully clustered amid
their parent verdure, and undulated upon the waving branches, while they
bent to the breeze. The lemon-tinted leaves of the Alpine larch here
were also seen, which were finely opposed to the deep copper colour of
the umbrageous beech, and alternately blending with the bright green of
the Scottish fir, or the deeper shades of the ilex, or ever-green oak.

To the left yawned a rocky, dark, romantic glen, surmounted by
stupendous rocks frowning on the abyss beneath, whose sides were studded
with every variety of wild herb and plant indigenous to a mountainy
region, and, among others, that rare plant, the _adianthum_, fringed the
interstices of the frowning cliffs.

Beneath reposed in a secluded dell the cottage of the Duke's steward.
The latticed windows were trellised with the rose, jasmin, and woodbine;
the blue smoke which ascended and curled into clouds amid the
overhanging foliage, betokened habitation and comfort. To the cottage
was annexed an extensive farm-yard, with all the appendices of
corn-stacks, turf, and hay likewise, _cum multis aliis_, besides the
various addition of live stock, all of which added interest and
animation to the scene.

Through the bosom of this glen slowly meandered along a mountain
stream, (in winter a torrent,) whose devious course was distinctly
outlined by an accompanying range of alder trees, that in double columns
densely shaded its winding banks.

In the back ground, veiled in dark neutral tint, arose a craggy
mountain, whose base was richly dotted with groves of larch and spruce.
Prominently in the fore-ground was situated the Duke's hunting lodge,
which, as we have already said, was denominated Lætely Abbey. This
structure was built in the style of architecture of the family mansions
of the Elizabethan period. An extensive lake, supplied by a copious
mountain stream, presented itself in front of the house, until, winding
onward, it was lost amid the adjoining woods. Close by was a deer-park,
well enclosed, and numerously stocked with deer, some of whom
gregariously reposed, while others were seen trooping through the dense
woods, and gazing at the passing stranger, which added interest and a
picturesque beauty to the scene.

But the pride, grace, and ornament of Lætely Abbey was to be found in
the attractive and lovely Adelaide, who had now entered upon her
fifteenth year--so rapidly onward does time advance. Indeed it was no
flattery to say, that Adelaide was most truly engaging in her manners.
Her statue would have graced the design of Phidias or Praxiteles; her
lovely and expressive countenance captivated every beholder; the rose of
youth was upon her cheek, and her skin was fair and pure as the unsunned
lily; her dark blue eyes sparkled intelligence, beaming beneath her
beautifully arched eye-brows. Her look, gesture, and demeanour,
communicated joy; and we shall not deny a parental pride to the Duke and
Duchess, at the same time, that her looks beamed forth delight upon all
who beheld her; while her converse, sustained with a voice sweet,
distinct, and melodious, charmed every listening ear. Her manners were
unaffected, as they were natural, and all was silence when she spoke.
Her figure was graceful, as we have before noticed, and beautifully and
finely proportioned. When animated by discourse her features seemed to
be lighted up by almost celestial fire; her brilliant eyes sparkled
bright as the native diamond, and her entire countenance became
irresistibly charming.

To those of inferior rank her deportment was kind and unassuming, and
down to the lowest domestic she was beloved, for they felt and knew that
her delight was to protect those beneath her power, and not to tyrannise
over them.

With an ardent and sanguine admiration of the beauties of nature,
Adelaide too possessed an enthusiastic love of literature, conjoined to
a correctly formed and delicately refined taste. Every day her mind
expanded, from the literary lore which she imbibed, and gradually, but
extensively, her brilliant talents developed their powers. Poetry,
painting, and music, principally fascinated, as they are ever wont to
do, the feeling and romantic mind of youth. Some of those impressions
thus elicited Adelaide was occasionally in the habit of committing to
writing. One day, while some workmen of the Duke were employed in
breaking up ground upon the confines of an ancient, but neglected
cemetery, which surrounded a small dilapidated church, stationed on a
green and rising knoll, whose ruinous walls were thickly overspread with
ivy, while the alder, holly, and thorn, had stoutly installed
them-selves in what had been once the chancel--it happened that, upon
digging at the foot of an ancient thorn, they threw up a human skull,
which the Duke caused immediately to be reinterred in the same spot; and
within no distant space of time a tombstone was prepared to surmount the
grave, upon which was duly chiselled a crucifix, with the usual
accompaniments of a death's head, &c., and having called upon his
daughter's muse for some lines to be inscribed thereon, the interesting
Adelaide wrote the following, which was sculptured upon the tomb:--

    INSCRIPTION.

    Rest here in peace beneath this ancient thorn!
    Perhaps thou once didst rural life adorn,
    And raised thy hopes to heaven in yonder aisle:
    Now droops thy relick nigh yon ruin'd pile!
    Still peaceful rest beneath thy parent earth,
    Until awakened to a nobler birth!

The Duke and Duchess having attentively perused this brief inscription,
fondly and affectionately embraced their lovely and much beloved child,
no less pleased with the religious feeling which had called forth their
warm approbation, and which they distinctly expressed, than delighted as
they were with the poetic feeling (for thus their partial fondness
adjudged) with which it was written; considering it as no unfavourable
specimen of the expanding powers of a youthful mind. Adelaide was
infinitely far more delighted by this praise of her parents, an incense
so grateful to her heart, than any aspirant to fame in these our
degenerate days could receive from the partial praise and prejudiced
columns of any literary critick.

Time rapidly moved onward, the winter had passed over with an uncommon
mildness; but the spring, which had now succeeded, proved unusually
harsh, tardy, and severe. The cold north-east wind had incessantly
blown, and vegetation had consequently been chillingly repelled; while
the usual flowers that form the chaplet of spring were chained in their
petals, or wholly destroyed by the frost. And when the merry month of
June arrived, it was indeed unusual and extraordinary to behold the
blossoms of the wild rose, hawthorn, and the laburnum, all mingling
their beauties and their perfumes amid the numerous hedge-rows, and
presenting a diversified mass of colours and foliage, like to the bloom
of a Russian spring, when, melted by a genial vernal sun, trees, plants,
and flowers bud, and immediately burst forth into luxuriant and varied
vegetation; the annual resurrection of nature vigorously springing forth
in renovated youth from the tomb of winter!

One morning while Lady Adelaide was seated in the library reading some
interesting work with that deep attention and wrapt enthusiasm with
which she always dwelt upon a book of merit, she was suddenly
interrupted in her studies by the approach of that important person, (as
in her own estimation she considered herself;) we here speak of the
redoubtable Mrs. Judith Braingwain, who, rushing incontinently into the
library, and quite out of breath, exclaimed, "Oh, my Lady, who would
have thought it? But however marvellous it is, see, yonder they come;
see, there they are, Bishop Rocket along with his tall wife, who, by the
bye, is hardy as a seagull; and, moreover, a whole flock, aye, a
beautiful bevy of dainty damozels besides! See, my Lady, there--there
they are; they are now just entering the porch; aye, there they come,
sure enough!"

"How strange!" replied Lady Adelaide, "we left them at Tyrconnel; what
unaccountable anomaly brings the bishop and family from his palace to
this retired spot?"

Here Mrs. Judith catching at the word _anomaly_, and wholly
uncomprehending it, while she thought proper to confound its meaning,
thus rejoined:--"Anne O'Mally! Oh yes, my dear young Lady, just as if
now before my eyes, I ken that sweet and charming creature, worth a
whole fleet and cargo of such like ladies as Dame Rocket. I remember, ay
faith do I, she was the finest----Oh no, not the finest--that belongs to
another; but as fine a girl as a body might see on a fair May-day in
ould Connaught, any how! And beside, and moreover, she was right loyally
discended [lineally descended] from the great bould pirate princess,
Grace O'Malley, in troth, and sure enough, far and near, and abroad and
at home, far better known, mavourneen, by the famous name of Grana Uile,
who (it is a storical fact) visited Elizabeth,[18] the grand and
conquering queen of all England, in her gallipot [galliot,] afar across
the salt water seas. Oh, Lady Adelaide! Anne O'Malley was indeed a
promising young lady--the finest----"

    [18] Queen Elizabeth received her graciously at court, and offered
    to create her a Countess.--See _Notes_ v. III.

"Nay, nay, nurse," said Lady Adelaide, "be not so flippant in thy
praise, else I shall grow positively jealous. I therefore must stop you
just now, for it seems your tongue runs riot quite with your discretion;
and has bounced off at a tangent in full gallop, jumping pell-mell, hop
and step, from the young and lovely Anne O'Malley to grey-head old
Grana Uile, (of neither of whom, by the bye, did I speak,) until in most
crab-like motion you pounce upon the majestic Elizabeth; and all this
in most manifest and notable contempt of time, place, and circumstance.
This really is not to be endured. Besides, I pray you to remember, that
_once_, however, _there was a time_ when no one was so handsome, so
good, and all so angelic and so forth, as _your own Adelaide_! And, in
undisguised truth, I was in a very fair and hopeful way of being utterly
spoiled, but that happily I turned a deaf and obdurate ear to all your
too partial praise, as well I knew that your commendations all sprung
from overweening kindness. However, just now I am happy to find that you
are converted from your former heresies, and that at length you behold
your poor idol in its mortal shape, imbued with all its natural and
perverse imperfections; and that you are now free to confess that, in
sooth, I am not, as I never was, that angel of excellence, and that
paragon of beauty, which your early devotions conceived me to be. You
have broken your idol, and it has fallen from the pedestal upon which
you had proudly placed it, shivered into atoms on the earth!"

This Lady Adelaide said in a playful way, half pretendedly serious, and
the other half wholly comic.

"Ah, my dear young Lady! and so you are still the idol of goodness, and
the very dragon of beauty! none who ever saw you, who ever knew you, can
think otherwise; this I ever thought you were; and I defy Guy of Warwig,
the seven Champions of Chrysostom, and Saint Patrick himself, to boot,
to deny it if they durst, but that you are the best, the brightest, and
finest young lady in the 'varsal world; and I challenge ould England and
ould Ireland to gainsay me!

It now becomes necessary to say a word or two of this said Bishop
Rocket, who came a visitor to the Duke. Patronage--all powerful
patronage--had placed the mitre upon his brow, as it too often has done
upon the head of many an unmeritorious aspirant to the hierarchy. His
classic acquirements and literary attainments will best be told by the
subsequent details:--Three friends who came to dine _en famille_ one day
at his house in Dublin, sat down, previously to dinner, to play a snug
rubber of whist, thus to pass the intermediate time. It happened to be
of a Friday, during a parliament winter; the printed proceedings of the
House of Lords of the preceding day were brought in, and, as is always
the case, the day of the week and the date of the month surmounted the
top of the page, as the head and front of these transactions. It ran
thus:--"_Die jovis_," &c. "What?" inquired the prelate, addressing one
whom his Lordship considered as the most classic of the trio, "pray,
what is the meaning of _Die jovis_?"

And in order that such of our fair readers who are not conversant with
the Latin tongue may not burst in ignorance with the hierarchical
inquirant, we shall give, _in totidem verbis_, the answer of the learned
Theban, the bishop's friend:--"Why, my good Lord," said the facetious
gentleman, smiling withal, "'fore Jove, my Lord, the two words conjoined
mean nothing more nor less than _Thursday_! upon which day your Lordship
gave your _benedicite_ to the House of Peers!"

His Lordship lost the odd trick, looked all quite discomposed; nor did
he recover himself again until the sumptuous and savoury dinner smoked
upon the board.

Bishop Rocket had enlarged the palace at the See-house of----and had
built, or caused to be built, with his usual want of tact and judgment,
a grand and heavy portico, which fronted the north! Upon the final
completion of this most notable and extraordinary structure the prelate
seemed quite pleased; in which it was conceived that he remained solely
in the singular number. However, he thought fit most condescendingly to
write to a friend, then residing at Rome, a long letter, the burden of
which ran to the following tenor:--"Now, dear and Reverend Sir, as you
are seated, or I, who am a bishop, may say, enthroned at the fountain
head of the fine arts, I have to request that you would have the
goodness to purchase for me twelve statues of the heathen gods and
goddesses to adornate my grand portico, which I have built at an immense
expense; and it is allowed by all the curates in my diocese to have been
accomplished with no inconsiderable portion of taste! And by so doing
you will vastly oblige me."

The Reverend friend thus wrote back a letter, the chief paragraph of
which, in reply to Bishop Rocket, ran to this effect:--"Most dear and
Right Reverend Lord, as your Lordship requires the statues which you
specify, to adorn the portico of a Christian bishop's palace, what would
your Lordship think--(and oh, good, my Lord, I pray you not to be
offended at the voice of truth, which is seldom heard with patience
either within the precincts of courts or the palaces of
prelates!)--what, I pray, my Lord, would you think if I should select
for you, instead of the heathen gods of antiquated Greece and Rome,
_videlicet_: Jupiter, Vulcan, Mars, Venus, Apollo, Bacchus, and Co.,
shall I, most dear and Reverend Lord, transmit to you statues of the
twelve apostles, which surely, most venerated Prelate, you will find to
be, upon mature deliberation, every way far more episcopal, apostolical,
more in good taste, and indeed I must add, quite orthodox. And
assuredly, my good Lord, I feel, and am most fully confident to say and
pronounce it, that the Reverend Head of the holy see would most freely
and cheerfully acquiesce in yielding his assent and consent to permit
these said apostolical statues to be removed and transported to 'the
Island of Saints,' so soon as His Holiness shall be informed that these
stone-sculptured saints are destined for a brother bishop!"

But know, gentle reader, that Bishop Rocket, whatever might have been
the cause, never even deigned to return any answer to this remonstrative
letter of his too candid friend; and here consequently the proposal fell
to the ground, and never was again resumed. The portico, however, still
stood, presenting its dark _facadè_ to the bleak northern blast,
unsurmounted by statue either mythological or apostolical.

Mrs. Rocket _had been_--we must speak here historically in the past
tense--had once been a fine woman, and still a portion of that beauty,
though somewhat clipped by the shears of old Father Chronos, still
remained. It was this attracted the bishop when only a curate, and

    "Passing rich on forty pounds a year."

But all powerful love, whose transcendant sway remains undisputed from
the days of the Teian bard down to those of the mighty minstrel of our
own time, in whose own words we are told,

    "Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
    And men below, and saints above,
    For love is heaven, and heaven is love!"

This potent urchin slily sprung a shaft, which securely settled in the
curate's reverend breast, but which was not long permitted by the
compassionate lady hopelessly to rankle in the bosom of her accepted
mate; for ere long the "happy, happy pair" were indissolubly united in
the bands of holy wedlock. Some folks however, and, by the bye, not few
in number, gave it as their opinion, that the lady happening to be the
niece and nearest relative to the bishop of----who was unmarried, and
besides much attached to his niece, that there appeared to be more of
prudent calculation for the future, than ardent love at the present, in
the transaction; inasmuch, that a large portion of the uncle's fortune,
if not the entire, would ultimately vest in the selected fair one; and
perchance, moreover, a rich benefice to boot, which might be expected
from his Lordship's great episcopal patronage, that in the developement
of time would be bestowed upon Curate Rocket. And all these conjectures,
in due and ordinary course, finally and fully occurred. Indeed, in
confirmation of these conjectures, there existed an additional cause for
nobody's doubting the truth of this popular surmise; it was no less a
cogent reason than this, that the lady was by some ten years, at least,
elder than the man to whom she was affianced. This was indeed an
objection not to be overruled by any thesis or syllogism of the schools;
there was here

    "No quirk left, no quiddit,"

to defeat its truth. It was in contradiction to sense, to propriety,
and meet discretion. Upon this subject thus speaks the immortal
Shakespeare, the great moral bard, and poet of nature:--

    "Too old, by heaven; let still the woman take
    An elder than herself; so wears she to him,
    So sways she level in her husband's heart.
    For----however we do praise ourselves,
    Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
    More longing, wavering, sooner lost or worn,
    Than women's are!"

We must now attempt to present to the reader's eye a just description
of the peripatetic, or walking-dress, of Mrs. Rocket, which no doubt
pertained to a strange, peculiar, and extraordinary costume, which was
in vogue in the times to which we advert. Upon her head she wore a small
cap of Valenciennes lace, which was enveloped in a large and ponderous
machine, ycleped a _calash_; which was so denominated from its structure
and conformation, bearing a close similitude to the head or leather
covering of the French vehicle which is called by a similar name. This
structure was formed of various hoops of whalebone, arranged in
equidistant, semicircular, parallels, forming _en massè_ a huge and
outlandish head-gear; the outside was covered with black lutestring; and
the penultimate circle of this pent-house was adornated and fringed with
deep lace; the interior was lined with rose-coloured silk, which
artfully threw a bloom upon the wearer's visage, whether wife or widow.
This ponderous machine could be advanced or drawn back (like the head of
a modern barouche or landau) by the occupant _ad libitum_, according as
wind or weather permitted, or caprice might dictate. Likewise, with
equal facility, the head of the wearer might be wholly divested of this
incumbrance, which, in such a case, was handed over to the custody of
the attending lackey.

The reader will please to observe, that this head costume was prevalent
before the modern umbrella, or still more recent parasol came into
general use; and indeed, in some degree, so far as the covering of the
head was taken into calculation, this invention, strange though it may
at the present time appear, so far fully answered the functions and
intentions of these later discoveries of modern art. The lady wore a
large silk cloak, trimmed and flounced with ermine; she also carried a
muff, small in size and calibre, formed of the same materials. To these
were added, as the _materialè_ of her dress, a stiff flowered silk
mantua, supported upon a bell-hoop; an apron trimmed with lace; high
heeled shoes formed likewise a part of the dress, with the dangerous
appanage of pattens, long since exploded in these parts.

