Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Sue Fleming and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)









                                   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. II.

                                  LONDON:

                     FOR G. B. WHITTAKER, AVE MARIA LANE.

                                   1825.




                                   THE

                            EVE OF ALL-HALLOWS.




                                CHAPTER I.

    ----------------------------I have marshalled my men,
    Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one.
    They are true to the last, of their blood and their breath;
    And like reapers descend to the harvest of death.

                                                CAMPBELL.


Many a trumpet sounded forth the bold advance, and many a drum beat to
arms, and full many a heart throbbed high, upon the morning of the ever
memorable first of July, 1690. Then burst forth the signal-gun that
loudly pealed forth the approach of day, re-echoed by the woods and
waters of the Boyne. This signal was to announce to the troops of the
Prince of Orange instantly to commence their march as soon as summoned
by the cannon's roar. Their march was about three miles distant from the
margin of that stream which on this day was destined to become the
rubicon of empire!

The plan of attack, upon the part of the Prince of Orange, consisted of
three parts. We shall now begin with the first:--Count Menard Schomberg
(the son of Field Marshal Duke of Schomberg, and Commander-in-Chief
under the Prince of Orange) was to lead on the right wing towards the
westward of some fords which adjoined the bridge of Slane; the force
consisted chiefly of cavalry, and amounted to ten thousand men; Count
Schomberg commanded the cavalry, and Lieutenant General Douglas the
infantry. Their route to the ford, which it had been determined they
were to pass, lay through an unenclosed country, the grounds of which
were partly covered with low brush-wood, over which the horses sprung
with delight; and had the soldiers been clad in green a spectator might
have imagined he looked down on a hunting party, instead of beholding
an army upon the burst of battle; for, startled and roused from their
peaceful lair, numerous rabbits and hares were seen to jump forth from
beneath underwood, furze, fern, and heath; which soon set the soldiery
at fault, and who for the moment gave up (tumultuously dashing into the
merry greenwood) the hunting of men for chase of the leporine tribe; and
they were not brought back to a sense of duty until thrice the bugle of
recall had sounded; when having knocked on the head some hundreds of
these peaceful, harmless animals, the troops gave up the chase, which is
the symbol, for the dire reality of war.

They had now arrived on the margin of the Boyne, and upon the opposite
banks were entrenched King James and his army, consisting of English,
Scotch, Irish, and French troops. The latter were the experienced
veterans of Louis the Fourteenth, who had toiled and conquered in many a
desperate conflict.

The camp of King James was stationed thus:--On its right was the city of
Drogheda, filled with Irish soldiers: upon the further banks of the
Boyne, and to the eastward, their tents were extended in two parallel
lines, and protected by a deep morass, and on the left it was difficult
to be passed. In front of the camp were the fords of the Boyne deep and
dangerous, protected by rugged banks, and defended by some breast-works;
while the huts and hedges were lined with infantry on the rere; and at
some distance arose the church and village of Donore, upon whose
commanding heights King James in person was stationed. Three miles
further onward was the pass of Duleek, on which King James firmly
depended for a retreat, if such should be found wanting. The works
thrown up for the defence of the camp were strong, and well fortified in
front by the broad and deep waters of the Boyne; while the ditch, or
fosse, defending this position, was deep, and flanked with redoubts,
batteries, and pallisadoes.

The batteries of James kept up a brisk fire, pouring forth cannon-shot
upon the assailants, and not without due effect. This was to awe the
troops of Count Menard Schomberg, and incapacitate them from fording the
river. But it was not long erewhile that this deep salutation from the
cannon's mouth was duly responded to, and with correspondent effect, by
Count Schomberg, who, advancing to the margin of the ford, planted on
the spot three twenty-four pounders, which instantly commenced to fire
upon the enemy's intrenchments. This was soon again answered on their
part by five field-pieces returning the cannonade, which General
Sarsfield had mounted on his batteries. However, after an hour's heavy
and destructive cannonade, the superior weight of metal and calibre
irresistibly carried its expected success. Several of the French and
Irish artillery were killed; guns might then be seen dismounted, some
with their wheels broken, and others hurled from their carriages, all
thus rendered useless. Count Schomberg thus witnessing their batteries
to be effectually silenced, gave the signal for fording the Boyne; and
boldly and promptly dashed first onward at the head of his squadron, the
trumpets, drums, and kettle-drums, and all the accompanying bands,
striking forth their martial music, to which the waters of the Boyne
re-echoed. This was of course to encourage and arouse the ardour of his
troops, who, with a firm unbroken front, dashed impetuously into the
stream, as though it had been their natural element. The waters were
indeed deep, the infantry found them breast-high, and were compelled to
carry their muskets above their heads, to preserve them dry and fit for
service; while the horses of the cavalry were forced in many instances
to swim, the current of the river having been stopped by this sudden and
mighty influx of men and horses, which, as might have been expected,
raised the waters of the Boyne to an unusual height. In the mean time a
large squadron of infantry arrived on the opposite bank, who kept up a
galling fire, at which time some of the cavalry of King James plunged
into the stream to oppose the landing of the troops of the Prince of
Orange. It then became uproar, noise, and confusion, all the while
death was busy on the Boyne, and upon its opposite banks.

    "Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan!"

With the loss of many wounded, and in a greater ratio of others who were
slain, Count Menard Schomberg effected the landing of his troops; at
which time the dragoons of King James began incontinently to retreat
towards the main body, which was attended with very considerable loss.
The main body of King James's infantry was extended in two parallel
lines. Lieutenant General Douglas finding how matters stood, sent
promptly for a reinforcement of foot to extend his lines in a similar
manner; but this intention was impeded by the intervention of an
extensive bog to his left, which rendered it quite impossible for his
cavalry to pass; he therefore ordered them to defile to the right, and
the infantry to march in open column to the left, and then to pass the
bog, or morass, in single files. This passage of the troops was effected
below the bridge of Slane. And having now dispersed the troops which
opposed him, his object was to force his way to the ford of Duleek, so
that at once he might attack the enemy from behind, and totally cut off
his retreat at the same moment. King James perceiving Count Schomberg to
march for Slane, and great bodies of troops moving with him, concluded
that the whole army were taking the same route; and that the English and
Dutch troops, conscious of the difficulty of forcing the fords between
the camps, would not, thus circumstanced, dare to attempt them,
discouraged, as well they might be, from an expected attack on their
flank, in such an enterprise. However, should they attempt, and succeed,
he apprehended that his communication with Duleek might in the mean time
be cut off. Accordingly, under this full impression, King James sent
forward a great force to watch Count Schomberg, and by his doing so he
weakened his principal force. The Count Schomberg, in consequence of
these improvident movements of his opponent, found but little opposition
to his ulterior passage of the ford, soon dispersing the few troops
which had soonest arrived to oppose him; and then he dashed on with his
infantry, and boldly floundered through the bog; while he sent his
cavalry round over a narrow tract of firm ground. The boldness of which
action completely discouraged his opponents; in consequence of which
they rapidly retreated to Duleek.

We are now come to the _second_ part of the attack, as devised and
planned by the Prince of Orange. The moment that the prince was informed
that Count Schomberg had passed the ford, and had accomplished the
landing of his troops, although his Highness had long been quite
prepared to ford the river, yet the information which he received of the
complete success of Count Schomberg increased his desire to commence the
march, which he instantly began. He was attended by Duke Schomberg, who
was to command the centre of the army. The Dutch Guards, in their blue
jackets and orange facings, first plunged into the waters of the Boyne.
The Brandenburghers at the same instant, impelled by national
competition, dashed also simultaneously into the stream, led on by
their gallant colonel.

The Dutch Guards, who thus led on the van of battle, were broadly
exposed to the fire of their enemies, whose lines were intrenched along
the opposite heights of the Boyne, and also by several battalions
stationed upon the banks beneath. These troops of King James not only
resisted on the banks, but plunging into the stream, manfully opposed
the approach of the infantry of the Prince of Orange. But the troops of
his Highness, even while in the river, fired a grand discharge of
musketry, which instantaneously checked their opponents. Here a
chivalrous combat for the standard of green Erin, fought for in the very
bosom of the Boyne, is worthy of being recorded, while

    "Advanced--forced back, now low, now high,
     The pennon sunk and rose."[1]

    [1] Marmion.

The standard of the golden harp was borne by Cornet Hamilton, nephew to
Major General Hamilton, and an officer in the General's regiment of
horse. The combat for the armorial banner was sustained by a brave
officer of the Brandenburghers, who seemed determined at every risk to
possess the standard, and place it as a trophy at the feet of the Prince
of Orange. The conflict was fought with desperate fury; they fought in
the flood--they fought at the ford; they next landed on the banks, and
fought upon the verdant shores of the Boyne. Here Hamilton, dreading to
lose the banner he had so gallantly defended, tore the banner from the
standard-staff, (it was the work of only a moment,) and instantly
wrapped the banner around his body, while with earnest enthusiasm he
exclaimed:--

    By death alone shall Erin's harp be won,
    And through the life-blood of her faithful son!

The dreadful personal combat now recommenced, and in the fierce and
astounding shock of the charge, the sword of Hamilton was shivered in
twain; and within the same moment, from the overpowering shock and
impetus of the charge, both the combatants instantaneously were flung,
horse and rider, to the ground. They now arose upon equal terms, for
both were disarmed; but still they met, while each with daring
desperation contended for the prize; foot opposed to foot, knee to knee,
and arm to arm! For some time they strenuously contended with doubtful
success; but soon the Brandenburgh officer was upon the point of
success, when Cornet Hamilton, with deep determined desperation, aided
by bodily strength, instantly seized upon the Brandenburgher, and with
all resistless force plunged himself and his adversary into the waters
of the Boyne, from whence neither ever more were seen to rise! And it
was horrifying to hear the splash of the gurgling waters into which the
brave combatants, fighting with an unsubduable valour, sunk entombed,
never more to rise! and this amid the applauding shouts, or rather
shrieks, of either contending army, who had meantime given a pause to
the battle; while intently gazed both friend and foe, with wonder, awe,
and admiration, upon such a determined deadly feat of chivalry! seldom
equalled, and probably never surpassed, neither in the annals of war,
nor amid the feats and fictions of chivalry!

The Duke of Tyrconnel gallantly headed and led on his own regiment of
dragoon guards in headlong charge, with signal bravery, and not without
due effect. At length, however, the duke was repulsed, and his charger
which he rode was shot dead, and fell with his manly master to the
ground. However, he was soon seen mounted again, having arisen without
hurt from the earth, and briskly vaulted on a led horse of his own,
which was conducted instantly to him by his groom from the rere of the
regiment. The Irish troops were, at this period of the battle, thrown
into some confusion, and compelled unwillingly to retire. But the duke
conducted the retreat in a masterly and gallant manner. Soon after this
the English and Danish troops, with the brigades of Sir John Hanmer and
Melionère, immediately followed, and passed the ford without
opposition. The cause assigned for this disposition of the forces was
this:--that the Prince of Orange well knew that both the Dutch and
Brandenburghers were warmly attached to his person, and he felt
convinced that the Huguenots and Enniskilliners were as deeply attached
to their religion. But the Danes at that time he did not as yet
sufficiently know; and much he feared to oppose the English forces who
now supported the princely James, their lawful sovereign, and who had
formerly commanded them, as now he did, in person.

Field Marshal Duke of Schomberg, who was most anxious, yet at the same
time doubtful of success, thinking the attempt a desperate one, still
firmly retained his station, surrounded by a strong body of troops, in
order to yield assistance wherever most it was wanted. The French troops
of King James now seemed to start from the earth, for hitherto they had
remained undiscovered; but now they arose upon the sight from among the
little hills, appearing far more numerous than what they really were.
This deception arose from the circumstance of their gradually, and at
intervals, arising to view from the brush-wood, thickets, and ditches,
where they lay stationed; and furthermore from the extension of their
ranks, from the interposition of trees, walls, and hedges, and the
intervention of houses, hamlets, and other objects, which had hitherto
obscured them.

Major General Hamilton, at the head of his own regiment of dragoons,
made a truly gallant charge, while fiercely he attacked the squadron of
the Danes, and withal with such vigour and success, that they soon fled
back incontinently through the river. Hamilton's cavalry, and that of
the Count de Lauzun, meanwhile pursued them, and having briskly chased
them, but without effect, as soon they returned, and then fell furiously
upon the French Huguenots, who having no pikes to sustain the dreadful
charge, their ranks of infantry were instantly broken through. Here
suddenly the cry arising of "_horse! horse!_" (of which to support them
they were in great want) having been mistaken for "_halt! halt!_" still
further threw the centre of the squadron of the Prince of Orange into
great disorder. The Dutch?--They _halted_ indeed, and with a vengeance.
The Huguenot ranks were broken through, while slowly the English succour
advanced; and the Danes, without even waiting to be attacked, wheeled
somewhat precipitately "right about," then fled panic-struck, and
plunged into the Boyne to effect a retreat. Not slow, however, were some
companies of Hamilton's dragoons to pursue, who promptly dashed into the
river to cut off a retreat.

At this point of the battle, the brave, the intrepid Callimotè, who in
person commanded his valiant corps of Huguenots--he who had been the
faithful partner of the toils and victories, and partaker of the glories
of Schomberg in former battles--at this moment was cut down by one of
Hamilton's horse. He had indeed received a mortal wound! He fell, but
was soon upraised by his brave soldiers; and while they bore him away,
bleeding even to death, in their arms, still strong and deep in agony
was heard the hero's voice. He called aloud to his brave companions in
the battle, "_A la gloire, mes enfans--à la gloire!_" and while thus
exclaiming, he died in the arms of his valiant comrades! Thus nobly sunk
this valiant man. He died a hero, and fell as the brave should fall,
shouting even in death the cry of victory! Meanwhile Duke Schomberg was
distinctly seen spurring onward his noble charger even in the deepest
part of the Boyne, encouraging and calling aloud upon the Huguenots to
rally, and accompanying this with his gesture, his voice, and his sword.
His strenuous and manly exertions were beheld and heard in vain, for no
succour advanced!

Hamilton's cavalry, a second time breaking through the ranks of the
flying Huguenots, wounded Duke Schomberg in the engagement, and hurried
him along; when his own troops firing at the duke through mistake, he
fell lifeless from his war-horse.

Hamilton's terrific charge on the part of the Irish, and the relief
brought to reinforce the Duke of Schomberg's squadron, on the other,
gave time to both sides to rally, and prepare for a renewed engagement.
The Duke of Tyrconnel performed prodigies of valour. He here had a
second horse shot under him while sustaining this dreadful conflict.

We must now come to the _third_ part of the battle, as it was arranged
(as we have before premised) by the Prince of Orange.

During the two former attacks every where was to be seen the blue and
orange plumes of Nassau waving over flood and field! Now also every
where was he to be seen quickly to rush into danger, riding rapidly from
place to place, examining every regiment and troop, exhorting and
inspiring them by look, gesture, and action. The soldiers were well
pleased at this attention; they were flattered and animated, every man
considering himself under the immediate inspection of his royal leader,
while every motion and manoeuvre his counsel, conduct, and courage
directed.

The Prince of Orange led on the left wing of the army, accompanied by
Prince George of Denmark, and they passed the Boyne at the ford of Old
Bridge, between the army of James and the town of Drogheda; and it was
not without difficulty that this measure was accomplished. Here the
charger of the Prince of Orange got entangled in a bog or morass at the
other side of the river, where he had landed, and where he was forced to
alight until one of the royal attendants succeeded in extricating
"Sorrel" (for so was the royal charger named) from his entanglement in
the morass, and assisted the prince to remount.

As soon as all the troops had passed over the Boyne water, and were put
in some order, the Prince of Orange commanded them to march; and
constantly was he seen upon the alert, with his large conspicuous
triangular hat and nodding plumes, urging "Sorrel" in full gallop at the
head of his cavalry, his sword drawn, and his wounded arm freed from the
scarf which had supported it. He waved his sword on high, and encouraged
and inflamed the soldiery to battle.

At this sight the troops of King James manifested a disposition to
retreat. King James, however, endeavoured by every method and persuasion
he could use to rally his men, while loudly he repeatedly called out to
them,

    "On, on ye brave!"

while to his general officers he expressed his fixed determination "to
make a bold and resolute effort for the recovery of his throne; for
_that all the hopes of his restoration depended upon the result of that
day_!"

The Prince of Orange now despatched twelve battalions and nine squadrons
to strengthen his right wing, and placed himself at the head of the left
wing of his army. The right, as we have before observed, was commanded
by Count Menard Schomberg; the centre by Field-Marshal Duke of
Schomberg, and the left by William.

In the meantime all the forces of King James, except the detachment
which had retired to Duleek, promptly gathered from all quarters, and
formed a firm and formidable phalanx around their king. Here the battle
raged loud and stormy, but with various success, for about an hour,
representing both to the eye and ear all the horrors of civil and
foreign war commingled. Here waved in the breeze the silver lilies of
France; there undulated the silver harp of Erin, the golden lion of old
merry England; and the Scottish unicorn, with the bordure of the
thistle; next the Belgic lion in refulgent gold; then the dark, black
eagle of Brandenburgh, with the ominous raven of Denmark, all waving in
the morning breeze, and in the fierce discordant attack shaken to and
fro, like the woods of some ancient forest. Here, and every where,
resounded the languages of France, England, Holland, Denmark, Germany,
and Ireland--all spoken promiscuously. May we then not observe, what a
scene was there combined! withal the various and varied nations, their
troops' uniforms consisting of various and discordant hues, all
combining and forming the different tints of the rainbow, including many
_ultra_ and even _plus-ultra_ dyes of the arc of heaven!--green, blue,
black, yellow, scarlet, and some undefinable colours. The varied look
that caught the eye, and the varied language that irresistibly reached
the ear, rendered this ever most remarkable battle-scene truly another
Babel! While Frenchmen fought against their fellow-subjects in some
quarters of the field--while in others brave Britons contended against
Britons--and, alas! the sons of unhappy Ireland fought against each
other in opposing ranks!--Oh, the reflection was dreadful!

At this period of the battle Tyrconnel defeated the English, who were
commanded by General De Ginckle, and who thereupon suddenly retreated.
The Prince of Orange, perceiving what Tyrconnel had done, rallied the
English cavalry, and remonstrated with them upon their flight. When thus
urged, they rushed again upon the charge, and not without some success.

The Prince of Orange brought up his Dutch cavalry and the Enniskilliners
to support the charge; his Highness then wheeled to the left, and the
Enniskilliners, through mistake, did the same. Upon this the prince
galloped furiously to the right, and drew up his Dutch troops. The
Enniskilliners upon this became conscious of the mistake which they
involuntarily had committed, and they instantly reoccupied their ground,
and fought resolutely.

At this momentous crisis of the battle, the brave Tyrconnel strained
every nerve to support the troops under his command. He galloped in
front, and from flank to rere, while every where he exhorted,
encouraged, and animated the troops, as onward he galloped through the
ranks.

      "Rise, might of Erin, rise!
      Now on the foes' astonish'd eyes
      Let thy proud ensigns wave dismay!
      Here let the thunder of thy battle roll,
    And bear the palm of strength and victory away!"

Here Tyrconnel encountered the Brandenburgh cavalry, with their gallant
colonel at their head, who, not unobserved by Tyrconnel, throughout that
well-fought field performed prodigies of valour. The duke and colonel
met, and closed in single combat, managing the broad sword with
equal--nay, with consummate skill; when a private of the
Brandenburghers, perceiving that the duke had the advantage of his
leader, presently levelling his carbine, and aiming at Tyrconnel, he
suddenly fired it off. The duke escaped, but his noble charger fell, and
flung with tremendous force to the earth the hero whom he had borne. In
an instant the colonel was on his feet, and raised his gallant opponent
in his arms.

"Brave and truly noble colonel! accept my warm and grateful thanks for
this truly generous and heroic act; and permit me, at the same time, to
know to whom I am so much, so highly indebted?"