Such was the strange costume which formed the morning or peripatetic
habiliments of Mrs. Rocket. This lady also carried a walking-staff, or
cane; by this we do not, in any measure, mean to assimilate it to the
most formidable and terrific walking-staff once borne by the bluff king
Harry of tyrannic memory, and now exhibited in the tower of London with
sundry other curiosities that belong not to our province to enumerate.
No, gentle reader, the simple staff which the lady bore was of a most
placable description; it was, in sooth, a tall tapering indian cane, and
adorned on the top with a head of beautiful china porcelain, upon which,
in rich and brilliant colouring, were depicted some of the most
beautiful wild flowers of summer. And through every change of weather,
hail or snow, storm, rain, or sun-shine, was to be seen this
indefatigable pedestrian trudging her daily peregrinations. Often, when
remonstrated with for thus running the risk of catching cold, and so
forth, when in good humour, which was _not always_ the case, she was
wont to hum or troll forth an old ditty, one stave of which ran pretty
much to the following effect and tenor:--

      Why at home should I budge,
      Not abroad freely trudge,
    My bairns and I altogether?
      While my skin I don't grudge,
      So be heav'n my judge!
    To melt or to freeze with the weather.

Very often her temper was extremely cross, which she vented in scolding
the servants right and left, wrong or right; and Sunday being a day of
rest, was very often selected, with due circumspection, for this
wholesome exercise of her lungs. An auld Scottish steward, who
superintended the agricultural establishment, upon having auricular
proof how matters stood within the mansion, slily remarked: "Ah, wae to
the hoose where hens craw, and the cocks are silent!"

Madam Rocket had the reputation all throughout her husband's diocese of
being truly a most notable lady in every sublunary concern. She was
constituted as sole manageress of the entire home department at the
See-house of----; and it was there bruited abroad and around the
country far and near, that the "_omnia Romæ cum pretio_" of Juvenal,
might be fairly applied to Madam Rocket's establishment; but it was
insisted that the "_cito peritura_" did by no means belong to the lady.
However, rumour went on, with its gossip tongue, to whisper that at the
See-house of----every thing was vendible, from the produce of the
farm, the barn, the poultry-yard, the piggery, the dairy, the fruit and
flower garden--nay, even down to the kitchen garden; every article of
which was duly transmuted, as was insisted, into the _Regina Pecunia_.

The Bishop and his lady, albeit they were no favourites with the Duke
and Duchess, were nevertheless most hospitably invited, and even
pressed, according to the custom of the times, to remain to dinner, and
also to continue their guests for some days at Lætely Abbey. But this
was upon their part most gratefully declined. The Bishop and Mrs. Rocket
partook of a collation, and departed for Dublin, declining the warm and
hospitable invitation upon plea of business in the capital, and to
rejoin their family, who had been with them at Arklow for the benefit of
sea-bathing, and who had that morning proceeded on their way to the
metropolis.

During the residence of the vice-regal visitors in the county of
Wicklow, they visited all the romantic scenery and the various
picturesque views, each lofty mountain, retired valley, and secluded
stream or glen, within the precincts of that fairy region.

The lake of Luggelaw made a deep impression upon the Lady Adelaide. She
thus expressed her feelings upon viewing it: "It was," she said, "a
scene so sad, so lonely, and solitary; so wild, so rude, and
mountain-locked, that one here might almost imagine that they saw one of
the secluded pilgrims of Salvator Rosa studiously wrapt in silent
devotion, intent on the sacred volume which he held, and praying to his
Creator; the wilderness his temple, and his choir the roaring cataract
and the accompanying winds of heaven!"

"Vastly well, Adelaide," said the Duke, smiling with pleasure, "vastly
well, indeed; and now, my love, to complete your sketch, people these
craggy heights above us with three or four banditti; put helmets upon
their heads and lances in their firm hands; then on a sudden our whole
party, spurring onward our jaded steeds, are to fly from the attack; add
to this too to your sketch, and I really think it will be then a
finished _tableaux_, and quite in the due and terrific tone and style of
this great poetic painter."

Adelaide sweetly smiled, but replied not.

They next visited Glendalough, or the Seven Churches, and the "sweet
Vale of Ovoca." Ascending the high hill of Knockmokil, Adelaide, in
impromptu, repeated the following lines:--

    Romantic spirit of this mountain glen
    Tell the blest time we may here meet again!
    Wilt thou to distant Aughnavanock stray,
    Or wend, 'mid Lara's wilds, thy lonely way?
    Or here ascend Knockmokil's lofty height,
    Where vales transcendant burst upon the sight;
    Sea, grove, and forest, rivers, all combine
    Their matchless charms, to stamp the spot divine?

They next visited Loch Dan, the Demon's Glen and Waterfall, the
Waterfall of Powerscourt, &c. &c.

Lady Adelaide derived the greatest benefit from sea-bathing, and her
health became completely re-established, which one day called forth the
following eulogium from Sir Patricius Placebo; while engaged in
conversation with the Duchess, he observed, "Oh, my Lady, how truly
lovely the Lady Adelaide looks in renovated health and beauty! Each day
still adds to her charms; and, in verity, I should be fully justified to
speak of her in the words of the historic worthy, old Titus Livius,
(whose name, by the bye, the ridiculous French sink down into _Tit
Live_--just, my Lady, as if they were speaking of the little bird called
Tom Tit!) his words are these: '_Adulta virgo; adeo eximia, forma, ut
qûacunquè incedebat converteret omnium oculos_'--'An adult virgin of
such exquisite form, that wherever her steps were turned, thither with
delight the looks of all beholders were directed.'"

The Duchess duly curtsied, and thanked the Baronet for the classical
compliment which he had paid; and said, "that inasmuch as she was mother
to the object of his praise, she confessed that withal she was indeed
too partial to her beloved daughter to gainsay the polite eulogium of
Sir Patricius."

The Duke and Duchess determined to remain during each year for some
months at their delightful retreat amid the romantic beauties of the
county of Wicklow; this residence only to be interrupted by the
occasional absence of the Duke to hold a levee or a privy council at
Dublin Castle; the routine of state dinners, or when her Grace presided
at drawing-rooms, balls, &c. or in occasionally going in state to the
theatre royal, &c. &c. The autumnal months were passed at Tyrconnel
Castle, but the winter invariably was spent at Dublin Castle.

Thus days and months passed over, marked only in the calendar by health,
tranquillity, and social pleasure, without the occurrence of any event
of importance sufficient to be recorded here. Two years at this point of
time had passed over in peaceful serenity, Lady Adelaide daily improving
in the expansion of her mental powers, and in gradual increase of
personal beauty. The Duke, who had been long absent from Tyrconnel
Castle, proposed to pass the ensuing summer and autumn at that lordly
residence, and with all due pomp and solemnity there to celebrate
Adelaide's birth-day, who would at that time enter into her seventeenth
year; and from thence, these high ceremonials completed, his Grace
proposed to proceed to Dublin, to open the biennial session of
parliament: and preparations were immediately set on foot to carry these
intentions into effect.

During the absence of the noble proprietor Tyrconnel Castle had
undergone a thorough repair, and many judicious alterations and
improvements had taken place in the internal decoration of the castle,
as well as in the external adornment of the lawns, parks, and gardens of
this princely abode. Pursuant to their determination, their Graces set
out accordingly, upon a fine summer morning, on their journey to their
ancient castle; and the space of a week having been occupied in
travelling, the entire family of the Duke safely arrived at their
destination.

Adelaide was peculiarly delighted once more to behold the scenes of her
infancy, which to every feeling mind have indelible charms; and the
morning after her arrival at Tyrconnel she ascended the ramparts of the
castle, to review the surrounding prospect, so dear to her recollection.
It was a serene summer morning. Our readers perchance may recollect the
scenery which surrounds the castle of Tyrconnel, the lofty mountains of
Slieve-Doon, and the great gap or pass to the mountains, called
Barna-More, all of which we have endeavoured to describe in the second
chapter of this work. Adelaide's mind was fully in unison with the
serenity of the morning, and being deeply impressed with the poetic
impulse, she produced her tablets, and poured forth her tribute to the
_Genius Loci_, in the following

    INVOCATION TO THE RIVER ESKE.

    Roll onward, fierce torrent! roll on to the main!
    What bastion or tow'r may thy billows restrain?
    Resounds thy hoarse current's loud thundering roar
    Round cloud-crested Slieve-Doon and wide Barna-More.[19]
    How oft hath the foe-man deep plunged in thy wave,
    Thy billows encrimsoned with blood of the brave!
    These towers shall yet crumble, these rampires shall fall,
    But thou, rapid Eske, be survivor of all!
    While down to the confines of uncounted time,
    Thy waters roll onward in measure sublime!

    Swift emblem of LIFE, changing, flowing anew;
    Still the symbol thou art of eternity too!
    Unceasing thy current, impetuous thy force,
    Speeding on, full-tiding thy unaltered course:
    Still glide, regal stream! let thy bright waters flow,
    And foam 'gainst these bastions, which frown'd on the foe.

    Oh, murmuring Eske! from thy deep rocky bed,
    O'er dream of my childhood sweet charms thou has
    shed,
    Whilst gurgling thy waters, to sleep lulled my head!
    Nor shall mem'ry ever her pencil withdraw
    From thy waters, bright Eske, and thy
    heights, proud Tyraugh!

    Flow on, rapid Eske! still roll in commotion;
    Unite thy deep foam with the wave of the ocean!

    [19] _i. e._ The great gap, or pass to the mountains.

Time onward rapidly fled on downy pinions, and the birth-day of the
Lady Adelaide, which occurred upon the Eve of All-Hallows, was now fast
approaching, in celebration of which most magnificent preparations were
making, had been made, and were in a progressive state of continuation
at this hospitable chateau. The Duke and Duchess seemed fully resolved
to spare no expense to testify, if indeed it were at all necessary so to
do, their love and attachment to an amiable and affectionate daughter,
who was most truly worthy of her parents' love, and of every respect and
honour that could be awarded her.




CHAPTER VIII.

    Vetus opinio est, jam usque ab heroicis ducta temporibus,
    Eaque et populi Romani et omnium gentium firmata
    Consensu, versari quandam inter homines divinationem
    Quam Græci MANTIKE appellant,
    Id est, præsensionem, et scientiam rerum futurarum.

    CICERO, DE DIVINATIONE.


The thirty-first day of October, _anno salutis_ sixteen hundred and
----, being the Eve of All-Hallows, happened also to be the anniversary
of the birth-day of our heroine, which was duly to be celebrated upon
this memorable day with more than its accustomed splendour, as we have
already premised in the foregoing chapter.

Adelaide had now entered her seventeenth year; so rapidly doth old
father Time speed along, borne upon his ever fugitive wings, verifying
the truly appropriate motto that we have somewhere seen engraved upon
the dial of a clock, "DUM SPECTAS, FUGIO!"--"while you look on, I fly!"

Mrs. Judith Braingwain, Lady Adelaide's nurse and foster-mother, and who
from the very beginning seemed resolved not to hold a subordinate place
in the back ground of our story, but firmly determined to carry matters
on in somewhat a consequential way, had now become her young Lady's
_femme de chambre_, and was ever and had been on the alert in instilling
into her youthful and susceptible mind the superstitions of her native
isle; and these stories, daily and hourly as they were repeated, did not
fail to make an impression upon a youthful and romantic mind. This
morning, at an early hour, she attended upon her young lady and
foster-child, a title she was pre-eminently proud of using upon all
occasions. The Irish have been ever proverbial for loving their
foster-children even beyond their own, and the ancient crone who made
her appearance was a living proof of the truth of the assertion. Mrs.
Braingwain having respectfully and affectionately congratulated her
noble foster-child upon the anniversary of her birth, entered into a
long and elaborate series of reminiscences of all the sad and mournful
events which had happened to herself and others upon the Eve of
All-Hallows. But as we are inclined to imagine that the old lady's
melancholy ditties are not very likely to awaken an interest and
sympathy in the reader's breast, we have therefore magnanimously
determined to suppress them altogether.

The loquacious old dame continued her long-winded reminiscences without
the slightest compunction of mercy or conscience, until interrupted by
the tolling forth of the breakfast bell, which luckily saved the Lady
Adelaide from further prolixity, by at once silencing the garulous old
nurse, whom she regarded from her early years, and wished not to offend.
Adelaide rejoiced at the timely interruption that cut short the prosings
of the old crone, and promptly descended to the breakfast-room.

A number of young people of both sexes were invited to dinner, to
celebrate Adelaide's birth-day; and the party was to be enlarged in the
evening by an invitation to crack nuts at the castle, which was sure to
include the _nucleus_ of a good supper. All the principal persons of
distinction for several miles around the castle were invited, and all
with alacrity obeyed the festive summons.

Lady Adelaide, although not always much interested upon such festivals,
yet upon this occasion manifested some degree of anxiety, which was
caused no doubt by that noble generosity of character which she so
eminently possessed, and ever invariably felt greater pleasure in the
gratification of her friends, than in being personally gratified.

The dinner went off with much _eclat_; pleasantry, wit, and good-humour,
all aiding with their potent charms. When the cloth was removed from the
ducal table, and the desert and wines were duly placed in order, a
stately plateau of confectionary and pastry arrived at the side-table,
which was destined for the juvenile guests, who were there seated. That
day was indeed a right busy one to all the cooks, scullions, and
kitcheners of the household. The thrifty pastry-cooks of these happy
days were most notable for, and assumed very considerable pride, in
raising those superstructures called "pastry fortifications." The
display chosen for this festival was the model of Tyrconnel Castle,
flanked by bastion, battlement, and tower; armorial flags, heraldically
emblazoned in sugar, decorated the summit of each tower and parapet; and
the fosse was floated from its parent Eske, which, instead of a
mountain-stream, supplied the said fosse with a broad and deep portion
of excellent Spanish flummery, upon which was anchored a tiny Armada;
the heights of the barbican and the embrasures of the terrace were
defended with a long train of "eatable artillery," and manned by a large
disposable garrison of sugar-almonds; the watch-towers were alternately
constructed of jelly and _blanc manger_.

The Duke now gave the word of "assault!" which command was
incontinently obeyed, the juvenile party in every direction making one
grand attack, by a general _coup de fourchette_, _de couteau_, _de
cullier_. The assault was crowned with entire success; the fosse of
Spanish flummery quickly disappeared; the whole train of "eatable
artillery" promptly were destroyed; the jelly and _blanc manger_ towers
were scaled, battered down, and swallowed in a thrice; the Armada
shattered and dispersed; the entire garrison without any remorse or
mercy were devoured, and the "pastry fortifications" completely razed,
without leaving a wreck behind! This attack upon the confectionary
_bijou_ much gratified the juvenile assailants, and highly pleased the
noble hosts, and the grave company seated at their festive board were
most marvellously entertained withal.

In some short time after, _selon des régles_, the sightless bard, old
Cormac, was led in, bearing his harp beneath his arm. He courteously
expostulated with those who would fain save him the trouble, by
observing, "that he had long borne that instrument his companion in joy
or in sorrow, his last and almost only solace upon earth; and that when
he was unable to bear his harp, his wish was then to be borne to the
grave!" Upon the entrance of the aged minstrel into the saloon, the Duke
ordered that a goblet of mead, foaming and sparkling to the brim, should
be given to old Cormac; which was accordingly done; and then the toast
of that high festival was to be drank, which he repeated: "The health of
the noble young Lady Adelaide," said the sightless bard; and to which he
was facetiously pleased to annex a friendly addition of his own, which
was, "and long may the Lady Adelaide reign!" This is a favourite
expression of fervent zeal and affection used by the warm-hearted Irish
to their superiors. Now in crowds advanced the young folks, who in
various circles thronged around old Cormac, making various inquiries,
and asking numerous questions: "Was the old man always blind?"

"Nae, nae, that I was not. I once could see, and well; and _truly the
light was sweet, and a pleasant thing it was to behold the light of the
sun_! But now all is dim and dark. Yet I trust that I shall hereafter be
permitted to behold the light of heaven! That fervent hope and my harp
are my consolations during my pilgrimage of darkness!"

It was next inquired of him how long he had been blind? He replied, "I
was of the same age that our dear and ever honoured young Lady (heaven
bless her here and hereafter!) has entered into this holy day.--I was in
my seventeenth year."

The Duke interdicted all further interruptions: "Cormac, my honest
fellow, I fear that my young friends are somewhat disposed to trespass
too much upon your time and patience; so quaff your flagon and strike
your harp. But remember, Cormac, nothing dismal upon this happy day; no
dirge--not even an overture, will be endured!"

Cormac made due obeisance; and seizing his harp, struck its accompanying
notes, while he sung the following:--

    SONG.

    Who would not toast that lovely maid,
    And drink the health of Adelaide,
                And fill a bumper round?

    Who, in wandering o'er the glade,
    Could meet a nymph like Adelaide?
                Then fill a bumper round!

    The beauties of a court would fade
    When they're compared with Adelaide--
                Let all fill bumpers round!

    Of sweetest flowers a crown we'll braid,
    To deck the brow of Adelaide,
                While bumpers flow around!

    Alas! old Cormac he is blind,
    Or soon the flow'rets he could find
    Should braid the brow and gem the breast
    Of Adelaide the loveliest,
                While bumpers foam'd around!

Much applause rang forth a chorus to the minstrel's impromptu
Anacreontic, and flowing bumpers were quaffed to "the health of Lady
Adelaide!" A glass of Burgundy was handed to old Cormac, which he
respectfully declined, but with the request that a glass of pure
Innishowen (whiskey) might be substituted in place of it; and with this
sturdy appendage to his request, "that it might be unadulterated!" These
demands being all strictly complied with, he most devoutly gave his
young lady's health, tossed down at the instant the pure Innishowen, and
in due approval cordially smacked his lips as the beverage disappeared.

The ladies soon retired, Adelaide deeply blushing at all the honours and
attentions bestowed this day; and felt most grateful to the sightless
old bard, who had in so feeling a manner manifested such attachment to
his young mistress.

The ceremonies of the tea-table being duly concluded, the graver portion
of the company sat down to their cards: various games were played, loo,
cribbage, gresco, ombre, and lansquenet. The Duke sat down to primero,
"which," observed his Grace, "is my favourite game, as it had been with
Lord Strafford, when he held the high station in which I am at present
placed."

The younger part of the company, in the mean time, not to discompose the
gravity of the card-playing dowagers, retired apart to the great saloon,
where were stationed all the preliminary _accessoires_ proper and duly
prepared for the mysteries of the Eve of All-Hallows, in order to
commence the various spells, tricks, sports, and charms, which national
superstition and credulity have consecrated, and hoary tradition handed
down from age to age as the records of popular faith.