"Noble duke," rejoined the valiant stranger, "for such I know you to be,
indeed you much overrate my service. However, at some future time, more
propitious than the present, my name shall be divulged to you; at the
present moment I have reasons quite sufficient to cause me to decline
the explanation which you require. But you shall have two pledges, and
from a true knight, for the fulfilment of my promise, solemnly made in
the battle-field!"

He then loudly called to his equerry: "Ho! Malcolm, bring Fergus from
the rere!" While on the instant the equerry advanced, bringing a noble
Hanoverian charger of a beautiful cream colour, who loudly snorted,
neighed, and proudly pawed the ground. The stately animal was ready
caparisoned for the field.

The colonel next took a ring from off his finger; it was an antique
cameo, exquisitely sculptured; the gem was a ruby of immense value; the
subject was the genius of Victory crowning Hercules.

"This," said the colonel, "you must permit me to place on your hand, as
an humble mark of my esteem and admiration of the brave who belong to
every country. This and my trusty charger are the gages for the
fulfilment of my promise."

"In return," replied the duke, "noble and generous stranger," at the
same moment taking from out his bosom a diamond star, which was appended
to a chain of gold, "receive this diamond star!" And flinging it with
much grace around the colonel's neck, he added: "Wear this for sake of
me! This morning it was given me by my king, who commanded me to place
it around the bravest neck and the boldest heart I should this day meet
in the field."

"Then," rejoined the stranger, "you should have reserved it for your
own, and have allowed it to remain; for where it _was_ placed it best
became!"

"Not so, gallant Sir," resumed the duke, "my beloved sovereign's
mandates I have now faithfully fulfilled."

Here the bugles of the contending squadrons pealed forth "a recall," and
the duke of Tyrconnel and the Colonel of the Brandenburghers parted,
highly and mutually pleased, and earnestly hoping yet to meet. Having
warmly shaken hands, the duke adroitly vaulted on the Hanoverian
steed--it was the third which he had mounted on that bloody day! And
when both were on horseback, they once more cordially shook hands,
while each with much regret bade the other adieu!

Throughout this momentous battle Tyrconnel had performed prodigies of
valour: he was every where to be seen, every where to be heard; his
rallying voice and look remonstrating with and encouraging the timid and
wavering, while gallantly he led on the brave to the charge. During this
deadly fight he lost three horses, which were shot beneath him, as has
been already mentioned. But still undismayed, he each time returned to
the charge; and if the crown of King James possibly could have been
preserved by the talents, loyalty, affection, and invincible courage of
an individual, it would have been fully secured by the firmness and
fidelity of Tyrconnel.

    --------------------"Si Pergama dextrâ
    Defendi possent, etiam hâc defensa fuissent!"

During the heat of the action at Old Bridge one of the Dutch dragoons of
the Prince of Orange rode up, and not knowing his person, clapped a
pistol to his head. "What!" calmly observed the prince, and with much
presence of mind, "what! do you not know your friends?"

The Count de Lauzun held firm for a considerable time in the village of
Old Bridge, although his troops were severely galled with the shells
which were incessantly poured against them from the mortars which the
Prince of Orange had planted at the entrance of the village. The count's
force was principally composed of French troops. At length, being
overpowered, he was reluctantly compelled to yield; however, he retired
in good order, leaving numbers of his opponents dead upon the field of
battle.

Major-General Hamilton, of whose exploits we have already made
honourable mention, was certainly, it must be allowed by all, an
experienced commander, and a brave soldier. He headed his cavalry in
conjunction with the Irish infantry, who were allotted to protect the
ford of Duleek. Several attempts hitherto, but in vain, were made upon
the enemy's post to force the ford; but now they were compelled to yield
to superior numbers. General Hamilton, upon finding that matters stood
thus, placed himself at the head of the cavalry who were to cooperate
with his infantry, fought with fierce and obstinate courage in repelling
the assailants; but being wounded in the head by a sabre blow, he was
taken prisoner. The right wing of the Irish upon this event gave way,
and they retired from the hedges and ditches, &c. where they had been
intrenched, and retreated across a bog to Duleek, where they attempted
to rally. But upon hearing that the left wing of their army was defeated
at Old Bridge, they gave way, and again retreated, leaving the pass at
Duleek undefended. Upon this, without losing the moment of advantage,
the Prince of Orange placed his troops in order, and directed a general
pursuit from all quarters. The close pressure of the enemy, the
consequent hurry of the flight, and the determination of the pursuers,
prevented the troops of King James from defending the pass at Duleek,
and the victory became complete and decided upon the part of King
William--which title he had now obtained by the sword; and then
tumultuous cries were heard shouting through the air, of "Nassau and
victory!--_Vive le Roy Guillaume!--Vive le hèros Guillaume!--Orange
Boven!--Een overwinnaar Boven al!_" &c. &c.

King William pursued with promptitude the flying troops of James, and
committed slaughter, chasing them four miles beyond Duleek. Night coming
on put a termination to the pursuit, and the pursuers were ordered to
return. They took possession of booty to a large amount, an extensive
train of baggage, chariots, waggons, horses, arms, and ammunition. All
the night the army of William stood to their arms. In this well fought
battle the Irish lost three thousand men; King William lost about one
thousand. The persons of note who were killed among the former army were
the Marquis d'Hackinkourt, Lord Dungannon, Lord Carlingford, and Sir
Neal O'Neal. Upon the part of King William was slain Field Marshal the
Duke of Schomberg, the wisest, bravest, and the greatest captain of the
age, and at the advanced age of seventy years this brave and valiant
hero fell! The brave Callimotè also was killed, and gloriously at the
head of his regiment, as has been already observed. At this battle also
was slain the celebrated and Reverend George Walker, who had so
gallantly defended Derry; he was killed a few steps behind King William.
When the account of his death was brought to the king, His Majesty said,
"Fool that he was, what had he to do here?" "Words," as Sir John
Dalrymple justly remarks, "which dishonoured the living, not the dead!"

The passage of the Boyne by King William was an enterprise certainly the
most courageous that history can attest; and however great and glorious
was that day's victory, yet, nevertheless, dearly was it purchased in
having cost the life of Field Marshal Schomberg. Throughout this arduous
and bloody day King William received no manner of hurt, although he was
actively engaged in the height of the action. However, a cannon ball
carried away a piece of his coat; but he received no wound in
consequence. Throughout this eventful fight he was seen to chase the
field, to dispose and arrange every attack, and several times to lead on
the charge; and whenever his troops began to shrink, he was instantly
observed to rally and support them, displaying upon every occasion firm
conduct, courage, and determined resolution.

King James had been often heard to declare, that "he was born to be the
sport of fortune!" But had he acted differently from what he did at the
battle of the Boyne, he would have placed himself above the reach of
fortune; had he determinedly mingled in the fight, and had he animated
his troops every where and upon all occasions by his presence and
example, instead of looking on, as latterly he did, a tame and timid
spectator from the church of Donore; in a word, had his nerves been as
firm as the hands and hearts of his Irish subjects were true, then
indeed all his hopes and fondest expectations of his restoration might
have been fully realized.

King William (in historic truth we must admit) did all that man,
statesman, or general, could do, to win over to his cause the Duke of
Tyrconnel. But the duke was too true, too just, too firm, and too
loyally fond of his royal master, to be tampered with, or even to give
an ear to the proffered corruption. No! "he was true to the last."

The fate of this important battle was decided in a great degree by its
locality; for, however strange it may appear, both parties had neglected
to occupy the pass or ford of Slane. King William advanced in three
columns to the opposite banks of the river, reconnoitred, and adjusted
his plan of operation, determining to attack by the right and centre.

On the morning of the battle, in pursuance of this determination, he
detached a corps to pass by Slane. This force arrived sooner at its
destination than that sent by King James, who quickly saw his error when
it was too late to counteract it. The curve of the river there forced
the troops of James to make a considerable _detour_, whereby time was
given to William's detachment to arrive and seize the pass before they
could effect it; which having forded, and then formed, they advanced on
the left of the army of James, and extending their lines to the right,
they turned it, notwithstanding a morass in its front, by which
manoeuvre it was compelled to fall back in confusion towards Duleek.
William so judiciously had combined his attack, that his centre was to
pass precisely at the time that his right should completely have engaged
the left of the army of King James. When that took place, his centre
column advanced against Old Bridge, and his left proceeded to the
fordes, which having passed, they obtained the opposite banks at the
projecting curve of the Boyne; they then formed at that point, and
received an attack from the right and centre of James, which having
fully repulsed, they advanced. In consequence of which movement the army
of James fell back in the distance of two miles to the heights of
Donore, where they formed, and then they again advanced to the charge;
but the cavalry of William having, in obedience to his orders,
completely turned their left, the fortune of the day was irretrievable,
and they were thus compelled to fall back with considerable loss to
Duleek, behind which station once more they rallied.

We certainly think that too much praise cannot indeed be possibly given
to the brave and faithful Irish who so manfully supported King James,
however undeserving he might have been of that support. They acted
according to their conscience--according to their religion--and devoted
to their sovereign, as they were, by their sworn allegiance. Their
lawful, but unfortunate king, threw himself into the arms of his Irish
subjects for protection and a restoration to his rights; they instantly
thronged around the royal standard. Although certainly James was wholly
undeserving of this support, from his tyranny and oppression--"not fit"
indeed "to govern," but we cannot say "not fit to live;" yet still his
various arbitrary measures--his confinement of the seven bishops in the
tower of London--his cruel and ill advised Bill of Attainder in the
Irish Parliament--his reversal of the Act of Settlement, and various
other despotic acts, which impartial justice must ever assuredly
condemn;--yet still let History inscribe on the bright margin of her
page, and record down to the remotest point of time, the love,
affection, fidelity, and allegiance of a nation (but too often rashly
and unjustly condemned) upon whom the royal exile had flung himself, as
on a dear but desperate hope--a _dernièr resort_--and upon whose hearts
and arms he relied as the forlorn hope of his crown, dignity, and
restoration!

Let history hand down this, while it must not be denied that of this
protection and support James was in every respect wholly undeserving;
for in two words his character may be told--he was a bigot and a tyrant!

James having ungenerously, as unjustly, thrown some reflections on the
courage of his Irish troops, observing to some of his general officers,
"that he would never again trust his cause to an Irish army;" with much
spirit they replied: "That throughout the fight their troops had acted
no inglorious part, though unanimated by a princely leader; that while
William shared danger in common with his army, encouraging them with his
presence, by his voice, and by his example, yet that King James stood
aloof at a secure distance, the quiet spectator of a contest on the
result of which depended his crown and realms!" And then, with deep and
wounded indignation at such ingratitude, they nobly exclaimed:
"_Exchange kings! and once more we shall fight the battle again!_" A
more noble burst of deeply taunted feelings and justly aroused
indignation than this cannot be found in history.

The title of King William to the throne of these realms was the choice
of the people, from whom the sovereign power emanated: and in whatever
point of view the Revolution of 1688 may be considered, it cannot be,
however, denied, so long as truth exists, that it was most important to
the religious and civil liberty of three kingdoms; and, moreover, it
established an important _dictum_, or principle, in the Constitution,
then hitherto unknown, defining the duties of the monarch and of the
subject, and holding forth to both prince and people the immutable and
immortal truth, THAT ALLEGIANCE AND PROTECTION ARE RECIPROCAL
OBLIGATIONS!




                               CHAPTER II.

    -------------------------Dread echoes shall ring
    With the blood-hounds that bark for thy fugitive king;
    Anointed by heav'n with the vials of wrath,
    Behold where he flies on his desolate path.

                                           CAMPBELL.


Throughout the entire night previous to the battle of the Boyne, fearful
forebodings and dismal auguries preyed upon the superstitious mind of
King James. An owl had perched upon the apex of the royal pretorium, or
pavilion, which incessantly hooted mournfully throughout the live-long
night; and at break of day, when the army commenced its march, a flight
of ravens, the ill-omened birds of augury, accompanied and every where
pursued the royal standard, cawing, and wheeling around it in
continuous circles; and whenever it became stationary, they winged their
hovering flight above it in mid-air, while it waved in the breeze. The
same night the royal standard which streamed at Dublin Castle, from
Birmingham Tower, and which had been neglected in not having been taken
down at the royal departure, was rent in shivers from the force of the
storm which that night raged impetuously; and the gilt crown, which had
blazed on the top of the standard-staff, was hurled off into an
adjoining cemetery. Strange and unearthly noises were heard; and the
mournful wail of the banshee was distinctly heard, even amid the howling
of the storm; for such were the superstitions of those days, and in
which even many of the wise believed!

The troops of King James returned back to the Irish capital, but not, as
they had gone forth to battle, elate with hope, and flushed with the
expectance of victory. No, they returned with the hurried haste of a
rapid rout; while the crimsoned blush of indignant shame and defeat in
each visage as it passed, was too fully apparent to the scrutinizing
spectator. Fatigue and lassitude seemed somewhat, however, to retard, if
not paralize, the return of the troops; while vexation and
disappointment were deeply impressed in every look and motion, from the
general to the private soldier, which too manifestly told that they had
returned covered with defeat, not crowned with victory!

With all the rancour of fanatic rage, and all the ferocity of atrocious
civil war, the troops of King William pursued the royal fugitive. And
history is wholly silent as to whether any royal mandate was issued to
spare the life of King James, the father of Mary, who was the wife of
William!

For upwards of four hours, like a pack of ravening hounds tracking the
scent of blood, the soldiery continued to pursue at the heels of the
fugitives; and not satiated with the carnage of the victory which they
had achieved, having strewed the field of battle with three thousand
slain, and with which slaughter they might have been fully satiated.
However, when the army ceased to pursue the fugitives, it was not from
a desire to desist, but from a physical inability to proceed, having
become wholly exhausted from the toil of battle, and fatigue of pursuit.
And under this conviction, King William gave the troops an entire day to
recover from the hardships which they had undergone.

King James, as he retired from the defeat, broke down all the bridges in
his rere; which act arose from the suggestions of the French
officers,[2] who, impatient to revisit their own country, hurried him
from Ireland, and added wings to his fears. As soon as King James had
returned to the Castle of Dublin, a letter awaited him from Louis the
Fourteenth's own hand, in which the French monarch informed James of the
victory of Fleurus, which had put it in his power to draw his garrisons
from Flanders to the coast; and also told of the station which his fleet
had taken, and prevented his enemies from succouring each other. In this
letter Louis urged him instantly to sail for France, and to leave the
conduct of the war to his generals, with direct orders to protract it;
and promised to land him in England with thirty thousand men. A letter
which, while it filled James with hopes, covered him at the same time
with mortification, when he reflected upon the contrast between his own
situation and that of his ally.

    [2] Sir John Dalrymple's Memoirs of England, Scotland, and
    Ireland.

It is a curious, but undoubted circumstance, that all the dispositions
made at the battle of the Boyne by King James, were counting upon
defeat, not on victory; for with a presaging mind he reflected that all
the precautions which he had taken were contrived to make retreat less
dangerous, but not to improve on victory. It was with the same
melancholy and ominous foreboding, that previous to the battle he
thought proper to despatch Sir Patrick Trant, a commissioner of the
Irish revenue, to prepare for him a ship at Waterford, that in case of
defeat he might secure his retreat to France![3]

    [3] Rapin's History of England.

The Duke of Tyrconnel, who had fully resolved not to abandon the fallen
fortunes of his generous, but unfortunate king, made immediate and
prompt preparation for accompanying his sovereign into exile; and he
proceeded with this intent accordingly to take a tender farewell of his
duchess, his beloved daughter, and his sisters. He determined that the
duchess, Adelaide, and his sisters, should immediately depart from
Ireland, and proceed to the continent; and he recommended that Brussels
should be the city where, ultimately, they were to sojourn until more
propitious and peaceful times should arrive. To Sir Patricius Placebo,
upon whose known fidelity and prudence he felt every reliance, he
intrusted these dear pledges to his guidance and protection, and
strongly advised and urged their immediate departure for Parkgate, in
one of the royal yachts; they were to travel in as private a manner as
might be; and having staid a few days with their friends the Bishop of
Chester and Mrs. Cartwright, in the ancient city of _Deva_,[4] (as
Chester was called when in possession of the Romans,) in order to
recover from the fatigue of their voyage; and then they were to proceed
to the most convenient and safe port in England, from whence they were
to embark for the Netherlands.

    [4] Chester was also called _Devana_ by the Romans, and here the
    "_legio vicessima victrix_" was stationed.

The time of departure now approached, King James's saddle-horses,
travelling carriages, his suite and servants, &c. were now all in
readiness in the upper castle-yard. The duke, who had been some time
sitting with his family, now arose to attend a council, and then to
depart with his royal master. He looked mournful and desponding, while
cordially and affectionately he bade farewell to his beloved family.

"Go!" said the duchess, in a melancholy accent, but accompanied with a
fixed and determined look; "Go, my dear lord, where duty, allegiance,
and affection call you, and where your king may well command your
presence. Go, and may the same Almighty power that so often hath saved
thy life in battle, still guide, protect, and guard thee upon the seas,
and in distant lands! But the wife of Tyrconnel breathes no sigh!--the
wife of Tyrconnel shall shed no tear at her loved lord's departure! Now
a fallen and hapless sovereign well may claim thy presence, for in the
summer and sunshine of his fortune he forgot thee not! Indeed hadst
thou, my lord, neglected to depart, and to have remained here
ingloriously at home, then assuredly there would have been too meet
occasion for a wife's sorrow, to witness a husband's shame! But no;--the
soul of Tyrconnel shrinks from the touch or thought of aught that is
base and ignoble. I will only therefore say, (while she fondly embraced
the duke,) my dearest lord--farewell, and still remember me, and mine,
and thine!"

The duchess supported this affecting scene with much calmness--nay, with
firmness; however, it was apparent that she forcibly subdued, and had
conquered her feelings on the occasion.

But it was not so with Adelaide, who wept bitterly while her parents
vainly endeavoured to repress those tears which then deeply burst forth,
which made her beauteous face more lovely still. Adelaide affectionately
doated upon both her parents, who were all tenderness and affection to
her: but particularly she loved her father; she was his daily companion
in his rides and in his walks. No wonder then, indeed, that Adelaide
should be the delight of his eye, and the pride and the happiness of his
heart!

The parting of friends is proverbially ever more or less affecting; our
minds misgive us, for we know not but this departure of those we love
may prove the last. And thus indelibly is associated the feeling and
apprehension, that _in this world_ we _may_ not ever meet again!

Immediately previous to the departure of King James from Dublin, on his
route for Waterford to embark for France, the king held a council, when
the Duke of Tyrconnel formally surrendered to him his patent as chief
governor of Ireland, which King James graciously accepted of. The
magistracy and common council of the city of Dublin were then
introduced, and presented agreeably to the royal command, when King
James stated to them, "That he had caused their attendance upon that
day, previous to his departure, in consequence of its having been
reported to him that upon the event of his departure from the city, and
upon King William's approach, it was intended that the city should be
given up to plunder, and destroyed by fire."

Among other matters his concluding words were: "I do therefore charge
you, by your allegiance, that you neither rifle the city by plunder, nor
destroy it by fire; but to your best preserve the peace and tranquillity
of this great city."

Having said this, he bowed most affably and king-like to all, and then
retired.

Without any further delay King James instantly ordered his suite to draw
up at the grand portal of the castle-hall; and this being obeyed, he
descended the great stair-case. He was attired in a round beaver hat,
surmounted by a large waving plume of ostrich feathers, which were dyed
of a crimson colour; he wore a flowing peruke; a leather doublet, richly
gilt and embossed, was his dress. The ribbon of the garter flowed
gracefully from the right shoulder, while on his left breast sparkled a
small embroidered star of the garter; his flowing neck-handkerchief, of
rich lace, was tucked under the front of the doublet. He wore large
military gloves, with the Vandyke termination. His small-clothes
corresponded with the doublet, terminating with castellated trappings at
the knees; and on his feet he wore sandals, or royal _talaria_, richly
laced, with the Vandyke point; nearly a fac-simile of which may be seen
in an engraving of Le-Bas, from the celebrated painting of _l'Enfant
Prodigue_ of Teniers: while over his majestic shoulders was flung a
royal roquelaire of rich crimson velvet, lined with ermine, and clasped
in front with a gold fibula, richly studded with diamonds.