"_Allons nous_," said Lady Lucy, playfully, "_allons mes enfants_!"

"Oh, for mercy's sake, dear Lucy," rejoined Lady Letitia, "pray let us
have no more of this outlandish gibberish; but I pray you let the young
folks at once begin their play, without preface or prologue."

"Thy design and intention, sweet sister of mine, displeaseth me not; for
be it known, that I also am fully possessed with a most marvellous
disposition, a wondrous curiosity for the commencement of the various
charms, or mysteries, or incantations of this memorable night, call
them by any name you think befitting; and here am I ready and willing to
be the lady mistress of the ceremonies to be done and performed--ay,
without the fee or reward of even plumb-cake or a single poesy! And now,
my merry maids all, for the full and complete execution of the important
duties attending my most consequential appointment, we shall soon
commence our ceremonies of office, and all the various charms of this
night of incantation." Then, with much sprightliness, she added, "But
where, oh, where is my wand? my wand--my kingdom for a wand! I can do
nothing with effect, unless armed with the insignia of my office."

A servant then came in, and presented a peeled wand or rod, which was
framed from a witch-hazel that had grown on the Tyraugh mountains, and
had been cut and stript of its bark at the express desire of old Cormac,
and was now assumed and wielded with all due and becoming authority.

"Yes, yes, this is _comme il faut_! this will do. Now I am the most
mysterious mistress of these enchanted revels, and this the wand of my
stately vocation! Young ladies fair, young lords so gay, hear ye, hear
ye all! In full plenitude, potency, and execution of this my office,
hear and obey the important injunctions which I have to premise to each
and to all of you--[this was expressed with much _gaieté du coeur_.]
Be it then known to you all _by these presents_, (as an old dotard once
upon a time began his will);--but I am not dead, yet my _will_ is this:
hear, hear ye all good people and true! and thus I do proclaim, amid all
our play and revels to-night, but without sound of trumpet or
kettle-drum, that there still remains a charm yet to be consummated, and
of such confessed potency too, that this night should not be passed over
without giving it a fair trial, and at once putting its efficacy to the
test! Having thus premised, it would be but foul play that my young
friends should _burst in ignorance_ as to the mode and nature of the
charm. _Eh! bien donc, mes chers enfants!_ you then must know, the fair
young lady who wishes to recognise her future spouse for life, is to
proceed at just this hour to a sequestered lime-kiln, bearing a charmed
ball of untwisted cotton thread, and strongly holding the cord, is to
fling the ball adown the cavern of the kiln; and upon its having reached
the bottom, stoutly to exclaim, 'Who holds the ball?' When this is duly
performed, the person who accomplishes it is to retire before midnight
to bed; a banquet must be spread, and a mirror in which her fortune
shall be read! Now, my gay and merry lasses all, where is to be found
that courageous one who dare do this?"

The young ladies all, as if by tacit consent, drew back, dissenting from
the proposal. But not so Lady Adelaide, who advanced: "That daring one
am I, and I accept your challenge;" seizing at the same time upon the
charmed ball of untwisted cotton which Lady Lucy then held in her hand,
and of which Lady Adelaide now became the possessor. "I hold now the
charm; it shall not perish until at least its efficacy be tried. But
remember I go alone!"

"Oh, my dearest, my best beloved Adelaide do not go!--I beseech you
that you do not go at this hour of night--at this season of the year!
storm and rain may overtake you, and cause you to lament the rashness of
your undertaking! In what I have said I wished to raise youthful
curiosity, but at the same time I likewise meant to intimidate, but not
to encourage the attempt!--Why will you go?"

"Because," rejoined Lady Adelaide, "from the very first I resolved that
I would undertake the execution of the charm; and no remonstrance, not
even force, shall compel me to relinquish my purpose; call it fate, call
it destiny; describe it as rashness; call it e'en what pleaseth thee; it
must--it shall be performed!"

"But," observed Lady Lucy, "should your absence be noticed what is then
to be done to account for it? What will the Duke say?--what will the
Duchess? And you will bring down the united raillery of all the loo,
tredrille, primero, and cribbage tables, upon your truant head for this
nocturnal adventure of romance!"

"Oh, tell the Duke and Duchess that as they know _the gods have made me
poetical_, that the fit of inspiration was upon me; and now or never! If
I were not to obey the impulse my precious verse would perish for ever!"

Adelaide then most sweetly smiling, said: "It boots not what remark may
come from the sober dowagers and solemn wig-pated personages at the loo
and ombre tables; they will be too much absorbed in their winnings and
tricks to think of me. And now I go!"

"Oh stay, I prithee, stay a moment!--just until I tell thee," said Lady
Lucy. "For before you go you must be told of what positively and fatally
happened in our own family to a kinswoman of mine own, a young lady,
upon the Eve of All-Hallows, who----"

"Not for the wide world," said Lady Adelaide, "would I hear another
word. If the story, my dear aunt, be amusing or horrific, I pray thee
tell it to my young friends, and then I shall have it told me when I
return. Now wave thy mystic wand, and like a spirit I vanish.--_Présto_
I'm gone!"

Adelaide departed. This young lady was indeed the child of romance, with
feelings the most tender and acute; and one who deeply had imbibed the
superstitions of the age in which she lived; all of which had chiefly
been instilled, even from the very cradle, by the old talkative crone,
her quondam nurse; and although possessing a strong understanding, yet
still, as the ever constant dropping of water will impress and penetrate
the hardest stone, in like manner the tales of superstition unceasingly
told, and the numerous attestations of popular faith, did not fail fully
to operate on her credulity.

Adelaide alone sallied forth from the ducal towers of Tyrconnel Castle,
with deep determination to fulfil the spell of the charmed ball. The
moon with pearly radiance shone forth on her fearless enterprise;
enthusiastic in this adventure as in every thing which she thought,
said, or did, she now boldly advanced to commence the solemn charm; and
with firm and unshaken step she proceeded to the accomplishment of her
nocturnal visit; while intently she looked around, fully to be assured
that no human eye gazed upon the orgies which she was about to perform.

Adelaide then with quickened step approached a lime-kiln. This fabric
had been for a lapse of time deserted and disused; its apex was crested
with saxifrage, snap-dragon, and foxglove, which told its desolation;
and the ivy too, in curling festoons suspended, overhung the passenger,
and undulated in the breeze. The autumnal gale in mournful gusts swept,
sighing in its course, over hill, and vale, and stream; while the owl
hooted her solitary scream as Adelaide reached this deserted pile, now
the lonely asylum of the nocturnal bat and wary field-mouse. The kiln
had been constructed at the angle of a green knoll, which served as an
ascent to it; and by this mount, or hill, Adelaide with facility
ascended to the empty crater of the lime-kiln; when duly turning her
face to the south she produced an untwisted ball of cotton thread, and
firmly holding the end of the cord, or thread, of the ball, she flung
the ball, as if a plummet, down the concavity of the kiln; when
sounding its depth she ascertained that it had duly reached the bottom,
then she undauntedly inquired in a loud and firm tone of voice--"Who
holds the ball?" The cotton cord on the instant dropped promptly from
her hand, whether by force or fear she knew not; while she thought she
heard a voice unknown ascending in hollow tones from the echoing depth
beneath, emphatically reply--"I grasp the ball!"

This might have been merely the effect of fear and mental deception, yet
still she thought she had heard the awful response. No shape, no form,
no figure, met her eye; but the words struck her ear and pierced her
heart. Adelaide stood motionless, silent, and pale, as a statue; she had
not the power to scream, articulation was totally suspended; and the
powers of locomotion too were completely paralized, her imagination
became spell-bound, her recollection was fled! At length nature
completely overpowered, she fainted; and it was not for some time that
she recovered the powers of animation, when all the solemn scene that
had so lately occurred appeared to her but as a frightful dream that
had passed in review before her deceived imagination while she slumbered
in that dreadful swoon.

For some considerable pause of time Adelaide sat motionless upon the
sward of the little knoll that adjoined that ominous fabric, where so
lately that awful charm, consecrated by the credulity of ages, had been
performed.

After much mental exertion Adelaide found upon trial that she had
sufficient bodily strength to arise; and now having stood up, she
proceeded upon her return to the castle. The moon had retired behind a
cloud, when, with a deep sigh, she exclaimed, "Oh, how much I wish that
the deed had remained undone, and then my mind would have been at rest!
But now I am sadly disquieted, and my heart is sick within me. Oh, it
was not well done!"

After a pause she continued--"But what will they all this while think of
me at the castle? How shall my absence be accounted for? Why--why do I
shudder thus in self-condemnation? This should not have been!"

Thus, in self-crimination, Adelaide vented her contrition, while with
trembling fear and step she slowly wended back her wearied way to
Tyrconnel Castle.

Still advancing, terror seemed every where to accompany her.

    "Horror ubique----simul ipsa silentia terrent!"

The distant murmurs of the Eske uniting with the ocean affrighted her,
as did her footsteps,--she thought them not her own; while ever and anon
she would stop to listen; but no sounds were heard but those of the
adjoining brook brawling[20] over its rocky channel, or the autumnal
gale rustling the fallen foliage as it swept its plaintive blast along.
At times when partially the wind reposed, and all, for the interval, was
in silence lulled, still her mind was not at rest; occasionally she
would stop, and seemed to meditate to herself; then would she rehearse
the ominous incantation at the kiln, she would raise up her right arm,
bend the hand, with thumb and fore-finger conjoined together; next
suddenly dip the arm and hand, as when she plumbed the charmed ball
adown the mystic concavity of the kiln. When having violently acted
this, she would utter a piercing scream, and then awaken from her
reverie.

    [20] "Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out upon the brook
    that _brawls_ along this wood."

    AS YOU LIKE IT.


As Adelaide was proceeding onward in her return to the castle, the sky
suddenly became deeply darkened, and a thunder-storm arose; the thunder
loudly re-echoed through the vaulted heavens, and the vivid
lightning-flash preceded each awful peal; then descended torrents of
rain, which fell with the plenitude and the force of a water-spout.

"Ah, if I had here a friend, a companion in this my hour of trial, I
then would slightly value the tempest that now surrounds me! But the
deed was all my own doing, and plaints now are of no avail. So unto the
castle with whatever remnant of strength or courage may remain.--This is
my only resource!"

All terrified, pale, and her garments deeply drenched with rain, at
length Adelaide regained the castle; where, when she had put on fresh
attire, forgetful of all the fears and perils which she had encountered,
(such and so great are the contradictions of human nature,) that she
fully, nevertheless, resolved to abide the full completion of the
mysterious charm.

The awful thunder-storm served as a well-timed explanation for the
deadly paleness of her countenance as the Lady Adelaide rejoined the
social circle. The juvenile party were employed in the various pastimes
of the night, in burning the boding nuts, while

    "Some lovingly in flames consume,
    Till wasting into embers grey."

Meantime others parted company, north and south, with the rapidity, if
not with the force, of a modern Congreve rocket. In others the spark
soon expired, while the gentle relict that was left behind, "like
Patience on a monument," kept stationary on her ordeal bar of trial,
tranquil and serene, until, in expiring embers she blazed, and was no
more! The melting of lead, and various other dainty devices followed.
All which were now succeeded by the grand finale of a ball, in which
minuets, cotillions, and contre-danses followed in course, and were
succeeded by a splendid supper.

The supper, which was superb and princely throughout, commenced and
ended with delight to all the guests. And while sipping the noble
beverage of the grape, pressed and brought from every generous clime,
the following erudite discussion upon presages, prophecies, and
predictions, occupied the grave and learned portion of the company:--

"Some presages," observed the Duke, "may certainly appear to have been
casual, and subsequently adapted to the occasion by the ingenuity of
others; but still there are others that appear supported by such a
connected mass of evidence, that they can be neither questioned nor
denied. Mariana, the famed historian of Spain, (A. D. 1453,) makes
mention, in speaking of the tragical end of Don Alvaro, Earl of Luna,
'that it had been foretold to Alvaro that his death would be at
Cadahalso, by which he supposed to be meant, a town he had of that
name, and therefore he never went thither; but Cadahalso, in Spanish,
means a _scaffold_,' (this prophecy thus 'paltered in a double
sense,') for upon the scaffold Alvaro suffered, and there concluded a
life eminent in glory."

"And you may recollect, my Lord," said the Duchess, "that George
Buchanan, the famed Scottish historian, relates the very remarkable
forewarning which James the Fourth of Scotland had in the church of St.
Michael, Linlithgow, from an old man of venerable aspect, and clad in
blue habiliments. This person forewarned the king from his proceeding in
his expedition against England, fore-telling to him that it would prove
his ruin. The queen also remonstrated with him against the project of
invasion, by acquainting him with the visions and frightful dreams which
she nightly encountered. But no warning could avert his destiny. And he
fell with a number of his nobility in the ever memorable field of
Flodden Sept. 9, 1513."

"There is," said the Duke, "another case in point; it is that of Walter
Devereux, Earl of Essex, who foretold that his son, Robert Devereux,
afterwards Earl of Essex, should never survive his thirty-sixth year;
observing at the same time that his father had died at that period of
life, and that he would himself die at that age. The death of his son,
Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, who was beheaded in the thirty-fourth
year of his age, 1567, is a well known and recorded fact."

Here the Duchess rejoined:--"And you may recollect too, my dear Lord,
that Mezeray, the historian of France, records, that it had been
foretold to Henry the Fourth of France and Navarre, that he should die
in a coach; so that upon the least jolt he would cry out, as if he
beheld the grave opened ready to swallow him. And it is as well known
that this prediction took place, Henry the Fourth having been
assassinated in his coach as he was proceeding to the arsenal to consult
with the immortal Sully, when he was stabbed by the knife of an
assassin, 1610."

"Sully too," rejoined Lady Lucy, "in his admirable memoirs, makes
mention of those black presages which, it is but too certain, this
unfortunate prince had of his cruel destiny; they were indeed dreadful
and surprising to the last degree!"

Lady Adelaide next paid a short tribute to this learned and mystical
investigation:--"It may not be amiss," she said, "briefly to notice the
prediction of the death of the Duke of Buckingham, as related by Lord
Clarendon in his history, _and built_, as he emphatically expresses it,
_upon better foundations of credit than usually such discourses are
founded_.--His account is strikingly remarkable; but to recount the
accompanying circumstances would occupy too much time, and seriously
intrude on the pleasantry of the company by entering into the awful and
appalling detail; I must beg, therefore, to refer those friends who may
be desirous to gratify their curiosity on this subject to consult the
pages of the noble historiographer. The presages of our poet Dryden are
deserving of notice, he was extremely addicted to judicial astrology:
upon the birth of his son he took his horoscope, and all his
calculations respecting him marvellously were accomplished; and which
are too recent in the recollection of those present to render it
necessary for me to dwell upon; only to observe, that these astrological
calculations were fulfilled with an accuracy almost amounting to
mathematical correctness."

It came next to Sir Patricius Placebo's turn to contribute to these
ghostly recollections, who began with a stately hem. "I rather think I
can notify to this noble company a very remarkable circumstance, and I
flatter myself indeed it is one not generally known. It is recorded in
the life of the very erudite and estimable scholar, John H. Hottinger,
that when he ascended the pulpit of the academy of Basle to make _a
farewell oration_ to that society previous to his departure for the city
of Leyden, where he had been appointed Professor of the Oriental
Languages at the College of Leyden, he observed a line written upon it,
which much disturbed him, and surprised the whole auditory, as being
prophetical of his death, which happened soon after. The line was from
Ovid:--

    '_Carmina jam moriens, canit exequialia cygnus._'

    'The dying swan his fun'ral song doth sing.'

Shortly after this the very learned and accomplished scholar was drowned
with part of his family in the river Lemit, in the year 1667. The due
application of this celebrated line, and the analogy of the water-bird
fore-telling the time and manner of his death--hem!

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

Yes, doubtless, there is much grave matter for deep reflection in
this well-authenticated event."

Lord Glandarah prepared to yield his contribution to the strange topic
under discussion. His Lordship had resided nearly all his life upon the
continent; he was a Roman Catholic, and this, it was believed, was the
disposing reason for his living abroad. He spoke broken English so like
a foreigner, that he might have been almost mistaken for one, as has
been already observed in a previous chapter. "Gad save my soul, my Lady
Duchess, I do remember one of a very remarkable occurrence that happened
some few years ago when I was travelling through Normandy. My Lord
Roscommon, being then a boy of ten years of age, had preternatural
intelligence of his father's death. Gad save my soul, it is the very
most extraordinary circumstance to be sure! Your Grace must know that it
happened at Caen: one day his Lordship was, as it were, madly
extravagant in playing, leaping, getting over the tables, and playing,
Gad save my soul! many other wild gambols. He was, _sans doubtè_, wont
to be sober, staid, lad enough. Those who saw him exclaimed, 'heaven
grant this bodes no ill-luck to him!' In the heat of this extravagant
fit he suddenly cried out, 'My father is dead!' And _assuremènt_, Gad
save my soul! a fortnight after accounts arrived from Ireland that the
Earl of Roscommon was dead! This account was told me, Gad save my soul,
by Mr. Knolles, who had been his governor, and at that time with him.
And, Gad save my soul! I have often heard my Lord Roscommon's relations
affirm this account to be true. Now, Gad save my soul! could any thing
be more extraordinary? _Sans doute c'est impossible!_"

The hour was indeed very late; and the guests arose, and making due
obeisance, withdrew. Adelaide, according to the good old fashion,
embraced her parents, and retired to her chamber. But she had no sooner
lain down to rest than she heartily repented of what she had done. The
tempest continued with unabated rage; so much so indeed that the guests
departed not from the Castle, but there found a safe retreat from "the
pelting of the pitiless storm." The storm still continued to increase;
the roaring waves of the Atlantic thundered against the shore, and burst
upon the firm foundations of Tyrconnel Castle.

Adelaide's chamber was ever and anon illuminated with brilliant flashes
of vivid lightning; and often did she wish the mysterious deed undone!

    ---- ---- ----"Oh,
    Between the acting of a dreadful thing
    And the first motion, all the interim is
    Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream!"