The unfortunate James forthwith approached his Normandy charger, which
having borne him from defeat, was now destined to bear him on his way
to exile from the throne of his fathers! He now with great grace and
facility adroitly and majestically mounted his steed, and uncovering his
head, and gracefully bowing to all, set out on his melancholy way,
surrounded by his general officers and staff, proceeding on his return
to France, a second time to seek an asylum at St. Germains.

He had just passed through Dame-gate, (now no more existing,) and which
led into the present crowded thoroughfare of Dame-street--at least such
it had been previous to the fatal and destructive union of the two
legislatures of Great Britain and Ireland--when two men of the vulgar
description of lounging blackguards that formerly infested the streets
of Dublin, (whose number fortunately has decreased, is hourly
decreasing, and is at the present point of time duly diminished, if not
wholly eradicated,) impudently here advanced, and were of that
description which might be called half wits and whole knaves, with a
tongue glib at joke or slander, and a hand alert and adroit in cleaning
a shoe, as it was prompt and tricky in picking a pocket. These fellows
now commenced whistling, tenor and counter-tenor, but in a subdued
measure, the tune of "Lilli burlero."[5] This was evidently not music to
the royal ear, for it was quite fully apparent that it deeply annoyed
the royal James. The Duke of Tyrconnel immediately intimated to the
officer of dragoons who rode with him, to order the trumpets to peal
forth a loyal note; which was instantly done, and "Lilli burlero" soon
was silenced. The reader may possibly recollect that this song attached
a large portion of unpopularity and ridicule to the cause of King James,
against whom and the Duke of Tyrconnel this lampoon was written. It has
been attributed to Lord Wharton, but we are rather inclined to ascribe
this satirical song to Lord Bath.

    [5] This ballad will be found in the second volume of "Bishop
    Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, page 405." And it will
    no doubt be recollected by the reader that the celebrated Sterne
    makes this tune to be the favourite air of Uncle Toby in "Tristram
    Shandy." In speaking of this ballad, Bishop Percy remarks, that
    "the following rhymes, slight and insignificant as they now may
    seem, had once a more powerful effect than either the Philippic of
    Demosthenes or Cicero; and contributed not a little towards the
    great revolution in 1688."

As the unfortunate monarch rode along, the tradesmen in the principal
streets through which he was to pass, had caused all their shop windows
to be closed; a silent, but impressive and delicate, tribute to fallen
greatness! James deeply felt it. "Generous nation!" thought he, "much
have I wronged you, but now you forget it all. You have indeed shed your
best and bravest blood in my defence; and now on my fall, and my final
departure, you pay me this last, silent, but sincere, tribute of regret
at my departure. Oh, indeed I never shall--never can forget you!"

Having passed through the city of Dublin and the adjoining villages, the
royal fugitive proceeded in his flight, and soon reached the borders of
the county of Dublin. Here, beneath a vast cromlech, was seen seated an
ancient harper, his long thin grey locks streaming in the breeze; he
heeded not the royal cavalcade as they were passing along, but still
continued playing on his harp a mournful melody, sad and solemn as the
_Cath Eachroma_. Meanwhile King James had reined in his Normandy steed
to listen to the song. The bard again commenced in a measure, _dólce ed
affettuóso_, the following

                                 BALLAD.

    I heard them repining for Erin declining,
    Her shamrock entwining the conqueror's sword;
    Misfortune combining, his crown James resigning,
    His laurels all blasted at Boyne's fatal ford!

    Lo! neglected her lyre, whose magical fire
    Rous'd princes and chieftains in battle array;
    Erin's minstrels and bards indignant expire,
    They saw not, survived not, their country's decay!

    Wherever I wander I mournful ponder,
    Lamenting the issue of Boyne's woful fray;
    O Erin, my country! no lover loved fonder,
    Tho' fame with thy freedom have parted asunder;
    Like summer clouds fleeting at close of the day,
    Their glories fast fading in twilight away!

King James did not appear, in sooth, to be overcharmed with this
mournful ditty; and having hasty recourse to his spur, he pressed onward
his gallant courser; when dropping one of his stirrups, like Jason of
yore, of Argonautic fame; in this expedition the king lost one of his
sandals, or royal _talaria_. So far the mishap differed from Jason's
case, that it fell not into a stream, but upon dry ground; and
tradition, to the present hour, points out the place, or, as the
gentlemen of the long robe would express it, "lays the venue" at Red
Gap, where this occurrence took place.

Whether the royal sandal was, or was not, made of _red_ Morocco, or
Turkey leather, which thus may have happily given an _agnomen_ to the
gap, seems such a dilemma, that we shall not rashly venture to pronounce
upon so knotty and important a point as it appears, but leave the
discussion to learned antiquaries, and the exposition to profound
etymologists, more conversant with such grave and consequential matters
than we can possibly presume to be acquainted withal.

At this place King James alighted from his horse, and accompanied by the
Duke of Tyrconnel, entered the royal travelling carriage. No occurrence
worthy of notice took place during the remainder of the journey; and the
same evening the royal cavalcade reached Waterford in perfect safety.
There Sir Nicholas Porter, the mayor of Waterford, and the corporation,
respectfully waited upon King James; and the mayor had a grand banquet
most hospitably prepared at Reginald's Tower, where the king dined and
slept.

The Duke of Tyrconnel expressed his ardent wishes and determination to
accompany his royal master to France, which King James said he would not
hear of, nor admit. The king then took a valuable diamond ring from his
royal hand, and placing it on Tyrconnel's, he said, with much feeling
and emphasis, while he warmly pressed the hand upon which he placed it,
"Tyrconnel, I well know that you _will_ remember me!"

"Yes, my beneficent Sire, I shall beyond all possibility of doubt; when
I shall forget my beloved king, then may heaven for ever forget and
forsake me!"

Here Tyrconnel knelt, and with warm affectionate zeal and affection
kissed the hand of the royal exile.

"Wear that, Tyrconnel, as a pledge of my unaltered and unalterable
affection. I am at present, from the cogency and crisis that my fortunes
have assumed, necessitated to yield to superior force; but I shall never
cease to labour for the deliverance of my faithful Irish subjects so
long as I shall live."

He then added in a slow, solemn, and affecting tone: "I charge you,
Tyrconnel, upon your allegiance, and by your love for me, to hasten, so
soon as you shall witness my embarkation, to return back to the bosom of
your family; restore a husband to your wife, and, to _my_ Adelaide--my
beauteous god-child, a father. Hasten to go! and the most affectionate
regards of your faithful sovereign and friend attend you! I say prepare
to go!"

"Please your Majesty," the duke replied, "I most respectfully obey; but
surely your Highness will not, cannot, I humbly hope, refuse me a boon,
and that which I respectfully conceive to be merely the duty of a loyal
subject to claim, and that is, my liege, to witness your safe return to
Saint Germains; and then I will return to my family."

This request was at once acceded to by King James; who concluded by
saying, "I was indeed born to be the sport of fortune!" This he had
often said before; and now he repeated his favourite apothegm.

King James withdrew to repose at an early hour; and Tyrconnel, who slept
in the outward room, adjoining his sovereign, was in attendance. The
Duke of Tyrconnel retired to bed, but not to repose. He now rapidly
retraced in mental review the occurrences of years, and the still more
surprising events, the fatal result of a very few days, that had so
rapidly succeeded each other in a fatally consecutive train. "Oh, what a
contrast," he thought, "there is between the triumphant landing some
months before at Kinsale, and the deeply humiliating departure that upon
the following day shall take place on the royal embarkation from
Waterford!"

Oppressed more by mental than bodily fatigue, at length Tyrconnel
insensibly sunk into a profound sleep; but it was unaccompanied with
that refreshment which the balmy sleep of health ought to bestow. It was
restless and disturbed. The vision of his beloved monarch's landing at
Kinsale floated in vivid colours before him, and once more presented in
detail the event as it had happened; once more he stood uncovered upon
the beech of Kinsale, anxiously awaiting the landing of his sovereign,
and to pay his dutiful homage; once more he heard the loud exultant
exclamations of congregated thousands; once more he witnessed the rapid
flash, and heard the succeeding thunder of deep-toned salutation

    "From the loud cannons' mouth."

Again standards waved in the air, and were lowered to the earth, to hail
the sovereign's auspicious approach; the military presented arms; the
burst of harmony from the various regimental bands, and the universal
shouts of joy made the welkin ring. The entire body of the Roman
ecclesiastics, all habited in their meet and proper costume, assembled,
and kneeled upon the beach, while the host was borne in high and solemn
procession. The congregated nobles and gentry were all duly marshalled
upon the strand, in meet accordance to their rank and dignity, loyally
and affectionately to receive, and congratulate the arrival of their
beloved monarch, while "every inch a king," and right royally arrayed,
standing erect in the royal pinnace which rowed him to the Irish shore;
while the royal standard floated at the stern, and the stately pinnace,
decked and emblazoned with all the circumstance, pride, and splendour of
heraldic pomp, blazed forth richly illumined by a vernal sun, and seemed
at once to diffuse hope, joy, and confidence around.

Here, upon his landing, King James was welcomed by a number of young
persons of both sexes--the one remarkable for their manly graces, as the
other for their lovely faces and forms--who joined hands in the
celebrated _Rinceadh-Fada_,[6] or Irish dance, which pleased the monarch
exceeding well, who often afterwards spoke of it, saying how highly he
had been delighted with it. King James now approached Tyrconnel, whom he
warmly grasped. Upon this "the fabric of his vision" was completely
dissolved; for Tyrconnel was now broad awake. He took off the diamond
ring which his royal master had given him the night before, devoutly
pressed it to his lips, and arose, for it was now day, feverish and
unrefreshed from his couch.

    [6] The _Rinceadh-Fada_, or Irish dance, is thus described by the
    late Mr. Cooper Walker: "When that unfortunate Prince, James II.,
    landed at Kinsale, his friends who awaited his arrival on the sea
    shore received him with the _Rinceadh-Fada_, or Irish dance, the
    figure and execution of which delighted him exceedingly. This was
    the figure: Three persons abreast, each holding a corner of a
    white handkerchief, first moved forward a few paces to slow music;
    the rest of the dancers followed two and two, a white handkerchief
    held between each. Then the dance began, the music suddenly
    changing to brisk time; the dancers then passed with a quick step
    under the handkerchief of the three in front; they wheeled round
    in semi-circles, forming a variety of pleasing and animating
    evolutions, interspersed at intervals with _entrè chants_, or
    cuts; they then united, and fell back again in their original
    places behind, and paused. Perhaps the classical reader will
    find--and we think he may--a similarity between our
    _Rinceadh-Fada_ and the festal dance of the Greeks."--_Historical
    Memoirs of the Irish Bards_, 4to., Dublin, 1786, pp. 151, 152,
    154.

    Mr. Walker adds in a note, "Before we adopted the French style of
    dancing, our public and private balls used always to conclude with
    the _Rinceadh-Fada_."

He opened the casement of his window to admit the balmy breeze of the
morning, and taking from his finger the diamond ring, he cut with its
sharp and brilliant point the following lines on a pane of the
lattice:--

    When Boyne ran red with human gore,
    And royal Stuart fled Donore;
    While William seiz'd King James's throne,
    A people's voice had made his own;
    This tow'r did friendly refuge give
    To James, the royal fugitive;
    And loyal love had here the pow'r
    Awhile to cheer misfortune's hour!

    Oh, then for aye this antique tow'r be blest,
    Which succour gave to royalty opprest!

King James and his suite having breakfasted, and all matters being in
readiness, the embarkation commenced. Gloom, silence, and despondence
seemed every where to prevail. The king, in ascending the vessel
prepared for him, and which was called "the Count de Lauzun," was
assisted by the Duke of Berwick, the Duke of Tyrconnel, Marquis Powis,
the Marquis d'Avaux, ambassador of France, &c. &c. &c. But it was amid
universal silence they embarked! No shout, cheer, or exclamation, was
heard; no pomp, no parade, was exhibited; not even a royal salute from
the guns in the harbour!

However, amongst the populace there was, or seemed to be, a feeling of
pity, but somewhat allied to contempt, and more approaching anger rather
than sorrow. Thus the royal exile departed from the shores of Ireland,
without a single cap having been flung up, or an individual voice to
exclaim,

    "God save King James!"

Such ever is the fate of fallen greatness! King James now spread full
sail for the coast of France, and was the first who brought tidings of
his own dreadful defeat.[7] All the French court appeared to be much
affected, and sorrow was manifested throughout the entire realm. But one
piece of news so sad for France, was immediately followed by another,
which produced a general joy,[8] although, however, it was of short
duration in the hearts of all those who were interested in the disgrace
of that fugitive prince.[9] A _valet de chambre_ of King James, who
preceded his master, returning from Ireland to Paris, related as a fact
that the Prince of Orange was killed by a cannon shot, which he had
received on the day of the battle.

    [7] Rapin's History of England.

    [8] Histoire de Guillaume III.--Tom. II. p. 87, 88.

    [9] Ibid.--Tom. II. p. 88, 89. Histoire du Pays Bas. Tom. III.

The prince was considered dead throughout all France; and as one
believes with facility what they are desirous should happen, people did
not wish to stop or examine if that news should prove false. The
report, as circulated, was, that the Prince of Orange had been killed by
a cannon shot in fording the river Boyne. The first account which they
had at Paris arrived at midnight; and all the commissioners of the wards
were despatched, by order of Louis XIVth, to knock at the doors of the
citizens, and to tell them in a triumphant tone that the Prince of
Orange was dead, and that they must arise and rejoice! At the expiration
of a few moments the whole city appeared illuminated. Drums and trumpets
were heard in all directions, nor was there to be seen a single street
where they had not lighted fires. Never, even at the birth of princes,
had been displayed so many attestations of joy as then blazed abroad in
France, at the account of the pretended death of the Prince of Orange.
The populace hastily made effigies of King William and Queen Mary, which
they drew through the dirt, treated with every indignity, and afterwards
burned them. The bells of _Notre Dame_, and many other churches rang
peals of joy, and the cannon of the Bastile were fired. Finally,
nothing was forgotten which was customary to be done on the most solemn
occasions. These rejoicings lasted for many days, which were celebrated
in feasts and all other kinds of diversions.

The public joy spread itself from Paris to all the other cities,
accompanied with the news of the death which was the cause of it. But it
was more astonishing, and what, perhaps, no prince ever before did for
the death of an enemy, the King of France gave orders to all the
garrisons of provinces to cause to be fired _feux de joiè_ in all places
of public resort!--and, finally, to crown all, (what horrid impiety!)
even religion was called in and made a partaker of the public joy!

_Te Deum_ was chanted in the cathedral church of _Notre Dame_, where
members of the parliament assisted, clad in their red robes, to return
thanks to heaven for the death of the Prince of Orange!!![10]

    [10] Histoire de Roy Guillaume III. Tom, II. p. 89.--Amsterdam,
    1703.

For the present we must proceed to other matters, while the Duke of
Tyrconnel is employed in attending his unfortunate sovereign[11] to the
court of Saint Germains, and while the duchess and her family, escorted
by Sir Patricius Placebo, are performing their voyage to Parkgate, we
must, in the mean time, advert to our shipwrecked voyagers, who were
very early noticed in our history, and whom, with very little
consideration indeed upon our part, we have allowed so long to remain at
Ostend, and in durance vile.

    [11] The great and prominent fault of King James II., and which
    formed the head and front of his political offences, was no doubt
    his arbitrary government, and the decided preference which he gave
    to Catholics in preference--nay, to the total exclusion of
    Protestants from all emoluments in the State, and furthermore
    enforced by bills of pains and penalties, and attainders! Upon
    this fatal rock his fortunes were wrecked, and he lost his throne.
    Since this time the converse of the proposition has been unhappily
    and unwisely but too often acted upon. But let the past be buried
    in oblivion, and mutual animosities be forgiven and forgotten! A
    bright and happy period seems now about to arise to give peace and
    tranquillity to a country too long depressed by civil and
    irreligious jars; the sun of peace seems, with bland promise,
    about to illumine the horizon of hitherto distracted Erin, by
    snapping asunder the bonds which have for ages manacled a brave
    and noble people; and it is fondly believed and hoped that a long
    desired great and liberal measure shall in no long space of time
    be effected by the "_Roy le veult_" of a great and mighty king,
    the most generous, enlightened, and accomplished prince, who ever
    adorned the throne of Britain, and who well indeed may be called
    PATER PATRIÆ, the father and the benefactor of ALL his people!

    "It was omitted to mention in the foregoing chapter that King
    James, in his passage to France, met with the French fleet of
    frigates which M. Seignelai had originally intended to burn the
    English shipping on the coast of England, and which subsequently
    was destined to burn William's transports upon the coast of
    Ireland;--but communicating to other nations the bad fortune which
    attended himself, he carried it back to France with him for the
    security of his person."--_Rapin's History of England._

       *       *       *       *       *




                              CHAPTER III.

    Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim.

                                          LATIN PROVERB.

    Ostendam metiri ulnis pedibusque necesse est;
    Quemque premas, dubiâ morte parare locum.

                              URBIUM BELGICARUM CENTURIA.


It is incumbent here that we should again return to Ostend, and attend
our shipwrecked voyagers, who have been left so long in durance vile, as
contained in the first chapter of our first volume; and advert to other
notable accidents worthy to be known, related, and recorded.

Our readers then will vouchsafe to recollect of what importance, as a
seaport, Ostend is, and ever has been considered, being only second in
rank to Dunkirk. Indeed the possession of Ostend in every war has been
always accounted of the highest consequence by every belligerent power,
as well as by the sovereigns too of the Low Countries. The oriental
situation of Ostend has given to it its name, by which one might express
_a port which looks to the east_; and its armorial bearing[12] implies
that it is one of the principal keys of Austrian Flanders.

    [12] "The armorial escutcheon of Ostend bears a chevron sable on a
    gold ground, charged with three keys, sable blazoned on the dexter
    and sinister chiefs, and on the middle base point of the shield.
    The supporters a seaman and a mermaid."--_Les Delices des Pays
    Bas._

Ostend had formerly been the simple station of fishermen, established
between Nieuport and Helvoetsluys; but, increasing from various
combining events, it gradually arose to consequence, numerous causes
having co-operated to its enlargement. The origin of the civil wars--the
fears created by the numerous pirates throughout the entire provinces of
the Low Countries, &c., these gradually led to its increase, and Ostend
became a place of strength and importance; her port enriching her trade
and revenue by bringing home the merchandize of Europe; while her strong
fortifications protected and secured the inhabitants from the
machinations of their enemies; and, finally, the peace of Ghent having
completely established the power of the confederated states.

At the period of which we speak Ostend was progressively recovering from
the fatal effects of a protracted siege, conducted by the Spaniards
under Spinola, which had lasted for the space of three years; and upon
the last day of the siege it was as uncertain as upon the first whether
it would be captured by the Spaniards or not; or to which side victory
finally would belong. The account of the loss of lives on the part of
the besiegers and the besieged in this disastrous siege, is truly most
formidable; it is computed that fifteen thousand of the latter perished;
some slain by the sword of war, others fell by pestilence, and others
perished the victims of the marshy climate of Ostend, from fatigue of
the siege, the sorties, engagements, and fire of the enemy; while the
Spaniards suffered the severe loss of upwards of seventy-eight thousand
men.[13]

    [13] See "Grotius Annales et Histoires des Troubles du Pays Bas,"
    lib. X. p. 491. See also the "Cardinal Bentivoglio," lib. III. p.
    6. And see "Histoire des Provinces Unies, par M. Le Clerc," vol.
    I. p. 215, 229, Amsterdam, folio, 1723. In these three works will
    be found a full account of Spinola's attempt on Ostend, and the
    reader will be tempted to exclaim:--Unhappy Belgium! whose
    beauteous domains have been doomed to blaze beneath the torch of
    war, from the days of Tiberius down to those of Napoleon!