But what Adelaide saw upon that awful night ever remained untold.--She
could never be prevailed upon to divulge the tremendous and frightful
circumstances of that eventful night. The next morning, as it afterwards
appeared, she complained of being very unwell, and kept her bed for some
days. The blame was very discreetly thrown upon her having eaten too
many nuts--having danced too much; and, moreover, supper having
disagreed with her; besides a variety of _et cetera_ explanations. It
was a long period before Adelaide resumed her usual serenity and gaiety
of temper; and whenever her friends or acquaintance would interrogate
her upon the adventures of that memorable night, she would assume much
reserve, and seemed displeased: this the only occasion, it was by all
remarked, that she had ever been observed to have appeared displeased
since they first had the happiness to be acquainted with her.

The unwarrantable practice of inquiring into futurity prevailed very
generally at and before the period which we write of; and most strange
to say, at times the sacred volume of the Scriptures,[21] and at others
the poems of Virgil and Homer, were consulted for oracular purposes. The
_sortes Prenestinæ_, _sortes Homerianæ_, and _sortes Virgilianæ_, which
were modes of inquiring into the secrets of futurity, are well known to
the classic reader. A remarkable instance of the trial of this latter
sortilege occurred to King Charles I. when at the city of Oxford, during
the civil wars. Going one day to inspect the Boedlian Library, His
Majesty was shown, along with other volumes, an early copy of Virgil,
beautifully printed and exquisitely bound. Lord Falkland, to amuse the
King, insisted upon His Majesty's trying his fortune by the _sortes
Virgilianæ_; whereupon the King, opening the volume, hit upon the fourth
Æneid, line 615, which much disconcerted him.

    [21] Even so recently as during Wesley's time [See Southey's Life
    of Wesley] will be perceived the fondness of this celebrated
    preacher for divination by lot, and by the casual opening of the
    Bible, expecting thereby the peculiar and immediate guidance of
    the Almighty!

The passage is prophetic of the fortunes of Æneas, and, _mutato nomine_,
it was applicable to the royal martyr.[22]

    [22] For the gratification of the curious we here subjoin the
    quotation from Virgil, with which is given a translation of the
    remarkable lines by Dryden:--

    "At bello audacis populi, vexatus et armis
    Finibus extorris, complexu avulsus Juli,
    Auxilium imploret; videatque indigna suorum
    Funera: nec quum se sub leges pacis iniquæ
    Tradiderit, regno aut optatâ luce fruatur:
    Sed cadat ante diem, mediâque inhumatus arenâ."

    VIRGIL Æ. IV. 1. 615.

    "Yet shall a race untamed, and haughty foes,
    His peaceful entrance with dire arms oppose:
    Oppress'd with numbers in th' unequal field,
    His men discouraged, and himself expell'd,
    Let him for succour sue from place to place,
    Torn from his subjects and his son's embrace.
    First let him see his friends in battle slain,
    And their untimely fate lament in vain:
    And when at length the cruel war shall cease,
    On hard conditions may he buy his peace:
    Nor let him then enjoy supreme command,
    But fall untimely by some hostile hand,
    And lie unburied on the barren strand."

Lord Falkland, upon observing that the King was discomposed, resolved to
try his own fortune in the same manner, hoping that perchance he might
alight on some sentence that would bear no relation to his own, and
thereby turn aside the thoughts of the King from any impression the
lines might have occasioned. However, the subject of the passage upon
which he unluckily stumbled was fully as unpropitious and as applicable
as that upon which his sovereign had alighted. It was the lamentation of
Evander for the untimely death of his son, in the 11th Æneid. It is well
known that the eldest son of this nobleman, a young man of amiable
character, had been previously slain in the first battle of Newburg.

It is recorded of the famous and excellent sculptor Giovanni Lorenzi
Bernini, that upon his beholding a painting by Vandyke, which presents
three portraits of King Charles I. on the same canvass--the one a front
face, the other a half side, and the third a profile--the artist
observed: "whoever the individual be whose likeness these three
portraits represent, I am of opinion that the same will come to an
untimely end."

This painting had been expressly taken and forwarded to Rome, in order
that Bernini might, from the resemblance, sculpture a marble bust of the
King, which accordingly he did; and King Charles, the greatest and best
patron of the fine arts that England can boast of, was so much pleased
with the performance, that he sent Bernini a ring of very great value;
and said to the person who was deputed to bring it: "_Andate a coronar
quello mano, che ha fatto si bel lavorno_."[23]

    [23] Le Vite de Piu celebri Architecti, &c.--_Pagina 358, Roma
    1768._

All attempts to inquire into and penetrate the secrets of futurity are
highly to be condemned, as they are nothing less than tempting the
Almighty; it is not for frail man to anticipate the ways of Providence,
and discover these events that heaven always in its wisdom, and often in
its mercy, withholds from mortal eyes. But it is indeed full time to
close (as we apprehend we have trespassed too long on our reader's
forbearance)

    ----"The day to superstition dear,

    *       *       *       *       *

    Hallow'd and reverenc'd in the olden time,
    Sacred to every saint of every clime."




CHAPTER IX.

    ----Think ye see
    The very persons of our noble story
    As they were living; think ye see them great,
    And follow'd with the general throng.

    PROLOGUE TO K. HENRY VIII.


The celebration of the birth-day of the Lady Adelaide passed over as we
have described in the preceding chapter, and our lovely heroine was now
quite recovered from whatever cause it might have been which had so
disturbed and agitated her upon that eventful and recorded night. The
Duke and Duchess, according to their previous determination, towards the
close of November set off with their suite on their route for Dublin
Castle; for the time was now fast approaching when in great pomp and
state the Viceroy-Duke was to open the sessions of the Irish parliament.

Their Graces travelled by short stages on account of the abridgment of
the days, and arrived in about four days in perfect health and safety at
the vice-royal palace; no incident, occurrence, or even pleasantry,
happening, that could possibly amuse the story-loving reader, or
important enough to be handed down to posterity in savoury remembrance.

At this epoch of the Irish history the parliament met only once in two
years; and a member of the lower house, the House of Commons, then held
his seat for life, or at least certainly during the period of the life
of the reigning sovereign, upon whose demise alone a new parliament was
to be called. What then had a member thus chosen under these
circumstances to apprehend or fear from the resentment of his
constituents? Nothing!--certainly nothing! The member was virtually
placed beyond their control, beyond their remonstrance, and above their
resentment; while his hopes and expectations of reward from a minister
for services done, or to be performed, were reasonably great, and held
forth attractive bait to corruption. The representative would, or might,
oppose the measures of a good minister, in order that his services might
be brought into action, and duly paid for upon the performance thereof;
and it would be equally his interest, upon the same corrupt _data_, to
sell himself to a bad and profligate minister for prompt payment! But
both these alternatives were fraught with evils to the constituents; and
against these evils they had, they could have, no control! The minister
too could indeed well afford to bid high and imposing terms, when the
purchase was for life. Thus, although a small portion of virtue might
resist a small portion of temptation, nevertheless that resistance would
become weaker as time advanced, in an increased ratio; and, moreover, as
a long duration and manifold opportunities were given for the temptation
and the tempter, which could not, by possibility, be the case if
parliaments, instead of being for the life of the sovereign,[24] and
meeting only once in every two years, were to have met annually, and the
conduct of the representative were placed under the eye and the control
of their constituents. And assuredly it must strike the good sense of
the reader that the prolongation of the term of parliament weakens the
security of the people, for whose benefit parliaments were constituted;
and that nothing can make it safe to repose so great a trust in any body
of men, as the constitutive body delegates to its representative, but
the shortness of the term for which such delegation is made.

    [24] It was not, however, until the year 1768, during the
    administration of Lord Townsend, that the royal assent was given
    to an act for limiting the duration of parliament to eight years.

It appears, from consulting the page of history, that England was one of
the first countries in which the representatives of boroughs were
admitted into the great council of the nation; for until the year A. D.
1265, it was a privilege unknown and unclaimed.

The cause of calling the burgesses to the great council, or parliament
of the nation, (according to Dr. Robertson, in his "View of the State of
Europe,") was "in order to add greater popularity to the party of the
barons that had armed against Henry the Third, and to strengthen the
barrier against the encroachments of regal power."

But, alas! how fatally has the converse of the intention of our wise
progenitors been established! From lapse of time, ministerial influence,
the pecuniary embarrassments of the nobles and proprietors of boroughs,
and the all powerful lever of corruption, the boroughs have changed
masters. Those boroughs that were erected as mounds and ramparts against
the powerful influence of the crown, have many of them been purchased by
the crown, and now powerfully preponderating to the opposite scale, have
increased, in a formidable degree, the royal influence and prerogative
which they were created to check; and have but too effectually magnified
the evils which they were formed to repress!

The day for the assembling of parliament had now arrived, and the
Viceroy-Duke proceeded in great pomp and state to the House of Lords to
open the session. The cap of maintenance was borne by Lord
Mount-Leinster, and the sword of state by the Lord Glandarah. His Grace
was seated in the superb antique state-coach, which was lined with
crimson velvet, and trimmed with gold lace; the exterior was richly and
magnificently adorned; the pannels had been painted by a celebrated
Venetian artist, and the subjects were chosen from the heathen
mythology. The state-carriage was drawn by eight beautiful black horses,
with long flowing tails, and right nobly caparisoned; they were a
present from His gracious Majesty James the Second. The harness and all
the _accessoirès_ were in unison in their magnificence. Six
state-carriages and four preceded that which bore the Duke of Tyrconnel;
and the state-carriage was surrounded by the battle-axe guards. The
streets were lined with soldiery, and no demonstration of respect was
wanting as the noble Duke proceeded to the House of Peers. We need not
tell that his Grace wore the robes of the order of the garter, nor dwell
upon the brilliancy of the diamond star which glittered upon his breast,
nor upon his fine appearance; for the Duke was justly accounted by far
the handsomest man of the age in which he flourished. With great and
unaffected dignity he entered the House of Peers, the trumpets, &c. all
pealing forth the _now_ national anthem of "God save the King," which no
former monarch or viceroy had ever received, as it was composed
expressly for James II. Meanwhile the long and continued peal of cannon
told to all that the noble viceroy was seated upon the throne.[25] We
mean not to harass our kind reader to actual death by giving him, in
_totidem verbis_, the speech of his Grace, but we will however venture
to record, for historical remembrance, the mode _entrè_:--The Duke of
Tyrconnel enters the House of Peers, the Earl of Mount-Leinster bearing
the cap of maintenance; the Lord Glandarah carrying the sword of state;
the train being supported by Sir Richard Talbot. His Grace made his
_congès_ to the cloth of state; then taketh his seat on the throne under
the canopy, the Secretary of State standing at his right hand. The Lord
Chancellor then proceeds to his stall on the Lord Lieutenant's right
hand, and acquaints the Lords that it is the Lord Lieutenant's pleasure
that their Lordships should be covered. Next, the Lord Chancellor,
kneeling, receiveth a direction from the Lord Lieutenant; and thereupon
standing up again wills the Gentleman-Usher of the black-rod to acquaint
the House of Commons that it is the Lord Lieutenant's pleasure that they
should attend his Grace. When the speech contained the following
items:--'Thanks to the House of Peers for their loyal devotion so often
manifested for the honour of the crown, and so forth; their unshaken
loyalty, &c. to the king's person and government. Thanks followed to
the House of Commons for the necessary provisions for the services of
the ensuing year so cheerfully made, &c. Then followed a general appeal
to both houses, entreating them that when they returned to their
respective counties to use their utmost endeavours to inculcate and
bring to bear the same loyalty and affection by them so often and
efficiently demonstrated.' The Duke concluded his speech in these
emphatic terms:--"And I cannot conclude, my lords and gentlemen, without
the hope that you will permit no apprehensions of grievances or
causeless jealousies to interrupt that tranquillity and social order,
and obedience to the laws, which constitute the fountain of all
political happiness--the source and the support of industry,
agriculture, commerce, and all national amelioration, which has been
ever the unvaried pursuit of the best of kings. And I shall not fail to
represent to my royal master your dutiful devotion; and the only reward
which I look to, is your free and unbiassed approbation!"

    [25] At this point of time the Irish House of Lords met at the
    hour of three o'clock in the afternoon; but when the house was
    engaged in the hearing of appeals they regularly assembled at the
    hour of nine o'clock in the morning.

His Grace upon quitting the throne was dutifully received by the house
uncovering, and rising from their seats. An address was then moved as an
echo of the speech, by the Earl of Clanrickarde, and was seconded by the
Viscount Kilmallock; which passed the noble house, _nemine
contradicente_. In the lower house the address was moved by Mr. Murtagh
Magennis of Balligorionbeg, and seconded by Mr. James Lally of
Tallendaly, and passed the house unanimously.

Leave was granted for an act to be brought into the house, entitled,
"The Tithe Agistment Bill," which was read next day the first time, and
after a few days a second time; and a day was appointed for the third
reading. When that day had arrived Lord Glandarah, who was in the
robing-room, observed a strong muster of bishops; and upon entering the
house he whispered a friend--"I clearly perceive, Gad save my soul! that
we shall have a very angry political debate to-day, for I left my lords
the bishops duly caparisoning them-selves in their celestial armour!"

Some altercation took place in the robing-chamber between Lord
Mount-Leinster and Bishop Rocket, between whom there existed a private
pique.

"I see, my Lord Bishop, that charity covers a multitude of----Hem! I
mean, my Lord, that I verily saw your Lordship giving alms to the amount
of----one shilling just now as I arrived in the house!"

"Yes, my Lord Mount-Leinster, I deny it not: and I perceived that your
Lordship followed on the instant so excellent an example; for, from the
cogency of the case, you too were forced to pay twice the sum! Ha, ha,
ha!--_two_ shillings into the poor's box."

All which being _translated_, (no offence to Bishop Rocket,) signifies
that the Bishop and the Earl were both late in their arrival in the
House of Peers, and they had accordingly to pay the penalty for arriving
in the house "beyond a quarter of an hour after prayers had been
read"--_secundum regulam_.[26]

    [26] "Every Lord that comes not within a quarter of an hour after
    prayers, if he be a Bishop or Baron, he, is to pay one shilling,
    and if he be any degree above, two shillings to the poor man's
    box."--_Standing Orders of the Irish House of Lords_, p. 13.
    Printed by Sleater, Dublin, 1778. The title of the work was,
    "Rules and Orders to be observed in the Upper House of Parliament
    of Ireland."--The Clerk of the House was treasurer of the poor's
    box.--p. 39.

The clerk read aloud at the table, "_Hodie, tertia vice lecta est
billa._" This act was "the Tithe Agistment Bill," entitled, "An act to
quiet and bar all claims of tithe agistment for dry and barren cattle."

When an angry debate ensued, Bishop Rocket arose with much warmth, and
contended "that it was an act tending most forcibly to wrest the rights
and privileges of the Church, to the great detriment of the hierarchy,
and the all unalienable properties and immunities of their lawful
successors; and forcibly militating against the welfare, property, and
prosperity, of the Church and State, as then by the laws of the land
established and in force."

Lord Mount-Leinster arose: "My Lords, this is a bill which I would call
as one of the most pacificatory nature, and tending to repress the
grievous mode in which tithes are generally collected from the
population of this country, who have, if they are of the Catholic
persuasion, to pay two pastors; and I will moreover, my Lords, be bold
to say, that no school-boy, studying his _as in presenti_, could be so
stupidly credulous as to give credence to the monstrous assertion of the
Right Reverend Lord, or for a moment believe that posthumous piety to
his successors can or could be the predominating cause of the vote given
this night by the Right Reverend Prelate."--[_Hear, hear, hear._]

With the most violent indignation Bishop Rocket arose: "Lord
Mount-Leinster, but for these black rags," shaking indignantly his
sacerdotal robes; "look ye, but for these black rags, I would fight
you!"--[Here numerous cries were heard of "_Order, order,
order_"--"_Chair, chair, chair!_"]

Sir Patricius Placebo and Mr. Berenger were stationed at the bar of the
house, and the risible muscles of the Baronet were incontinently put
into play, which had been _certes_ audible, but for the noise and
uproar in the house. Laughingly, he whispered Mr. Berenger, "Room, room,
my Lords and Nobles all; I cry make room for the incensed worthies!

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!"

He then laughed immoderately, and took snuff at a surprising rate from
his King Carolus' snuff-box. "Yes, yes, Mr. Berenger," he added, "ha,
ha,

    'Fools will talk, and fools will prate,
    Nor silence keep at any gait.'

For, Sir, you know,

    'Πάντες οἱ μωροὶ μαίνονται.'[27]

    [27] "All fools are mad."

That is at least according to the doctrine of the stoics."

The gallant, gay Mr. Berenger so politely smiled ever and anon, that it
nearly amounted to a laugh. But this had been interdicted at the court
where he too often had

    ----"listened,
    When the last Charles's beauties glistened
    In splendid robes of gaudy vice,
    And could with syren songs entice."

However the question, upon being put, was resolved in the negative, by
the motion that the bill should be read that day six months! The
Chancellor could make no peace between the enraged combatants, who
adjourned to the robing-room, when this scene of altercation took
place:--

Lord Mount-Leinster, addressing Bishop Rocket, emphatically said: "My
Lord Bishop, you are now unharnessing yourself from that celestial
panoply or armour in which you flourished in the House of Peers, and
which, I must observe, you somewhat unseemingly, if not indecorously,
called your "black rags,"

    "Tutius est igitur fictis contendere verbis,
    Quam pugnare manu."

I have ever been, my Lord--mark me--a gallant swordsman; nor would I
brook an affront from a king. Let not then your sacerdotal robes, or,
as you were pleased in mirth to call them, your "black rags," let them
not, I say, prove your peace-makers in this gross breach of decorum. I
must observe, that, according to the spirit and strict laws of the
_Duello_, or single combat, the ceremonies thereunto affixed and
appertaining, connected and deducible from chivalry, are duly and
implicitly laid down by the celebrated Caranza,[28] the oracle of
duelling, and the no less sage and famous Master Selden, in his very
learned and unimpeachable treatise upon the laws of the _Duello_; and in
good sooth my very grave and reverend Lord Coke has it as a _punctum_ in
his Institutes, 'that in these matters, where the person possessing a
right, or sustaining a grievance, could not act, on account of
professional or personal disability, or perform the service required in
person, he was then to name a sufficient person for his deputy!' Now, my
Lord Bishop, I must needs observe, that I think that this was truly a
marvellous right praiseworthy custom, that when any grave and reverend
personage, willing to give satisfaction, as you profess, finds himself
impeded by his reverend skirts tripping up the laws of the _Duello_,
from being, for sad ensample, a son or dignitary of the Church, and so
forth, that upon such occasions their _next_ and _nearest of kin_ should
take up the gauntlet: and such a proxy, my Lord Bishop, I now claim from
you to enter the lists with me, as becomes your true knight and
representative!"

    [28] The celebrated Caranza was, in sooth, the oracle and manual
    of duelling in his day. He was by birth a Spaniard; his name
    Geronimo Caranza. His famous work was entitled, "_Verdera Destreza
    de las Armas_"--"The true Dexterity or Skill in Arms." His talents
    are thus eulogized in the comedy of "_Los Locos de Valencia_," of
    Lope de Vega:--

    ----"El gran Caranza,
    A quien las armas en Espana deben
    Quanta mayor destreza el arte alcanza."

BISHOP ROCKET.--"Know then, Lord Mount-Leinster, that I shall send my
sedan chairmen to fight you!!"

"A precious boon, and peerless proxies, I needs must say, my Lord
Bishop, thou hast chosen!!! In sooth I oft have heard of knights of the
lance and eke of the bucket,[29] but never until now heard of knights of
the pole! But although, from your Lordship's reply, it appears that your
_next_ and _nearest_ of kin happen to be your sedan-chairmen!! my own
dignity prevents me having any further parley with you, much less
contact with _your kindred_!" And then Lord Mount-Leinster, wheeling
around, made his exit from the robing-room, flinging a rapid and most
contemptuous look at the discomfitted bishop.

    [29] This slily alludes to the _Secchia Rapita_, ("The Rape of the
    Bucket,") a burlesque poem, by Tassoni.

All peers and prelates, much diverted at the result, now withdrew.
_Solventur risu curiæ._ The enemies of Bishop Rocket (who had certainly
sprung from a low origin) insisted that his two sedan chairmen were his
own proper kinsmen, and, moreover, bore his name. His friends did not
deny the charge; but said, in extenuation, that "after all this was no
wondrous thing, as the Maréschal de Richelieu, when at Vienna, had
purchased baronies for his two _portéurs de chaise_; and when some
ladies of fashion boasted that they had in their kitchen several French
Marquises, 'I believe it,' replied the Maréschal, 'for my sedan chair is
supported by a brace of German barons!'"

The eulogists of Lord Mount-Leinster loudly lauded him for the
chivalrous spirit which he had manifested in this _rencontre_ with the
Church, which they considered and maintained as in no wise inferior to
the adventure of the redoubted knight _de la Mancha_, when he
encountered the windmill, and whose valour it was confessed was only to
be paralleled with his discretion!




CHAPTER X.

    Times have their changes; sorrows make us wise:
    The sun itself must set as well as rise!

    PERKIN WARBECK.


While matters were going forward in Ireland as we have endeavoured to
describe them in the preceding chapters, the tide, meanwhile, of
political occurrences in England arose to a tempestuous and
uncontrollable flood, that was wholly unexpected by Tyrconnel, and quite
unapprehended by his royal master. To England, therefore, we now must
trace our steps.

The various unpopular and arbitrary acts of King James the Second
paralyzed those loyal effusions that burst forth when he ascended the
royal throne of the Stuarts. The acquittal of the seven bishops who had
been arbitrarily imprisoned in the tower still further increased the
king's unpopularity. The confiscation too of property which followed,
and the attainder of many loyal Protestants, soon swelled high the
torrent that shortly was to burst against the abutments of his throne,
and destroy that prerogative of power which he had so unjustly and so
unconstitutionally assumed. Many now doubted the justness of the
appellation of "James the Just," which had been awarded him shortly
subsequent to his having been proclaimed king. Indeed his going publicly
to mass two days consequent to his succession to the crown, at the time
gave surprise and offence to the nation. Some events too occurred in
those superstitious days, that in the present times would be slightly
passed over, but which, albeit, were certainly considered as ill omens
in that age. At the solemnity of the coronation, the crown not being
properly fitted for the royal head, was often observed in a tottering
condition, and likely to fall off. Mr. Henry Sidney supported it once
with his hand, and pleasantly told the king,[30] that "this was not the
first time that his family had supported the crown." "In one of the
churches in London, the king's arms, stained on a glass window, suddenly
fell down and broke in pieces, while the rest remained standing, without
a possibility of discovery why that part should fall down sooner than
the rest. The canopy also, which had been borne over his head at the
coronation, did break."[31]

    [30] Rapin's History of England, vol. II. pages 742, 743, and
    Note.

    [31] Ibid.--pages 742, 743, 771.

James II. espoused the Princess Maria d'Este, the sister of Francis Duke
of Modena, who was as beautiful as she was unfortunate. The queen had
been married some time without presenting her royal consort with a
child. When this event did take place, malice, falsehood, envy, and
intrigue, were not slow in pronouncing that the heir apparent thus born
was a "suppositious Prince of Wales." Then followed the ridiculous
episodes of the "sham conception," and "the warming-pan," which were all
a tissue of forgery and falsehood, still further intended to diminish
the king's decreasing popularity, and bring his person and throne into
disrepute. But upon the whole mass and evidence of history that is
presented, the only conclusion to be drawn was this, and only this--that
the Prince of Wales, so far from being suppositious, was royally and
legally born, the royal and lawful successor to his father's throne and
realms.

In consequence of all these combining unpopular results, a resolution
was taken by many of the disappointed, disaffected nobility and gentry,
of calling in the Prince of Orange of Nassau to ascend the throne of
Britain. And in pursuance of this determination several noblemen and
gentlemen were secretly deputed to go over to the prince, and invite him
to assume the sceptre of England. To these invitations the prince fully
acceded, and firmly determined to head the party. It need not be told
the reader that the Prince of Orange was the son-in-law of King James,
having espoused his daughter, the Princess Mary. The intriguing party
used all their endeavours to prevent the secret of their project from
being divulged. In this matter the Earl of Sunderland basely betrayed
his royal master. Meanwhile King James remained wholly incredulous to
the belief of the existence of these political machinations; and
although he was advised thereto by Mr. Skelton, his Majesty's Envoy at
the Hague, "that a great project was secretly carrying on against him,"
yet was this incredulous sovereign so sure of success, that he quite
neglected this intelligence, conceiving that it was only an artifice to
divert him from his designs; and he, therefore, to all such reports
closed an unwilling and unbelieving ear.

Numbers of the English nobility and gentry now addressed the Prince of
Orange to deliver them from that oppression under which they bent. And
in reply to a long _memoirè_ presented to the prince, he published two
manifestoes, declaratory of, and justifying his descent upon England,
which were accompanied by his embarkation from the states of Holland,
and shortly followed by his arrival in England, where by numbers his
Highness was warmly received. Many personages of high rank declared to
him their support; and furthermore, several regiments of the army of
King James joined the standard of the Prince of Orange.

At length the landing of the prince, and the cordial reception with
which he met withal, awoke the royal and too incredulous James from his
trance, and he now finally resolved upon the measure of flying from his
discontented subjects, whom he considered had betrayed him by thus
calling in a foreigner to assume the sovereignty; and he forth-with
determined to sail with what expedition he might from the shores of
England, and put himself at once under the protection of the King of
France.

However, previous to the flight of the unhappy James from his throne and
realm of fair England, he resolved in the first instance to provide for
the escape of his queen consort, and his son, the infant Prince of
Wales. King James was so surrounded by spies and informers, that the
very greatest circumspection was absolutely necessary to shun the
hundred eyes of Argus which environed him; for, as but too often is the
unhappy case with kings, that almost literally he knew not whom to
trust. While flatterers and sycophants surround and blockade a throne,
it must not be expected that truth, sincerity, or friendship, can there
be found;--no! they are quite unknown within the stately precincts of a
court! But still there was one found, and one worthy of the royal
trust--the Count de Lauzun, a noble, brave, and generous Frenchman; and
to this nobleman the king intrusted his queen and infant son, to assist
them in conducting them in safety to France, aloof from all the enemies
of the royal James.

The plan of proceeding, and all the consecutive details, were
accordingly secretly arranged, and the greatest and most scrupulous care
and caution were duly taken to keep these determinations a profound
secret, lest the flight of the queen and infant prince being known or
suspected, the measure might be wholly frustrated by the intervention of
the emissaries of the Prince of Orange.

The solemn hour of midnight was selected as the safest time for the
flight of the royal fugitives. The young prince, to escape suspicion,
was placed in bed at his accustomed hour; and shortly after the king and
queen, having duly dismissed all their attendants, retired seemingly to
repose, but not to rest!

When the eyes of all in the palace were closed, save the waking,
watching, unwearied eye-lids of the royal sufferers, the king and queen
arose from their couch, and cautiously opened the private door leading
to the royal closet, where in readiness awaited the noble and faithful
Count de Lauzun. The queen raised the infant prince from his cradle,
wrapped him in a swathe of flannel to keep the infant warm; indeed no
unnecessary precaution, for cold and bitter was the winter weather in
which the royal child was thus in silent secrecy of night taken away
from the princely hall of his royal progenitors.

King James affectionately embraced them both, as sad and sorrowful he
bade them a mournful farewell; and wept most bitterly at this parting
scene, in which affliction his royal consort fully participated. His
Majesty then intrusted them both to the loyal charge of the noble and
faithful count, who taking the royal infant under one arm, while he
assisted the queen with the other, they set forth from the palace to
pursue their perilous and melancholy journey.

Stormy and tempestuous was the night, the wind blew with violence, and
rain impetuously descended in torrents. They now approached the banks of
the Thames, in order to procure a boat to cross over to Lambeth. At this
point of time Count de Lauzun had previously engaged a boat to be ready
in attendance, thence to escape down the river to Gravesend, to come up
with the vessel which he had hired, and there awaited to convey them to
France. But unluckily it happened that so pitchy dark and stormy was the
night, the boat, when hailed, was not to be found. In total despair for
some moments he remained; but again, more loud and stoutly once more he
hailed the boat: the signal was heard, and obeyed. They descended down
the Whitehall stairs and embarked; and finding a great swell in the
river the count resolved not to proceed by water to Gravesend, but to
land at Lambeth, and thence proceed by land. They arrived in safety at
the Lambeth stairs, and landed, when the count surrendered to the queen
the royal charge to hold, while he went forth to obtain a coach from the
nearest adjoining inn.

Meanwhile the hapless queen--queen of the greatest realm in Europe,
arrayed in disguised habiliments, stood trembling under the shelter of
the ruined walls of a church, shivering in the blast, and dripping with
rain, wistfully listening to every sound, and piteously raising her eyes
to heaven. Oh, what a fearful lesson was here! a few days ago she might
have proclaimed to all the world--"This is my throne, let kings come bow
to it!" And this awful night she might envy the poorest cottier in her
dominions. However, after long suspense, suffering, and delay, the
count returned, having procured a carriage; and he lost no time in
placing the trembling queen and shivering infant in the vehicle.

Without any accident whatever the royal fugitives reached Gravesend in
perfect safety. Here, trembling with fear, and nearly overpowered by
sorrow, the queen alighted on the quay, where the boat, (which was an
open one,) belonging to the brig destined for Calais, awaited their
coming. The count, without a moment's delay, placed the queen and prince
in the boat, and flinging around them the boatman's cloak, he sat down
by them, and bade him to row on. He told the boatman that the persons he
bore away were his wife and child; and thus no suspicions were awakened
in the mind of the boatman of the great personages he thus bore off amid
the shades of night.

    "Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark,
    Wherever blows the welcome wind;
    It cannot lead to scenes more dark,
    More sad, than those we leave behind!"

By the morning tide they had reached, without molestation, a small brig
destined for France. To the captain the count also pretended that the
queen and prince were his own wife and child; he bargained for the
voyage, and the contract was agreed to. But the vessel was no sooner
under weigh, when how great their surprise, and how proportionate must
have been their apprehensions and alarm, while they beheld the whole of
the English fleet stationed at the mouth of the Thames, to examine all
vessels, and prevent their escape. But fortunately the vessel was so
small that, being unsuspected, she was permitted with impunity to pass
the admiral of the fleet, in no wise suspecting that her hull contained
such very distinguished personages on board, so no examination took
place. The vessel sailed on unmolested; and that very night the Count de
Lauzun had the happiness of safely landing the royal sufferers on the
pier of Calais. From thence they proceeded to Versailles, where her
Majesty and infant prince were received by Louis the Fourteenth with
great marks of affection and of the highest respect, which afforded some
consolation to the queen under her melancholy reverse of fortune.

Meanwhile King James suffered great and intense anxiety concerning the
fate of his unhappy queen and infant prince.

His Majesty now fully determined to follow the queen, and waited but one
day to execute his design.[32] The following night, in a plain suit, and
a bob-wig, he took water at Whitehall,[33] accompanied only by Sir
Edward Hales, Mr. Sheldon, and Abbadie, a Frenchman, and a page of the
back-stairs, without acquainting any other person with his intentions.
All writs sent out for the electing of parliament he ordered to be
burnt; and when he took water he threw the great seal of England into
the Thames, (which was some time afterwards taken up by a fisherman in
his net,) that nothing might be legally done in his absence. "If,"
continued Rapin, "this may not be called a real desertion of his
kingdom, it will be difficult to give a name to such proceedings!"[34]

    [32] Rapin's History of England, vol. II. p. 781.

    [33] Ibid. p. 782.

    [34] Ibid. p. 783.

However, the king did not succeed in this attempt to escape, inasmuch as
he was arrested at Feversham, and abused and insulted by the rabble; he
lost a number of valuables, and gave up to the mob about between three
and four hundred pounds in specie. Here he was protected by the Dutch
guards of the Prince of Orange, and chose to retire to Rochester; where,
in the space of about ten days from the time he had attempted his first
escape, he now resolved upon trying a second. About three o'clock in a
dark winter's morning he privately withdrew, taking with him only the
Duke of Berwick, (his natural son,) Mr. Sheldon, and Abbadie, the page;
and went on horseback to a place near the river, where he embarked in a
small frigate, which landed him safely at Ambleteusè, in France; from
whence he repaired to the court of Louis the Fourteenth, where with much
satisfaction he rejoined his queen and infant prince. "This abdication,"
emphatically observes Rapin, "paved the prince's way to the throne!"[35]

    [35] Rapin's History of England, vol. II. p. 783.

Upon the departure of King James from the shores of England, an
_interregnum_ occurred of such a nature as was hitherto unknown in
England. It was not caused by the death, but by the flight of the
sovereign. Hence this incongruity took place, that the nation was
without a king, nay, even without the representative of one, that would
take the charge of the government! Yet still, strange to say, there was
a king!--albeit a fugitive; who, although he had fled, and abandoned his
throne, yet still pretended to retain his rights!

How short and limited is the narrow space between popular adoration and
popular disgrace! To-day a king, an emperor, a demi-god--To-morrow a
fugitive, an outcast from his realm, unregarded and forgotten! for ever
blotted from the page of kings, his fate or banishment or the scaffold!
Who can then rely upon the popular breath, wayward, fickle, and
uncertain as the wave or wind? Oh! then, let the true patriot, _if_ such
is to be found upon earth, think on this; and, divested and purified
from the dross of poor mortality, reflect upon all this; aye, and let
him then, firmly armed in integrity, despise equally alike public
censure or public praise!

From this melancholy digression upon fallen greatness on English ground,
we shall reconduct the reader once more to the shores of Erin, and again
return to the family of Tyrconnel in the succeeding chapter.




CHAPTER XI.

    ----------O, behold
    How pomp is followed! mine will now be your's;
    And should we shift estates, your's would be mine!

    ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.


We now bring back the reader to the realm of Ireland, which was doomed
shortly to be the scene of anarchy and civil war, where disastrous
tidings of awful import, posting incessantly onward, hourly arrived,
rapidly heralded by rumour's thousand tongues, to afflict the loyal and
disconcert the brave.

An official despatch soon followed, which communicated and confirmed to
Tyrconnel the sad and dismal event of the flight of his royal master to
France, which truly gave him deep and sincere affliction. This
voluntary abdication of his throne upon the part of King James II. gave
Tyrconnel sorrowful concern for the present, and a sad and mournful
foreboding of the future! "Oh, had my royal master only stood his
ground," said the duke, "and have firmly held his throne, who would, who
could have dared to hurl him from it? No; even with all his political
miscalculations, nevertheless his enemies could not have succeeded. The
Prince of Orange would still have found it a difficult, perhaps an
impossible task, to have ousted his truly royal, accomplished, and brave
father-in-law, from his lawful throne; for brave and valiant was the
king, and I doubt not but still brave he is. And there was a time, be it
not forgotten, while he was Duke of York and Lord High Admiral of
England, when nobly he fought beneath the British banner, and gloriously
led on his fleet to victory!"

The Duchess of Tyrconnel, whose powerful mind and firm nerves were
"albeit unused to the melting mood," yet when her Grace heard the
mournful recital of the sufferings and voluntary exile of her afflicted
queen; she then indeed was deeply affected, and

    "Dropt tears as fast as the Arabian trees
    Their medicinal gum."

The Duchess was a wife--moreover a mother, and she knew how to pity and
compassionate the unfortunate, from the palace of kings down to the
cottage of the poor. And equally distressed was our lovely heroine,
whose generous bosom ever beat, and felt, and assisted the afflicted.

Some months had now elapsed, when one morning, while the duke was at
breakfast with his family, a despatch for his Grace, and in the
hand-writing of King James, arrived. The despatch intimated that His
Majesty was then on his way to Ireland, and summoning the immediate
attendance of Tyrconnel at Kinsale, where the king proposed to land. The
despatch was brought over in a fast-sailing French corvette, called
"_l'Eclair_," which had been detached from the French fleet which was to
escort King James to Kinsale, expressly upon this mission. And his
Grace, in obedience to the royal mandate, instantly set off by land for
the town of Kinsale.