But we must now return to the detail of our voyagers, who having ate a
hearty supper at their hotel, soon retired to repose in their respective
chambers. Oh, how refreshing to the wearied spirit is the renovating
balm of sleep; and how invigorating is a night's undisturbed repose! And
how great, how unspeakable the change, and how joyful the contrast, from
the almost certain expectancy of death by a watery grave, it is upon the
succeeding morning to awake, as if from the tomb, upon a bed of down,
and to hail the blessed cheering light of morning! Who could forbear to
raise the adoring eye and the grateful heart to heaven, for an escape so
unexpected and providential! All this they deeply and devoutly felt.

The morning succeeding their preservation, while they were actively and
busily occupied in the important despatch of an incomparable breakfast,
and the fellow-sufferers were passing a high and well deserved eulogium
on some excellent Malines ham, to their great surprise and dismay a
party of _Gens d'Armes_, as has been before remarked, arrived at their
hotel, when (the three of them) the colonel, his servant, and Doctor
M'Kenzie, were arrested under suspicion of being spies, and were thrown
into prison.

"This is somewhat too hard," observed Doctor M'Kenzie, "not to be
allowed to swallow our rations of excellent ham! A few hours ago to have
escaped the whirlpool of Charybdis, and this morn to be shipwrecked on
the rock of Scylla! The sea was well nigh swallowing us yesterday, and
to-day we are to be immured in prison on suspicion of being spies;

    'Dextrum Scylla latus, lævum implacata Charybdis Obsidet.'"

"Yes, my Reverend Friend," replied the colonel, "this is all but too
true, we have had our share of suffering indeed; but while we feel it as
men, let us also bear it like men, and hope the best! For my own lot I
care not; to me death, not captivity, would be welcome!"

To account for this arrest we must apprise our readers that Marshal de
Rantzau had made a desperate attempt with only two thousand French
troops, a very few years previous to the period of which we now speak.
But eventually the French force was put to flight, with the loss of
twelve hundred brave and gallant men, who fatally fell in this rash
attempt. And this event it was which caused such alertness and suspicion
regarding strangers to be adopted by the government and garrison of
Ostend.

The prisoners were marched along under a strong escort of the _Gens
d'Armes_, and were conducted to the chief prison, and handed over to the
surveillance of the head gaoler, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, who, by the way,
happened to be a countryman of the Reverend Doctor M'Kenzie. At that
period the janitor of a gaol did not enjoy the present high diplomatique
distinction of being termed the _governor_ or _warder_ of a
grated citadel.

While Mr. Phelim O'Neale was showing his prisoners the apartments
allotted to them, he said, addressing the Reverend Clerk:--"I know that
your Riverence is my countryman, and perhaps I know still more; I
therefore feel all the respect and affection which I ought to do for a
countryman in a foreign land. My life has been a varied and changeable
one, and it may perchance beguile away an hour of captivity, that you
should deign to listen to my story. Och, I was once a roving and
untamable bird, wild as the haggard-hawk[14] of my native hills, that is
ever on the excursive wing; and like to it, I was not to be tamed at
all; but now, in troth, I am tame enough, any how! For the present I
shall only say, that from peculiar and urgent circumstances I was
compelled to leave my native land. I embarked from the bay of Tyrconnel
in Ireland, in a vessel bound for Virginia; at sea I was taken prisoner
by the fleet and squadron of Marshal de Rantzau; and with the force of
his Highness I was landed at this good city, ould Ostind. Well here I
was a wandering raw recruit on Flemish ground, an unknown exile and
outcast, forsaken by all, from Dan to Beersheba! Howsomdever, I was
shortly thrown in the way of my brave countryman, Count Dillon, whom I
knew when I was a gossoon. He was a lieutenant curnell, sarving under
the marshal; and he was not slow in discovering that I possessed both
cuteness and genus.--_Vous avez razon mun infant!_ he would often say to
me, (he had lived for years in France,) and yit, by my blessed sowl, I
often thought that his honourable worship himself had no razon at all,
at all!"

    [14] Haggard, in falconry, means a hawk or falcon not taken in the
    nest, but after she had been inured to liberty, and preying for
    herself. Haggard-hawks are hard to be tamed and brought under
    discipline. The haggard-falcon is also called _Peregrine-falcon_,
    passenger and traveller, from its wandering more than any other
    sort of its kind; it is strong, courageous, hardy, and
    persevering. This bird is distinguished from the common falcon as
    being larger, &c. &c. The haggard-falcon, when wild and
    unreclaimed, takes the greatest liberty of all other birds, living
    either by land or sea; and formed of such absolute power, that
    wherever she comes all flying fowl stoop under her subjection.

"Fie, fie! Mr. Phelim O'Neale; swear not at all! it is a work of
supererogation for selling yourself, both body and soul, gratis to the
infernal power! Let me hear no more of it."

"Well, your Riverence, no sooner said than done," says poor Phelim
O'Neale; "by ---- I will swear no more!"

"There again!--swearing an oath that you will not swear! Who ever heard
the like before;--what impious inconsistency!"

"Your pardon, Riverend Father, for this time, and you shall no more
catch me tripping, nor stumbling, nor swearing. Och, murder! although I
have endured enough to make any feeling Christian swear hard enough--at
times, any how, to be sure! by ---- I mean maybe through a thick deal
board itself! Well, your Riverence, to continue the thrid of my
story:--Count Dillon one day took me aside, and said, 'Phelim, I clearly
persave that you are a quick, cute lad, and you must assist me in a plan
which I have in disjunction joined with the Marshal Rantzau, for
suddenly surprising Ostind, and taking it by a parabolous stratagism,
the most admirable and intripid that was ever known, thought of, or yet
imagined by any bould pioneer,' as your Riverence shall hear anon. It
was in the month of June, and upon the memorable fifteenth day thereof,
in the year 1600 and--though I can't precisely recollect the date upon
which we resolved for the execution of this intended daring and glorious
enterprise, for our attacking force consisted of but two thousand men.
Our stratigismus was to surprise Ostind by the gate of Nieuport, which
lay upon the land side, and next to the town of Nieuport. We hoped that
by the introduction of a large body of men we might possibly, perhaps
certainly, possess ourselves of the town and citadel of ould Ostind.
Accordingly, to be sure, with this intint, we well surveyed the gate;
and before that we had geoggraphyz'd the intire country, and all the
roads and passes disjacent, whersomby that by every measure and means,
and all due secrecy, that our attacking force might be intraducted, and
back our noble and elegant enterprise. Accordingly some half dozen
soldiers, clad in garb of Flemish peasants, in their blue caps and blue
frocks; and wherewithal supporting upon their backs sacks well stored
with chesnuts, walnuts, &c., were to seem as if they had brought them
for sale into town; and thin, upon an appointed signal, (the sacks
loosely tied,) the pretinded peasants were to let them fall, (accidently
on purpose no doubt,) and scatter their contints around upon the ground,
which was to cause a general scramble, and take off the attention of the
guard from the object which we had in view. This having taken place, the
fore-said soldiers, or disguised peasants, were to rally around a
waggon, or, as they call it here, a charabbon, under the same pretence,
laden with baskets of fruit and vegetables, strawberries, cherries,
peas, beans, &c. &c. The thing was so managed that within the waggon
there were concealed about thirty soldiers. As being the chief
projector, the honourable post of heading this desperate attempt,
(which, if it succeeded, was soon to be followed by a powerful force,)
was consigned, gentle Sirs, to your intripid and very devoted sarvant,
Phelim O'Neale."

"And pray, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, if it be not taking too great a liberty,
may I inquire what induced Count Dillon to place such confidence in
_you_, and make _you_ the head of the pioneers, or of this stratagem,
upon the success of which, it would appear, turned the entire success of
the attack?"

"Och, botheration! and that too I will confiss to your Riverence. 'I
think,' says I, Curnell, plaze your worthy honour's worship, that I
could suggist a matter to your grace's judgment that would, all in all,
carry the day, and, in troth, we should soon be in possession of ould
Ostind!'

"'Indeed! Mr. Phelim O'Neale; pray tell, are you on the staff?--I
suppose a general at least!' said he.

"'Not I, by my own sowl!' says I. 'No, not even a corporal! But then
your noble and valiant worship knows, howsomdever, that there is a
little fish, not larger than four inches in lingth, and about one in
bridth, that pilots and leads on the great commodore of the ocean; I
mean, plaze your most noble worship, the pilot fish,[15] that steers
onward the mighty shark, the goliathan of the ocean, to the wictims of
his prey! What do you think now, noble commander, of this apt
dissimilitude?'

    [15] The pilot fish, called in ichthyology, _Gasterosteus Ductor_.

"'Oh, pardon, good honest friend O'Neale, _vous este une bon garcon_!'

"Upon my own conscience we call this better in ould Ireland by the name
of gossoon!--but no matter as to that. He then axed me if I had any
patience; 'for,' said he, 'you Irish have no patience at all;' and then
talked to himself, that the Irish were like one fiery hot Harry Hotspur,
an Hottentot I suppose, that had no forbearance nor patience at all, at
all!

"'Och, then, noble commander,' said I, 'I am the patient, enduring boy
after all; I am stationary as an owl at mid-day within an ivy bush! and
as patient and forbearing (baring till the time comes) as a heron
perched upon the brink of a fish-brook! Och, then, by my own sowl, 'tis
I am the lad that will wait for you till the very cows come
home!--troth, sure enough, I would at any hop of the ball!'

"'Bravo, bravo! my bould boy;' replied Count Dillon, 'you are the very
boy for my business and project--all shall go on well!' He then
ejoculated, '_vous avez razon, vous avez razon_,' until I fairly thought
that he would have lost his own razon all out and out, any how!"

"But pray proceed, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, with your narrative, in which I
begin to take some little interest."

"Thus emboldened, your Riverence, as I was by my commander's lave, I up
and tould him, as I till you and your friend, all my plan, of which he
highly approbated. Every matter being duly prepared, a time for making
the grand attack was appointed. The soldiers who were to make the
attempt, as I have already tould your Riverence, were all disguised as
Flemish peasants, in their blue caps and blue frocks, and were each man
to have a Flanders' pipe stuck in his jaw, and smoking away briskly, as
much as to say, _the devil may care for yeez all_! I will now till the
whole of my contrivance, as plotted and planned from the first to the
last, without any deviation or prevarication from the truth at all, at
all! To go on then with my story:--the charabbon, or waggon, contained,
as already I have said, thirty soldiers, who upon this occasion were to
be headed by me; in the cart we had several stout planks of oak, which
were destinated for a treble purpose: firstly, to hide us who were
packed beneath, but whose hearts were strong and unbending as the
planks over our heads; and secondly, to support some baskets of fruit
and vegetables, for which this country is most remarkable."