King James II., upon _abdicating_, or _deserting_ (for great debates in
the British parliament ensued upon the proper term to be used) the
throne of England, had sought and obtained an asylum in France,
generously yielded to him by Louis XIV. King James now fully resolved,
as His Majesty expressed himself, "to make one more glorious attempt to
recover his throne;" which to effectuate he sailed from the shores of
France, attended by fourteen ships of war, six frigates, and three
fire-ships, which had been prepared in the port of Brest by the French
king. At the same time seven French battalions embarked in the fleet
which conveyed King James. The troops were commanded by the Count de
Lauzun, the same gallant, generous nobleman who had escorted King
James's queen and the Prince of Wales to the court of Versailles. The
forces were accompanied with twelve field pieces.

King James was attended in this expedition by several noble personages.
His Majesty landed at Kinsale amid the loudest cheers, and was warmly
received and welcomed by all descriptions, from the peer to the peasant,
with the greatest joy and enthusiasm. Here, in pursuance to the
instructions given to Tyrconnel, he was in readiness on the beach to
receive his royal master, where he knelt as the king approached; who
instantly upraised him, and affectionately embraced his faithful
viceroy; and instantly set off in his travelling carriage for his good
city of Dublin, accompanied by the Dukes of Berwick, Albemarle, and
Tyrconnel.

Sir Patricius Placebo, from the very moment of the announcement of the
intended arrival of his much loved sovereign at Kinsale, was constantly
on the _qui vive_, considering himself, if not the _locum tenens_, at
least the Lord Constable of his vice-regal lord, and spared no pains to
make every meet and solemn preparation to receive the right royal Stuart
into his loyal city of Dublin.

"Yes, yes, my lady Duchess," observed Sir Patricius Placebo one morning,
while at breakfast, "we will indeed receive our king right royally,
_more majorum_--ha, ha, ha! _Certes_ we shall, my Lady! with no lack
whatever of respect, and albeit with no deficit of heart!--there, in
sooth, no failing was ever yet found in an Irishman; although I
asseverate it, who, pardie, ought not, my Lady: for

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

as indeed the learned, great, and renowned Archimedes said of old. And I
will "do a deed"--not "without a name" however; for this moment I shall
fly to old Cormac, whom I shall adventure to appoint and depute, in the
absence of my superior, as the vice-regal poet laureat. Next I will post
to Ulster King at Arms; ay, and shall advise and give him hints and
innuendos of far more value and importance than all the gilt tinsel and
crimson silk which surround his brow. I shall admonish him, and his
tributaries and gallant pursuivants, one and all, decorously to furbish
their tabards, and to hire, beg, borrow, or steal stately palfreys, to
bear the herald king and suite, to meet and receive their lawful and
beloved king upon his honoured entrance into his loyal and ancient city
of Eblana, _vulgo dicta_ Dublin. Then will I hie me to the Commander
(_pro tempore_) of the Forces, and tell him of the programme which I
have planned for the king's _entrè_. And next, noble Lady, returning to
this His Majesty's royal Castle, I shall give sage and precautionary
hints and instructions to all the state battle-axe guards, state
kettle-drums and trumpets, and so forth:--

    -------------------------------"trumpeters,
    With brazen din blast ye the city's ear;
    Make mingle with our rattling tambourines;
    That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together,
    Applauding our approach!"

Ha, ha, ha! I think, my lady Duchess, we shall get on vastly
well--vastly well indeed, and not only receive the applause of my
vice-regal lord, but perchance that also of my mighty monarch."

The Duchess smiled. "I doubt not," said her Grace, "that all matters
shall go on well, _te duce_. But Sir Patricius you are, (it were in vain
to deny it,) you are an enthusiast!"

"Well, well, my lady Duchess, I shall not gainsay it. Perchance, your
Grace, I am an enthusiast; and after all, my Lady, I do not see,
constituted as this cold and phlegmatic planet of ours is, I see,
really, after all, no very great harm in this said enthusiasm, if indeed
it doth not degenerate into bigotry of politics or religious rancour;
and therefore, when my king doth come, my tongue must utter the loyal
inditings of my heart."

We must now adventure to describe the triumphant entry of King James
into his good city of Dublin. Regiments of foot, stationed in parallel
files, lined each side of every street extending from the great gate of
Dublin Castle the entire way to Saint James's gate, at the western
extremity of St. James's-street, through which the king was to make his
_entrè_. That morning all the principal avenues were purposely strewed
with fresh gravel, to facilitate the king's approach.

A triumphal arch of living laurel, surmounted by the crown of England,
adorned St. James's gate, and the armorial quarterings, richly
emblazoned, of England, Scotland, Ireland, and France, were tastefully
displayed in the arrangement. Various wreaths, laurel crowns, cordons,
and garlands of various living flowers, were suspended across the
principal streets through which the royal cavalcade was to pass.--Every
window in every avenue was festooned with laurel, oak, and various
evergreens, all tastefully contrasted and displayed.--These
demonstrations of joy were not confined merely to the city, but extended
to all the adjoining villages, towns, and hamlets, for several miles in
circuit. The royal flag was hoisted on Bedford Tower, and on the
steeples of the different churches. At night the city shone forth in a
brilliant blaze of universal illumination, which was vividly reflected
in the sparkling and undulating waves of old father Liffey, as he
joyously rolled onward to the main.

Various loyal mottoes and devices caught the eye: The harp and crown;
"Rejoice, O Erin, for behold thy king cometh unto thee!"

    "The king shall have his own again!"

--"Welcome Erin's king!"--"Hibernia hails her noble king!" &c. &c.; with
many other mottoes and devices, with which we shall not weary our
reader. A large platform was erected without James's gate on the west
and county side, on which, under a splendid gonfalon, or canopy, were
stationed several friars beneath a large cross, who sang "_Te Deum
laudamus_," as King James approached. To the right of the gate, on the
city side, was erected a large stage, covered with tapestry, on which
were stationed two Irish harpers, in due and proper costume; one of them
was no less a person than our old acquaintance, blind Cormac, the
sightless harper and minstrel of the Duke of Tyrconnel. Sir Patricius
Placebo albeit was fond of comparing the sightless bard to old
Tiresias, of prophetic memory, whose ear and recollection nearly
supplied the deficiencies of sight.

    'Ὀφθαλμῶν μὲν ἄμερσε', &c. &c.

as Sir Patricius was wont to express himself; and then he would say,
"Yes, verily, old Cormac doth much resemble, in multiform coincidence
and fortune, the wise Tiresias! but then with this sage and discreet
difference to boot, that old Cormac will never die the death of old
Tiresias, to wit, from drinking cold water! No, no, inasmuch his fond
and strong addiction lies in genuine _aqua vitæ_, or the true Drogheda
Usquebaugh; so that Cormac will never die from drinking cold water, as
he hath "forsworn thin potations," unless, peradventure, he should
happen one day or another to be drowned in the Eske or the Liffey, and
there can be no doubt then vastly against his choice and determination!"

A shout of universal joy now burst forth: "The King! the King!!" The
heavy dragoons came thundering down with an astounding clatter; the
trumpets rung a levant, the foot soldiers presented arms; standard, and
banner, and pennon, kissed the pavement; while drum, fife, cymbal,
French-horn, and trumpet, resounded through the stricken welkin, "God
save the King!" The foreign, English, and Scottish nobility, who
accompanied the king, were marshalled duly according to their respective
rank. And now, amid shouts that rent the air, King James approached. He
was mounted on a beautiful long-tailed roan charger, bred in Normandy,
which His Majesty right royally and gracefully bestrode; the steed was
gorgeously caparisoned; the trappings were of damask gold, bordered and
interspersed with the rose, shamrock, thistle, and _fleur de lis_; and
fringed withal with a deep pursell of ermine.

From the vast crowd, and the extended length of the pageant, and
prolonged procession, King James was obliged to rein up his charger, and
to halt. It so did happen that this stoppage occurred just at the stage
where the two harpers were stationed to greet, with their native harp
and song, the entrance of their king into his capital of the island of
poesy and song. They performed several loyal and sprightly airs, which
seemed to please the monarch well: among others was

    OLD CORMAC'S WELCOME.

    All welcome be the royal James,
    Let all confess his legal claims;
    While ev'ry loyal heart exclaims,
                             God save the king![36]

    From war, dissension, anarchy,
    Kind heav'n protect this kingdom free!
    United may it ever be!
                           God save the king!

    From exile see the monarch bring
    The olive round our harp to string!
    With transport let each patriot sing,
                             God save the king!

    Then welcome be the royal James,
    None shall resist his legal claims;
    While ev'ry honest heart exclaims,
                             God save the king!

    [36] The air of "God save the King" had been a French anthem, and
    words were appropriated to it, with the chorus of "God save the
    king," expressly for James the Second. Since which time it has
    been played and sung as a national anthem.

During this pause the public curiosity had sufficient time for its
indulgence by a full view of the royal person. King James looked
extremely well; he possessed a manly and animated countenance, illumined
by fine penetrating hazel eyes, his eloquent lips, his stately person;
his head was enveloped, according to the fashion of the times, in a deep
flowing full-dress peruke, surmounted by a large black beaver triangular
cocked hat, deeply edged with white ostrich feathers; the peruke
descended down freely, even to the richly polished silver corslet[37]
which he wore; his neck was adorned with the ribbons and gems of St.
George and St. Andrew; and the star of the garter sparkled in diamonds
on his breast. His whole deportment was fraught with that attractive
grace and commanding elegance of manner and address which he so fully
and peculiarly possessed, and which charmed every beholder.

    [37] The above description of the person and appearance of King
    James the Second, is taken from a beautiful oil miniature, painted
    on copper; it is believed to be from the pencil of Samuel Cooper,
    when the king was Duke of York. It is in possession of the author.

A number of handsome young women, amounting nearly to the number of
fifty, all dressed in white, and with coronals of white roses, now
advanced, and preceding the monarch, danced before him the entire way to
the gate of Dublin Castle, the Irish dance, called _Rinceadh-Fada_,
which delighted the king exceedingly. The same had been performed upon
the king's landing at Kinsale, and then too pleased him well, the
particulars of which will be found in a succeeding chapter. These young
and beautiful nymphs strewed the streets, while they danced along, with
_bouquets_ of flowers. The supply for this ceremony was contained in
small wicker baskets, which they respectively bore, with much
appropriate grace, upon their left arm; and, ever and anon, in
sylph-like attitude, they wheeled round and made obeisance to the king;
while oft, with the grace of Raphael, the right hand was duly employed
in scattering flowers, thus manifesting their unbought homage to
majesty. "The rich citizens, to testify their joy upon this occasion,
hung their balconies with tapestry and cloth of arras; those who were
not so provided displayed silk, or hangings of rich cloth; while the
poorer kind were content to sew together the coverings of Turkey-work
chairs; while others were obliged to arrange draperies of linen
cloth."[38]

    [38] Extract from the Life of King James.

At the limits of the Liberty His Majesty was met by the Lord Mayor,
aldermen, and common council, the masters, wardens, and brethren of the
twenty-five corporations of the city. Ulster King at Arms was in dutiful
attendance, accompanied by the Dublin Herald at Arms, the Athlone
Pursuivant at Arms, and lastly followed the Cork Herald at Arms. The
heralds and pursuivants all mounted upon their grey palfreys, and
attired in new and splendid tabards, made expressly for the occasion,
and which shone forth in all the blaze of heraldic pomp; while they
onward proceeded in accordance to their rank and station. Next onward
rode an esquire bearing a royal standard, on which were richly
embroidered the initials of

    "JACOBUS II. REX."[39]

    [39] Life of King James the Second.

The letters were brilliantly surrounded with a garland composed of the
rose of England, the shamrock of Erin, the thistle of Caledon, and the
lily of France. Next was borne another standard, on which was emblazoned
the armorial bearing of the harp, with the motto,

    "EX CORDE LÆTUS,"

and encircled with shamrocks. Next, the standard of England waved in the
breeze, on which was embroidered the motto,

    "NON SIC MILLE COHORTES."[40]

    [40] Ibid.

Various other banners and armorial escutcheons were borne in the
procession;--namely, the heraldic bearings of England, France, Scotland,
and Ireland. Then came on the state trumpeters, no less gorgeously and
characteristically attired than their party _per-pale_ cousins at arms,
and withal accompanied by the drowsy base of "the Almaine's sullen
kettle-drum," which closed the rere of this truly rare and illustrious
procession.

So soon as the royal cavalcade had approached the Tholsel, the Recorder
of Dublin, Counsellor Dillon, knelt to the king, and presented to him
the keys of the city; and loyally and dutifully addressed the king,
expressing "the great and unqualified joy of all the loyal citizens of
His Majesty's ancient and faithful city of Dublin, to hail their beloved
king, and welcome him within their gates; whereby was presented the
glorious opportunity of testifying to all the world their untainted
loyalty and unshaken affection; and that in defence of their sovereign's
throne they were ready and willing to risk, to the uttermost, both
their lives and fortunes."[41] The king most graciously and majestically
received the keys of the city; and on the instant graciously returned
them, while he knighted the Recorder on the spot; saying, with the
greatest courtesy and kindness, "I return them to you, Sir Recorder,
fully convinced that the keys of my most faithful city of Dublin could
not be placed in the custody of honester hearts, or more loyal hands,
than those who guard them now." And having thus said, he gracefully
bowed, and courteously waved his hand.

    [41] Life of King James the Second.

This interesting ceremony and speech having been concluded, the king
continued his route to the castle of Dublin, followed by a number of the
state-carriages of the nobility, each drawn by six horses; various other
vehicles attended--calashes, covered carriages, &c.; these were followed
by squadrons of French dragoons. Major Barker, of the Royal Guards, next
came onward, clearing the centre of the street, and ordering the troops
again to "present arms." Then approached the Grand Prior, (the Duke of
Albemarle,) in a coach drawn by six beautiful horses. Next approached
several officers of the Guards, mounted on high-mettled chargers, and
followed by grooms, each of them adroitly conducting a led horse. Then
came on several officers of the army, attended by five trumpets and as
many kettle-drums, all arrayed in new state-dresses. Next advanced
twenty of the band of gentlemen at large, who were on horseback; they
were followed by the messengers, Sergeants at Arms, bearing the maces of
the Lords and Commons. Then came on the pursuivants, heralds, and King
at Arms.

And now the Duke of Tyrconnel presented himself, mounted on a noble
milk-white charger, and martially arrayed in steel armour, highly
wrought and polished; the star of the garter glittered on his manly
breast; and the magnificent collar, with its splendid and appendant gem,
swung from the graceful shoulders of the valiant duke. The Marquis
d'Estrades and Lord Drummond were on the right hand of the Duke; the
Earl of Melfort and Lord Seaforth supported the left. Then succeeded
many troops of dragoons, a numerous list of nobles and gentry, with
numerous servants and attendants; a large assemblage of state-carriages
of peers, drawn by six horses, some with four, and others with only a
pair. Thus was the rear of this princely cavalcade brought up. And the
procession was last of all closed by an immense assemblage who rent the
air with loud and continued shouts and acclamations of joy.

"In this stately progress King James reached the capital, and made his
triumphant entry, followed by a splendid train of French, British, and
Irish; and attended by the Count d'Avaux in the character of ambassador
of France."[42]

    [42] Leland's History of Ireland, vol. III. p. 522.

Meanwhile all the bands of the different regiments joined in playing the
then well known air of

    "The king shall enjoy his own again!"

When this warlike symphony had ceased the populace with one accord
huzzaed, and shouted "God save the King!" They hailed and warmly
congratulated His Majesty's arrival at his Castle of Dublin, where,
having alighted from his horse, he was met at the portal by the
host,[43] which was overshadowed by a gonfalon, or canopy of state,
borne by four Roman bishops, and accompanied by a numerous train of
friars singing, and attended by other clergy of the same persuasion,
along with the titular primate at their head, who wore a triple crown,
or tiàra. The king was conducted by them into the chapel-royal, which
had been built by the Duke of Tyrconnel,[44] where _Te Deum_ was chanted
upon the welcome and happy arrival of His Majesty.

    [43] Life of King James.

    [44] This is literally true: this chapel was pulled down, and a
    new one built during the administration of the present Duke of
    Bedford.

These ceremonies being concluded, His Majesty subsequently retired to
the new apartments, which had been recently built and decorated by
Tyrconnel, where the king dined.

It having been intimated to the king that upon the following day the
triennial perambulation of the liberties and franchises of the city of
Dublin was to take place; and His Majesty having been humbly solicited
to witness the same, most graciously gave his consent. The riding of the
franchises, or "riding the fringes," as popularly called, was in fact a
most brilliant and truly imposing public spectacle, not to be equalled,
and quite surpassing, every other pageant then or since known in Europe.




CHAPTER XII.

    Prætexta, et trabeæ, fasces, lectica, tribunal.
    Quid, si vidisset Prætorem curribus altis
    Enstantem, et medio sublimem in pulvere circi
    In tunica Jovis, et pictæ sarrana ferentem
    Ex humeris aulæa togæ, magnæque coronæ
    Tantum orbem, quanto cervix non sufficit ulla?

    JUVENAL, Sat. x.

    ----Fasces, chains, litters, purple gowns.
    What! had he seen, in his triumphal car,
    Amid the dusty cirque conspicuous far,
    The prætor perched aloft, superbly drest
    In Jove's proud tunic, with a trailing vest
    Of Tyrian tapestry, and o'er him spread
    A crown too bulky for a mortal head?

    GIFFORD'S JUVENAL.


Peradventure, kind reader, thou art no lover of history or chronicles,
no admirer of antiquarian research, and art withal (forefend us!) in
thine heart a determined foe to every matter and circumstance
pertaining to the "dark, backward, and abysm of time." If such, gentle
reader, be the materials of which thou art made, pause fair and softly,
if it so beseemeth thee, ere thou venturest again to open this volume,
from perusal of which, in sober seriousness, we would make bold to
dissuade thee, courteous reader! lest perchance the discussion might
"hurt thy health, and prejudice thy conscience," as the sage Sancho
Panza hath said of yore.

The day appointed for the display of the grand and solemn pageant of the
perambulation of the liberties and franchises of the city of Dublin had
arrived. This event only occurred every third year; and upon this august
occasion was to be witnessed by the royal eye of the princely James. The
arrangement of the procession and of its various details presented the
most grand and magnificent spectacle ever witnessed in the Irish
metropolis. It was a custom so singular, so unlike any procession or
pageant known in any other realm, that when it did occur the nobility
and gentry from every near and foreign land crowded to Dublin to behold
the splendid array of this unique and magnificent spectacle. Upon this
triennial occurrence the interest was most highly increased, and the
stately pomp and splendour of the pageant aided and augmented by the
cheering presence of the sovereign.

The grand cavalcade in slow and solemn measure advanced, preceded by a
noble troop of heavy dragoons;--we mention heavy dragoons distinctly to
mark to the reader's attention the distant period of time of which we
here speak; for at that period light dragoons were unknown in the
British service. The enlivening trumpets rent the air; meanwhile the
military bands played at intervals loyal and national airs; banners
waving on high, and the various flags and ensigns attached to the
numerous vessels in the river, all undulating in the breeze; while
around and upon every side the genius of ancient chivalry seemed to
preside and conduct the procession. Sir John Ottrington, Lord Mayor of
the city of Dublin, came in great pomp, pride, and circumstance of civic
distinction, in his magnificent state coach; his dignified head was
arrayed in a full flowing peruke, upon which much care and caution had
been studiously expended for its adornation; and that day witnessed
good-man shaver, Bob Basin to wit, the city barber, a proud and happy
man, who seemed all-sufficient to enjoy the triumph of the day, in
which, as he modestly conceived, he had done "the State some service,
and they knew it." This most formidable bushy specimen of a peruke was
cumberously surmounted by the bulky civic crown, which was in sooth
unwieldy and most unbecoming in its conformation and appearance; indeed
not dissimilar to that worn by the Herald King at Arms upon the high
ceremonial of a coronation. The Lord Mayor was attired in full court
dress, over which was worn a flowing scarlet gown, and around his neck
was suspended the splendid gold enamelled collar which had been most
graciously presented to the city of Dublin by Charles the Second, of
chaste and pious memory! It must not forsooth be disguised that the
costume was as cumbersome as it was unbecoming; yet still the ladies
all unanimously agreed in the opinion that Sir John Ottrington was "a
very pretty fellow in his day;" a most portly personage he was, who
would have become any costume, civil or military, nay, even the hodiern
foppery of an English Field-Marshal--tags, bobs, cordons, trappings,
ribands, feathers, and so forth. However, had any modern taken a glance
at a similar figure, he must assuredly have been incontinently reminded
of his facetious old acquaintance, Lord Grizel, in the inimitable and
humorous burletta of O'Hara's _Tom Thumb_!

All the _accessoirès_ of city regalia were duly and circumspectly
displayed at this truly splendid pageant. The ponderous city mace was
regilt and richly burnished, which shone conspicuous and refulgent from
the sinister window of the civic coach; while from the dexter side
gently undulated, _in transitu_, the mayoral wand, like the caduceus of
Mercury, imposing peace and silence on the dense and congregated
multitude.

The sword of state was carried in the van, while the silver baton was
borne by a corporate officer in the rere, attended by the city
battle-axe guards, who followed the state coach two by two, while others
of the guard flanked it, and the remaining number closed the procession.
It is but just to say, that all the civic regalia, in due pomp, and
circumstance, and order, were displayed conformable to the ancient,
laudable, and loyal usages of this most enlightened corporation.

The persons who personified the civic battle-axe guards were grenadiers
hired for the occasion expressly, and duly selected from the ranks. The
costume of these worthies, although varying in colour, yet resembled in
shape and fashion that of the royal Buffetteers, (in popular parlance
called beef eaters, from their portly appearance, no doubt;)[45] the
bonnets were formed of green velvet, with a rich gold foliage of
shamrocks, which surrounded them. The exterior habiliments were of rich
green cloth, laced, and richly embroidered with national devices; and
upon the breast of each were duly embroidered the city arms, namely,
three castles in flames, and the motto, "_obedientia civium, felicitas
urbis_." The hose were of red worsted, with large open clokes; the shoes
short quartered and high heeled, with the appanage of small brass
buckles. The partisans which they bore were similar to those of the
royal battle-axe guards. As the procession slowly proceeded onward, the
populace accommodated them-selves with great attention and most discreet
silence, being right marvelously amazed at such unusual pomp and
splendour.

    [45] But actually so named from being the guard who preside over
    the royal buffet, or side-board.

Next in the proud pageant came the High Sheriffs, each in his own
splendid state chariot, with a crowd of lackeys in rich liveries behind.
These worthies, Sir Mark Rainsford and Sir Edward Lloyd, not forgetting
the Lord Mayor, did not escape the ceremonial of being knighted by King
James. The Aldermen followed in their respective carriages. They were
succeeded in the procession by the several guilds or corporations of the
city, amounting in the aggregate to the number of twenty-five; at the
unprecedented splendour of whose appearance the populace were verily
struck with downright delight and astonishment.

The particular detail and explanation of each guild, as it advanced,
halted, and retreated in the proud pageant, was explained most minutely
by the Duke of Tyrconnel to his gracious and royal master. His Grace
certainly acquitted himself with most sage, cautious, and circumspect
discretion, but attended withal with sundry and various circumforaneous
explanations; all which long ambages and diffuse prolixities purposely
to avoid, we have cut down and curtailed the whole, which would
otherwise not be contained in a chapter, but require an essay to give
the entire. We have therefore abridged the particulars, and thrown the
whole into as brief a narrative as the subject would admit of, premising
that the splendid and imposing spectacle was beheld from the windows of
the presence-chamber of Dublin Castle by the royal James, surrounded by
all the beauty of the land, and encompassed by all the flower of
chivalry.

The magnificence of the pageant of riding the franchises (or fringes,
as corruptly called in popular parlance) was considerably increased in
pomp and effect from the introduction of different individuals of the
different corporations, who were attired in habits emblematical and
illustrative of the different trades of the different guilds. The
characters were generally borrowed from the heathen mythology, and were
strictly and classically arrayed in proper pantheon costume.

We must observe in a general way, that the five-and-twenty guilds, or
corporations of the city, formed an unrivalled pageant, the most
singular and remarkable in Europe; it would occupy too much time to
enter into a minute detail--however, a few we shall briefly notice.

Neptune, surrounded by his attendant tritons, dolphins, &c., sat proudly
enthroned in a triumphal car. He was the presiding deity of the guild of
merchants. The marine deity was followed by their corporate friend
Mercury, bearing all his attributes, and stately standing in an elevated
illuminated caravan, representing the clouds.

The tree of knowledge, adorned with the forbidden fruit, the serpent
encompassing the bole of the tree, and supported on each side by our
first parents, duly preceded the corporation of Tailors. Adam and Eve
were clad in flesh-coloured garments, fitting close to the person; and,
sooth to say, the fig-leaf was not forgotten by the grateful
corporation!

But we must needs be brief in this general outline:--

Vulcan presided over the corporation of Smiths. He was stationed on a
superb car, with his attending Cyclops, who were intently working on a
mounted forge; a lovely Venus graced his side; and as the arrows came
formed from the anvil, they were handed to Cupid.

Saturn, with his attributes, his scythe and serpent, and attended by
Esculapius, presiding over the guild of Barbers and Surgeons, followed
in a splendid car.

Ceres, seated in a triumphal chariot, drawn by four oxen, presided over
the corporation of Bakers. In a caravan which followed was placed an
oven, which was briskly at work; whence cakes were made, and
distributed to the populace.

The guild of Carpenters were preceded by a most magnificent caravan,
adorned with the various orders of architecture; in the centre of which
was placed a representation of Mount Ararat, on which reposed a model of
Noah's ark; thereby the corporation slyly intimating that their
handicraft was as old as the deluge!

Crispin and Crispianus, the two tutelar saints of the corporation of
Shoemakers, duly personated, and attired in strict saintly costume,
preceded the worthy guild.

Bacchus, "ever fair and young," crowned with his own ivy, bearing the
Thyrsus wand in his right, and a golden goblet in his left hand, duly
enthroned on a wine-cask, and mounted on a triumphal car, decorated with
festoons of grapes and vine-leaves, presided over the guild of Cooks and
Vintners.

Jason supporting the golden fleece, (with the ship Argo in the back
ground of his splendid car, blazing in burnished gold,) presided over
the guild of Weavers.

Iris, enveloped in her own rainbow, and borne in a car, adorned with
transparent clouds, presided over the Sheermen and Dyers.

We shall only notice one guild more--the corporation of Printers, to
whom we, in common with every Briton, owe such a debt of gratitude. A
free press has always been acknowledged, and we trust ever may continue,
the _palladium_ of British liberty!

This guild, forming a magnificent and extended cavalcade, made a grand
and interesting display; their ancient banners and standards borne in
the van were tri-coloured, crimson, light-yellow, and blue. The first
banner bore the legend, or motto, "_Rex et Lex_;" upon the second, "_Pro
rege sæpe, Pro Patria semper_;" upon the last banner was splendidly
emblazoned the words, "_Liberty of the Press_!"

A statue of Minerva, placed on a high pedestal, and mounted in a
triumphal car, headed the procession. A bomb-cart followed, heavily
laden, containing ammunition and stores; that is to say, not gunpowder,
chain-balls, and grape-shot, but more peaceful pastime, _videlicet_:
cold meat, pasties, pies, confectionary, wines, &c. Next advanced four
fine palfreys, covered with richly embroidered field-clothes, each led
by a groom in splendid livery. Then came on a brother of the
corporation, who personated Vulcan; he was arrayed in a noble suit of
armour, which had belonged to king Charles the First; it was the gift of
the late Colonel Joshua Paul, a free-brother of the guild, to the
corporation. Vulcan rode on horseback, the housings, trappings, and
horse-furniture, were decorated with appropriate emblems; he bore an
immense sledge-hammer of richly polished steel, the handle curiously
ornamented with fanciful Arabesque ornaments, inlaid in gold and silver.

Next in succession advanced a triumphal car, or caravan, drawn by six
beautiful black steeds, covered with handsome nets, the coachman and
postillion in rich splendid liveries. Within the carriage was exhibited
a handsome printing-press, with two pressmen and a compositor at work. A
hackney author was occupied in writing for and correcting the press. A
printer's devil was busily at work; and a painter engaged at his eazle,
all in meet and proper costume. The printing-press was richly and
appropriately ornamented: in the front stood a figure of Mercury holding
a poem, copies of which were struck off, and distributed among the
spectators; it was in praise of the noble art of printing, in which
honourable mention was made of the founders and benefactors of this
glorious invention. Nor were the following distinguished worthies
forgotten:--Wynkin de Worde, Caxton, Pynson, Kerver, Simon Vostre,
Theodore Martin, Jean Petit, Plantin, the two Elzivers, &c. The
printer's devil published impressions of the poem among the congregated
multitude.

The masters and wardens of the guild, splendidly arrayed in appropriate
costume, attended by kettle-drums mounted on horseback, the performers
dressed in Turkish habits, and attended by grooms in Tartar habits, who
led the horses, that were most splendidly caparisoned, next came on.
They were followed by persons on foot bearing long silver maces; at
intervals they obtained copies from the press of verses laudatory of
King James, which were distributed among the people. Four copies were
struck off on white satin, and sent into the castle to be presented to
King James; the verses were by Waller and Lord Lansdowne; at receiving
of which King James seemed most highly gratified. They were as
follows:--

    "Bred in the camp, fam'd for his valour young;
    At sea successful, vigorous, and strong;
    His fleet, his army, and his mighty mind,
    Esteem and rev'rence thro' the world do find."[46]

    "Tho' trained in arms, and learned in martial arts,
    Thou choosest not to conquer men but hearts;
    Expecting nations for thy triumphs wait,
    But thou prefer'st the name of just to great."[47]

    [46] Extract from lines presented to His Majesty King James the
    Second, upon his birth-day, by _Edmund Waller_.

    [47] From _Lord Lansdowne_ to King James II.

Having perused these lines, King James most sweetly smiled, and with his
accustomed gracious condescension, gracefully approached the centre
window of the presence-chamber; he condescendingly looked down, and most
courteously bowed to the corporation of Printers, his face illumined
with a smile peculiar to himself, and in a most king-like attitude he
gracefully waved his hand. Then addressing the Duke of Tyrconnel, who,
with the other nobles of the household, surrounded His Majesty, the king
was pleased to say, "I perceive your Grace's countrymen are _tam Marti,
quam Mercurio_--they are courteous as they are brave." The Duke lowly
and respectfully bowed his acquiescence to the observation.

The proud pageant having closed, all the troops assembled presented
arms, lowered their banners; while drum, trumpet, and kettle-drum struck
up the anthem of "God save the King!"

The Duke of Tyrconnel fully explained to the king the name, description,
and detail of each guild as it made its entrance and exit. The duke had
taken some pains to prepare himself to be the royal _Cicerone_ of the
day; and, in sooth, as King James remarked to him, like my Lord Hamlet,
he was "as good as a chorus."

The number of saddle, led, and draft-horses, produced in this splendid
pageant were the best bred and most beautiful horses in the kingdom,
being selected, by the courtesy and permission of the noble proprietors,
from the most valuable studs the country then could boast of. The
richness of the horse furniture, housings, trappings, harness, &c.,
quite surpasses description. Never were present upon any former occasion
so many foreigners of distinction; and exclusive of those immediately
attendant upon the king, the nobility and gentry crowded to Dublin, as
did the noblesse of foreign realms, to witness, whenever it occurred,
this magnificent spectacle, which could not be equalled in any other
part of Europe.

King James was quite enraptured at the brilliant display, and addressing
the Duke of Tyrconnel, said:--"Albeit I have sojourned for a length of
time at my court of St. Germains, and have, in sooth, resided in the
country of pomp, spectacle, and pageantry, yet assuredly never have I
there witnessed such a scene of splendour as I have beheld this day,
either at Versailles or at Paris!--It has given me great satisfaction
truly, and I must observe that I consider that the taste, pomp, and
splendour of the pageant of to-day has rarely, if ever, been surpassed."

At night-fall the waits were in attendance at the upper castle-gate to
serenade the royal James. As the usage has become obsolete, it is
necessary to acquaint the reader that WAITS were a band of itinerant
nocturnal musicians, who perambulated the streets, singing, and playing
on different instruments, at different houses, where they addressed the
master or mistress of the mansion; and at Christmas-tide they were
usually most alert in their avocation, when they were tolerably sure of
an _honorarium_. The Irish waits resembled the _musiquè ambulantè_ of
France. In England waits are very ancient. It is now about thirty-eight
or forty years since this custom has wholly ceased in the city of
Dublin. The Irish waits were always attended by a man who bore a long
pole, from which was suspended a spherical illuminated lantern, which
they called their moon; with Falstaff they might indeed say, "Let us be
gentlemen of the shade--minions of the moon!" They sung and accompanied
the following verses to the air of "God save the King!"

    O welcome be our noble king!
    Resound the harp, each dulcet string,
    While every loyal chord shall ring,
    And every loyal tongue shall sing,
    With filial burst, God save the king!

    Oh, ever on his natal day
    Our grateful homage we shall pay;
    And bless the fav'ring breeze whose wing
    Wafted our great and generous king!

After this long digression we shall resume our story in the following
chapter.




CHAPTER XIII.

    ----Hark! from camp to camp
    The hum of either army stilly sounds,
    That the fix'd sentinels almost receive
    The secret whispers of each other's watch;
    Steed threatens steed in high and boastful neighings,
    Piercing the night's dull ear.

    KING HENRY V.


King James, almost immediately after his arrival in his capital of
Dublin, assembled and met the Irish parliament. His Majesty proceeded in
great state to the House of Peers to open the session, where, arrayed in
his royal robes, and adorned with his crown,[48] he met the assembled
lords and commons of Ireland. He made a most truly dignified and
impressive speech[49] from the throne, with all that native grace and
dignity with which indeed King James was peculiarly gifted; and he
adopted his royal residence, while he sojourned in his Irish capital, at
the Castle of Dublin, from whence His Majesty issued various
proclamations.

    [48] Life of King James.

    [49] This speech will be found in the third volume of Rapin's
    History of England, page 85.

The morning which succeeded the said meeting of parliament, at an early
hour, the Duke of Tyrconnel received an express, which stated, that[50]
"the Prince of Orange had landed at Carrickfergus, from the Mary yacht,
attended by Prince George of Denmark, the Duke of Ormond, the Earls of
Devonshire, Oxford, Scarborough, and Manchester, the Honourable Mr.
Boyle, and many other persons of distinction. He tarried," it was added
to the report, "only about half an hour after his landing, and then set
off in Duke Schomberg's carriage for Belfast."

    [50] History and Antiquities of the County and Town of
    Carrickfergus.

When this was told to King James, his only reply was, in allusion to
Prince George: "What! has little '_est-il possible_' deserted me at
last!"[51]

    [51] Memoirs of Grammont.

The plain, but extraordinary fact now came forth, that the Prince of
Orange had been actually six days in Ireland before any intimation or
express to that effect had arrived thereby to acquaint King James of the
event.

The Prince of Orange having driven King James from England, Ireland was
now fated to become the scene of civil war, which, as will appear, was
conducted with considerable talent on both sides. And very soon a battle
was to be fought between two contending sovereigns, and the glorious
prize depending upon the eventful issue of the mighty contest was no
less than the triple crown of three powerful kingdoms!

At this period England was most critically circumstanced: defeat at home
was succeeded by victory of the enemy abroad. The defeat of the fleet
of Torrington off the shores of England, was the harbinger of the defeat
of the Dutch in the great battle of Fleurus. The reins of government
were guided by a woman, whose councils were distracted by two implacable
factions. Invasion was impending; rebellion existed in one of the three
kingdoms, and was expected in the other two; the king was absent; the
army abroad in other countries; and an exiled master returning home,
armed with power and vengeance. These combined causes shook the British
empire to its centre.

Numerous indeed were the difficulties and obstructions with which the
Prince of Orange had to contend; and various the plots, intrigues, and
conspiracies, that he had to overcome, which rendered the commencement
of his reign (when styled William III.) so very tempestuous, that more
than once he had resolved[52] "to abandon his throne, and retire into
Holland, and for ever to relinquish the sovereignty of England;
distracted, as he found it, with political and religious contentions,
and convulsed by party and faction."

    [52] Rapin's History of England.

However, he hesitated before he carried this measure into execution. He
issued a proclamation previous to his departure from England, promising
to the Irish who should lay down their arms and return to their homes,
that they should not be molested in their persons or injured in their
properties; and this he promulgated to some Irish lords, who were at
that time in London, at the very moment that Duke Schomberg was
departing for Ireland. The discourse which King William gave at a
council held was to this effect:[53] "He declared to them, that he had
resolved, with the assistance of God, to reduce Ireland to the obedience
of England, and not to stop at any measure that was necessary for its
accomplishment; but that he loved not the effusion of blood--no, not
even of his most implacable enemy; and that he had resolved, so far as
human prudence permitted, to extend his pardon and his clemency to all
those who were in arms against him, except the Duke of Tyrconnel, the
Lord Chancellor Fitton," and about twelve peers more, who were
enumerated in this proclamation, and were thereby excluded from the
royal mercy; and in this exception some generals and field officers were
included.

    [53] Rapin's History of England.

Intrusting the government of England to his royal consort Queen Mary,
the daughter of King James II., he proceeded immediately to Ireland,
there in person to pursue the war with vigour; and very shortly landed,
as has been already told, at Carrickfergus, where he was expected with
impatience, and was met by his army, which in number amounted to forty
thousand men, not only well appointed and provided with necessaries, but
also well disciplined. They were attended by a commissariat corps, and a
train of sixty large cannon, which completed the military force of
William. The army consisted of English, Dutch, and Brandenburghers, who
received their illustrious leader with shouts and transports of joy.
Upon the landing of King William he was received by the Duke of
Schomberg, the Count Menard Schomberg (son to the duke), by the Prince
of Wirtemberg, Count Solms, Major-General Scravenmore, Lord Sidney, Sir
David Bruce, and Sir John Lanier, &c. &c.

As soon as King James had positive intelligence of the arrival of the
Prince of Orange, (who, strange to say, had been, as we before noticed,
six days in Ireland without King James having been made acquainted with
the event,) he then instantly commenced his march; and committing the
guard of Dublin to Colonel Luttrel, who afterwards betrayed him,[54] and
who then commanded a body of militia, His Majesty set onward in his
march, attended by an army consisting of about six thousand foot, old
experienced soldiers of the army of Louis XIV., the same which had
lately accompanied him from France. These were destined to form a
junction with the chief body of his troops, who were then stationed on
the banks of the Boyne. These, when they should be united, although
considerable, yet, in point of numbers, were still inferior to the army
of the Prince of Orange.

    [54] Life of King James.

Several months previous to the arrival of King James, Duke Schomberg had
landed at Carrickfergus Bay, at the head of twelve thousand men; and
without any opposition, assisted by six ships of war, he took possession
of the town. Upon his advance into the country the position of the
hostile armies were thus constituted:--Schomberg then occupied Dundalk,
which he was forced to fortify; while Marshal Rosen threatened his right
flank. King James had lost previous to his arrival, by the defeat of his
forces, the fort and garrison of Charlemont, along with a large store of
ammunition, seventeen pieces of brass cannon, &c.; and want of
provisions caused the surrender of this important fortress. The troops
of Marshal Rosen then found it necessary to march to the banks of the
Shannon, until they should ascertain how matters went on at sea. For
Louis XIV. had sent them assurances that he would not only fit out a
great fleet, but that as soon as the squadron which coasted in the
Irish seas to guard the transport fleet, and to secure the Prince of
Orange's passage over, should sail into the channel to join the grand
fleet of England, he would then send into the Irish seas a fleet of
small frigates and privateers, to destroy the transports of the Prince
of Orange.[55] This indeed would have proved fatal if it had taken
effect; and the execution of the scheme seemed easy, if not certain. It
would have shut up the Prince of Orange in Ireland until a new transport
fleet could have been brought thither, which would have taken some
months to complete; so that England, in the mean time, might have been
lost before, by any possibility, he could have repassed the seas with
his army.

    [55] Rapin's History of England.

There can be no doubt whatever that the destruction of the transports of
the Prince of Orange must also have caused the ruin of his army; for the
stores both of bread and ammunition were still on board, from whence he
was to draw his supplies. Conscious of this, he made his fleet sail
slowly along the eastern coast towards the capital, spread out in sight
of his army as it advanced in its march, to elevate the spirits of his
soldiers by the grandeur of the spectacle, and to inspire them with
confidence by the idea of security which it presented.[56] Upon all
that coast there was not a safe port to cover and secure the fleets and
transports of the Prince of Orange; and it was this induced the staff
and officers of King James to oppose the measure of bringing the war to
a speedy termination. Meanwhile King James's army was stationed on the
banks of the Boyne, to defend the capital. King James had now arrived at
the head quarters of his army; and with the reinforcements which he
brought along with him, as well as by his royal presence, gave hope and
confidence to his army. But there was an oversight in King James when an
opportunity was presented of totally defeating Schomberg, which, by
remissness or want of determination, he wholly lost. Schomberg, upon the
arrival of King James, was in the occupation of Dundalk, which he was
forced to fortify. Marshal Rosen threatened his right flank at the same
time that King James, with thirty thousand men, was stationed on the
banks of the Boyne, at Drogheda. It hence appears that King James had
thus Schomberg shut up there in a _cul de sac_, all retreat being cut
off;[57] Schomberg's army pining and diminishing by sickness, and
enclosed in retrenchments; while King James, with a far superior army,
stood in front. But strange to say, he permitted Schomberg to escape,
and make good his retreat unmolested by any pursuit.

    [56] Sir John Dalrymple's Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland,
    and Rapin's History of England.

    [57] Colonel Keating's Defence of Ireland.

However, this inaction of King James arose, it would appear, from his
positive determination to remain where he was encamped, and defend the
Boyne, which he considered to be the key that mastered the pass to the
capital. "We must," said the king, addressing himself to his council of
war, and principally to Tyrconnel, "_coutè qui coutè_ defend the Boyne.
Not to do this is to abandon Dublin; and by so doing we should lose our
reputation, so that the people would desert us, and capitulate; and all
our friends in England would be also dispirited; therefore I am fully
resolved to have one fair and, I trust, decisive battle for my
crown."[58]

    [58] Rapin's History of England.

Lieutenant-General Hamilton advised King James at this council, "to send
a detachment of dragoons to defend the ford of Slane, which was below
the town of Drogheda, (which the English either knew not of, or did not
regard of importance,) and to despatch eight regiments to defend the
bridge of Slane."

But King James coldly said in reply: "I shall send fifty dragoons to
protect the ford."[59]

    [59] Ibid.

This reply put Hamilton into the utmost amazement, considering the
importance of the place to be defended. But he remained silent.

In many respects the determination of King James to maintain the post he
occupied, which certainly was well chosen, was as correct as his resolve
was judicious; where encamped,

    "His white pavilions made a show,
    Like remnants of the winter's snow,
    Along DONORE'S dark ridge."

"Stationed upon the commanding hill of Donore, which looked down upon
the Boyne, his right approach was upon Drogheda, which he occupied, his
front facing the Boyne, fordable, but still deep, and rising every tide,
with strong banks, which, intersected by mounds of earth, and divided by
hedges and ditches; hence his army presented a front of about three
miles, extending towards the Slane, where he negligently failed to
occupy a bridge, which had been advised by General Hamilton. The river
Boyne forms towards the centre of where James was stationed a
considerable projecting curve, and another in reverse higher up toward
Slane."[60] This, as will be seen in a subsequent chapter, was of the
utmost importance to the two contending princes. We must add, that the
localities of the station added to the security of King James; for had
his opponent succeeded in crossing the Boyne at this point, there was
still a morass also to be passed, and then succeeded by the barrier of a
rising ground.

    [60] Keating's Defence of Ireland.

Thus advantageously was encamped upon the 30th of June the army of King
James.--He had thrown up some breast-works upon the banks of the fords
which lay between the two camps; and he now gave orders that "if his
troops were driven from these on the morrow, then to retire to the line
of houses; if from the houses, to the hedges; if from the hedges, to the
range of small hills; and if driven from these, to occupy the heights of
Donore: and if they could not then make that station good, they were to
retreat to Duleek, and stop further pursuit by defending the pass."

Throughout the whole of this eventful day, the precursor of the ever
memorable first of July, salutation from the cannon's mouth had been
interchanged between each contending army, and not without leaving
numerous ostensible marks of slaughter in the camps of the two
contending princes. But towards the close of day the thundering roar of
cannon ceased at once on both sides; while in the rival camps of royal
James and William was only then to be heard the "dreadful note of
preparation" for the battle on the morrow.

King James having caused his army to pass him in single files,
surrounded by his nobles, generals, and staff, he thus addressed his
army:--

"Soldiers, and comrades of my toil! to-morrow I purpose putting an end
to all our hardships and privations by terminating the war; by boldly
encountering those squadrons who are now yonder encamped, and whose
standards, waving on the banks of the Boyne below, seem to invite us to
the battle. We shall not disappoint them! nor, brave men, shall you be
disappointed! They shall indeed feel what loyal men, determined in a
just cause, can do and dare for their lawful sovereign. And God protect
those who fight under the banner of justice;--who fight for their lawful
king, and for all that is dear to men! As for myself I have been bred in
the ranks of war, (if your king may for once be permitted to speak of
what he has performed;) educated alike in the school of hardship as of
war. I have fought in different realms--in Spain, in France, and
Holland, I have fought and conquered with the brave Turenne, for whom I
have ever felt the tenderness of a son. I have fought by land and by
sea, and with those same Dutch that now invade us; aye, and beat them
too we have to boot! at the mouth of their Texel--upon their own shores,
I did it! But to-morrow we shall meet them again, and their vaunting
leader, in the battle-field; when and where, I trust, under the auspices
of heaven, that again and once more I shall rout them, and that too
upon my loyal shores of Ireland! For strongly I feel that the blood of
the noble Edwards and the Henrys still pulsates in these veins; and that
the valiant blood of the fourth Henry of France, my glorious
grandfather, still survives, and animates his descended son. Soldiers!
he too, like myself, met with ingratitude--with disloyalty! he, like me,
was driven from his throne! But he had a Sully; and I can boast that I
have a Tyrconnel! His loyal troops of Navarre restored him to his
throne; and on to-morrow, with the benison of God, I shall witness my
restoration to the ancient throne of the Stuarts, by my brave--my loyal
Irish, and the gallant swords of my noble Frenchmen that now encircle
me; and who, to a man, are fully determined to conquer or to die for me;
and in that fate shall your king fully participate with you all--to
vanquish or to perish!"

Here shouts of "_Vive le Roy_," and of "God save King James," from the
French, English, and Irish troops of the king, rent the air with loud
and tumultuous huzzas; which bursting over the heights of Donore, were
re-echoed by the waters of the Boyne below, and wafted to the camp of
the Prince of Orange.

Meanwhile, in the camp of King James, the Duke of Tyrconnel was every
where to be seen galloping from post to _piquèt_. He ordered each
soldier to wear in his cap a small cockade of white paper upon the
ensuing day of battle, that in the heat of the engagement they might
thence distinguish each other from their foes.[61]

    [61] Life of King James.

"The watch-word of to-night," said the duke, as he rode along the camp,
addressing himself to the officers, "be '_Eblana_;' and our gallant
war-cry on the morrow let it be--'James and Victory!'"

Here the whole army rent the air with shouts of applause; while
Tyrconnel retired to his tent, impatiently awaiting the dawn of day.

From the moment of the arrival of the Prince of Orange in Ireland he had
taken every pains, and had used every art, to inspire his army with
confidence, and to ingratiate himself in their favour and love.[62] All
the arts of a general and of a man of sense he put in practice to draw
the attention of his soldiers from the misfortunes of the last year in
Ireland, and from the danger of the present. The day upon which all his
troops from different quarters met and united with him: he then ordered
the whole army to pass him, and thus threw a march into a review.
Instead of keeping one station, he rode in among the regiments so soon
as they appeared, to encourage the soldiers, and to satisfy himself of
the state of every regiment. An order having been brought him to affix
his signature for wine for his table, the prince said aloud:--"No, I
will drink water with my soldiers!" He slept every night in camp, and
was throughout the day on horseback; he flew from place to place to
survey the army, or the country, intrusting nothing to others. While at
one time he brought up the rere with an anxiety which fully engaged the
affections of the soldiers; at another with a spirit which inflamed
them, he was the foremost in advanced parties if danger seemed to
threaten, or that the object to be known was of importance.[63]

    [62] Story's Civil Wars of Ireland.

    [63] Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland, by Sir John Dalrymple,
    vol. I. p. 135.

But it is now full time that we should attend in the camp of the Prince
of Orange, and take a cursory view of some of the principal events of
the remarkable 30th day of June, and notice his force, the occurrences
of this day, and his preparations for the approaching battle.

At break of day the Prince of Orange, upon the 30th of June, being
informed that the army of King James had repassed the Boyne, ordered his
whole army to move forward at that early hour, in three lines, towards
the river, which was distant from them about three miles. The advanced
guards of horse commanded by Sir John Lanier; the Brandenburghers by
Colonel Sir David Bruce. They moved onward in very good order, and by
nine o'clock were within two miles of Drogheda. The Prince of Orange,
who marched in front of them, observing that there was a hill to the
east of the enemy, and to the north from the town, he rode instantly
thither to inspect their camp, which he found to be stationed along the
river in two parallel lines.[64]

    [64] Rapin's History of England.

Here different observations were made as to the force and numbers of the
enemy by Prince George of Denmark, the Dukes of Schomberg and Ormond,
and other generals. Amongst them General Scravenmore appeared to despise
their numbers, observing, at the same time, that they were but a handful
of men, for he could not reckon above forty-six battalions that were
then encamped.

But both the Prince of Orange and Prince George replied, that they might
have a great many men in the town; and that there was also a hill to the
south-east, beyond which part of their army might be encamped.

"However," rejoined the Prince of Orange, "we shall soon be better
acquainted with their numbers--

    'If fight King James, as well I trust
    That fight he will, and fight he must.'"

The Prince of Orange now proceeded in person to visit every outpost,
every videt, every guard, and every _piquèt_. He marked out his
encampment, and fathomed the Boyne in order to ascertain where it was
fordable for his army to pass, which he firmly resolved to do upon the
following morning. While the prince was thus occupied, and advancing to
take a nearer view of the situation of his enemy, and while the army was
marching, he alighted from his horse, and sat down upon a rising ground,
where he refreshed himself for about an hour. During which time a party
of about forty horse of King James came on; but advancing very slowly,
they made a halt upon a ploughed field opposite to the Prince of Orange.
They brought with them in the rere two field-pieces, which,
undiscovered, they planted at the angle of a hedge, which screened the
cannon. The prince was no sooner remounted than the party instantly
fired at him, and with the first shot killed a man and two horses very
near to the prince. This bullet was presently succeeded by another,
which having first grazed upon the bank of the river, then upon
rebounding struck the Prince of Orange in the right shoulder, tore away
a piece of his coat, and stripped off the skin; afterwards in the recoil
it broke the handle of a gentleman's pistol.

Lord Conningsby seeing what had happened, rode up hastily, and putting
his handkerchief to the prince's shoulder, staunched the wound. The
prince remounted his charger, and observed to Lord Conningsby, "_Il ne
faloit pas que le coup fût plus pres_."[65] There was no necessity that
the bullet should have come nearer!

    [65] Histoire de Guillaume III. tome II. Amsterdam, 1703.

This accident having occasioned some disorder among the attendants of
the Prince of Orange, caused the enemy to conclude that he was killed;
who thereupon set up a great shout, and the report of his death reached
Dublin, and even Paris. However, having his wound dressed, the prince
remounted his horse, and showed himself to his whole army, to dissipate
their apprehensions. He continued on horseback until four o'clock, dined
in the open field, and then mounted his favourite _Sorrel_ again, (for
so was the royal charger called,) although he had been abroad from one
in the morning. About the hour of nine at night he called a council of
war, and declared his determination to pass the river Boyne upon the
next day. Which resolve Duke Schomberg at first opposed; but finding the
king positive, he advised that part of the army, horse and foot, should
be sent that night towards the bridge of Slane, in order there to pass
the Boyne, and so advance between the enemy and the pass at Duleek. This
advice, which if followed would perhaps have ended the war in one
campaign, seemed at first to be relished; but it was afterwards opposed
by General de Ginckle, and the other Dutch general officers. Duke
Schomberg retired to his tent, where not long after the order of battle
was brought him, which he received with discontent and indifference,
observing, that _this was the first that ever was sent to him_. The
opinion of Schomberg was right; not to occupy the important pass of
Slane was certainly a strange omission in the tactics of the two
contending princes.

The Prince of Orange ordered that every soldier should be provided with
a sufficient stock of ammunition, and all the army to be ready to march
at break of day. And every man was to wear a green bough, or sprig,
pulled from the adjoining wood which overhung the ford, that they might
ascertain friends from foes during the fury of the fight. His Highness,
attended by torch-light, rode at the twelfth hour at night through his
camp, making his observations, and ascertaining that all was in
readiness for the important day that was now about to arrive. He gave
orders to his equery "to saddle blithe _Sorrel_ for the field
to-morrow!"

The watch-word of the prince that night was "Westminster." And as he was
retiring to his tent he said to the Prince of Denmark, "Our watch-word
to-night is '_Westminster_;' let our war-cry to-morrow be--'_Nassau and
Freedom!_'"

Having thus said, he saluted Prince George, and retired to repose.


                            END OF VOL. I.




Transcriber's Note: Advertisements that were placed at the beginning of
the book, have been moved to the end. The spelling and punctuation are
as printed in the original publication, with the following exceptions:

    hight is now high, mags is now mass, Schurmann is now Schurman,
    downfal is now downfall, vulsa is now vuesa, vicegerency is now
    viceregency, possitively is now positively, immemediately is now
    immediately, ignonorance is now ignorance, angy is now angry,
    occacasions is now occasions, and inuendos is now innuendos.

The oe ligature has been expanded.