"Yes," said Doctor M'Kenzie, addressing Colonel Davidson, "it is
recorded that when Anne of Cleves, the queen consort of King Henry
VIII., wanted a sallad, she used to despatch a messenger to Flanders to
procure one."

The colonel nodded his assent, and requested Mr. Phelim O'Neale to
proceed onward with his tale.

"Well the planks were, as I said, destinated for a treble purpose, I
have tould two of these; the third was, in the last place, to erect them
as uprights, to prevent the falling of the portcullis upon our skulls
who were to make the attack. And the charabban was intentionally, on
purpose to be sure, to be overturned at the door of the guard-house to
block up the guard while cracking their walnuts, &c. If this attempt of
gaining the Nieuport-gate had succeeded, a carabine was to have been
fired to give a signal to the Marshal de Rantzau, who was stationed with
the remainder of our force, which, as I have already obsarved, amounted
to two thousand men; and upon their coming up in time, in obedience to
the signal, we were sure and sartin of the capture of Ostind.

"We had thus anxiously planned, and with strong grounds and hopes of
success, this elegant enterprise, which was to burst forth upon the
fifteenth day of June; whether the termination was fortunate or the
reverse will soon be tould yeez. The military gait and air of the
supposed peasants it is thought led to suspicion, and seemed to awaken
the attention of the garrison. Just when the charabbonier[16] drove up
his wehicle in which I was, and approached to the Nieuport-gate of
Ostind, forward advanced the damniers, (douaniers,[17] or custom-house
officers,) and with their accustomed agility forth flew their rapiers,
flashing in the bright summer glow of the harvest moon; they cut, and
thrust, and terced, prodding the contints of the waggon without any
distinction or respect of persons or property, whether dead or alive
stock, but according to custom, searching for counter-brand goods and
chattels. At length a sharp Toledo of one of these damned damniers stuck
in one of my ribs, and sure enough the blood began to leak. 'Arah,'
roared I, 'what the d--l are you perpetrating; and would you be after
murdering me, you Flanders' boucher!'

    [16] Charabbonier means the driver, or waggoner, of a Flemish
    waggon.

    [17] It is usual for the douaniers, or custom-house officers, of
    Flanders, to attend at the gates of the different cities, who
    search, by means of prodding with a foil, all merchandize coming
    into or out of town, in order to detect any goods that may prove
    to be contraband, or smuggled.

"'Ah, hah!--_Jean Bull!_--_Jean diable!_' cried he aloud, '_emportez
soldats! ca herse--bas--bas--ouvrez le fenetre!_' Which every body knows
is 'shut the gate!' And sure enough bang down went the portcullis, up
leapt the draw-bridge; and closed and securely bolted and barred in no
time were the gates. And, oh, 'tis true enough, poor Phelim O'Neale had
got sartain and sure at the wrong side of the gate, where he was soon
made prisoner, and all his brave plans completely dumb-foundered and
knocked upon the head in one short and sad moment. I with several
others, thus caught in this Flemish trap, were made prisoners; while
suspicion being aroused, and all our resources having been cut off,
outnumbered as Marshal Rantzau was by the enemy, it was only left him to
sound a retreat, and retire to his chaloupes, (large boats.)

"After having remained for a long period in prison, I at last caught the
attention of the head gaoler, who taking a fancy to me, made me his
under gaoler; and some years after, (seven I think,) upon his death, I
was constatuted head gaoler. And here I am; I have a good salary, a good
roomy house, and with the allowance of coals and candles. I am married
to a pretty, and what is far better, to a good Flemish lass; and we have
already four childer in the space of three years, and the Lord be
praised they are all the right sort--they are all of the emasculate
ginder! So that I am, in troth, in some sort of mizzure indamnified for
my losses and sufferings by the post which I here hould."

Mr. Phelim O'Neale, the head gaoler, or, in phrase modern,
_diplomatique_, the head governor of the citadel, paid the most marked
attention to his prisoners; and said, that before the morning's dawn he
would think of something that would ixtrickate them from their prison.
"For when a man gets into a scrape or difficulty, Riverend Father, he
has only to consult an Irishman, who will be sure and sartain to get him
safely and genteely out of it."

"Ay, the Nieuport-gate of Ostend and the Spanish Toledo to wit," thought
Doctor M'Kenzie to himself, "is a full elucidation of the truth of this
proposition!"

Now having left them a most comfortable dinner, or supper, and which
answered for both; with a bottle or two of _vin du pays_, and some true
and veritable Rhenish wine, the warder of the citadel wished his inmates
a good night. But before he departed he took Doctor M'Kenzie aside, and
whispered him--"I have so managed it that by to-morrow you and your
friend shall have separate apartments at night; to-morrow the
arrangement shall take place, and I have much to say to you, holy
Father, in secret, and to make many confissions when we shall meet alone
on the morrow."

The next morning by times the warder arrived, and introduced a plentiful
and excellent breakfast, not forgetting some excellent Malines ham, in
the digestion of which they had been so rudely interrupted at the inn of
the old Saint Michael. When breakfast was over he again returned; when
opening his cloak, he produced a violin and clarionet. "Do any of you
play upon these instruments?" said Phelim O'Neale.

"Yes," rejoined Doctor M'Kenzie, "I was wont in happier days than these
to play for my pastime upon the violin. But such a question now in such
a place--say to what can it tend? I have no such fancy indeed at
present, I can assure you, my good and kind Mr. Phelim O'Neale." Who,
however, proceeded, quite unrestrained by his Reverence's rebuke--"Can
nobody play upon the clarionet?"

After some delay and hesitation, at length with diffidence the colonel's
servant said, "Yes, Sir, I once could play upon it when I was----"

"Oh, that," said Phelim, "will do capitally! excellent! quite enough!
strim-stram--drimendreuch! All will now, in troth, go on quite well, and
with grate success, any how!"

He then laid down the musical instruments, and putting his hands in his
pocket, produced several files and saws of various forms and sizes, and
then produced a bottle of vitriol. "My plan," added he, "is now fully
ripening for the liberation of yeez three; these instruments and
implements are intinded to saw asunder the prison bars of your dungeon
window, which being within a short distance from the ground, your
freedom easily can be afficted without either damage or difficulty, or
even resaving a slight prod in the small ribs, when you shall have duly
accomplished the nibbling asunder of the meshes which confine yeez! And
the Rev. Doctor with his fiddle, and this honest-faced lad with his
clarionet--och, och, it will all do bravely and rarely to murder and
drown, aye, and bother, that brave and grave gentleman's operatusses in
sawing the bars; och, by my sowl, the filing will be fairly bothered.
And troth yeez shant want for paper and paste to hide and cover your
dainty devices in caase any body should come in, he must needs admire
the nateness of your apartment."

"Sawing iron! ah," said Doctor M'Kenzie, "that is a harsh and grating
amusement!" And then turning to the man of war, he said:

    "They little know what ills environ
    The man who meddles with cold iron!"

The colonel frowned, and seemed displeased.

The honest-hearted Phelim O'Neale, for such he was with all his faults
and transgressions to boot, now bade a good night to his imprisoned
friends, as he called them; and then whispered aside, that on the
ensuing morow he would beg the favour to make his confessions to the
Reverend Clerk what time the apartment should be ready for his gallant
friend, which was under preparation, and would be ready to receive him
early upon the following morning. He then bowed, and wished them all "a
very good night's repose."




                              CHAPTER IV.

    --------In brief, he is a rogue of six reprieves, four pardons of
    course; thrice pilloried, twice sung _Lachrymæ_ to the virginals
    of a cat's tail; he has been five times in the galleys, and will
    never truly run himself out of breath till he comes to the
    gallows.

                                            THE FAIR MAID OF THE INN.


"Now, holy and most Riverend Sir, that my eyes are blessed with seeing
your benevolent visage once more," said Phelim O'Neale, "and that I
behold you in these sad towers, the abode of crime and of guilt, which
indeed never belonged to you, and that we are in private, with your
riverend permission, I will make my confission unto you. Don't your
reverence remember me?"

"Not I, in sooth."

"What! not remember Phelim O'Neale?"

"Not I, in sooth, honest Mr. Phelim O'Neale."

"Oh, baring (excepting) _honest_; that any how for the present we will
pass by. But, holy Father, if you knew but all, you have far too many
reasons not to forget me! Do you not remember that you stood by me
during my last moments, and gave me the holy ritals of the church?"

"What do I hear! Stood by you in your last moments, and gave you the
holy rituals of the church! and here you are!! The poor man is
deranged--quite crazed. You are beside yourself, Mr. Phelim (without
_honest_) O'Neale!"

"Nay, nay, Riverend Father, I am _beside you_, or rather forenent you.
Do you not remember, your Riverence, that some tin years ago (small
blame howsomdever to your Riverence any how, for grate razon you have,
in troth, to remember Phelim O'Neale, if you knew but all!)--well, as I
said, some tin years ago you attended me at the gaol of Tyrconnel in my
last moments; you were present when I was hanged--ay, regularly
hanged!!"

"Hanged! hanged!" ejaculated Doctor M'Kenzie; "and yet you are
here!--You speak, you address me! How is this? It is madness all!"

"Not so neither, craving your excellent Riverence's pardon; I was tried
for high-way robbery at the assizes of Tyrconnel;[18] I then most justly
was found guilty, and condamnified by the circuit-going judge, Justice
Jocum, to be hanged. And sure enough, by my sowl, hanged I fairly
was--no doubt whatever of it! That is to say the hangman did his part,
as the judge and jury had before done theirs; and my friends did the
rest. Och, they did their part, sure enough--long life to them for the
same! At that most memorable 'pocha of my life--or death! as it was by
all supposed, thought, and credited, your worthy and excellent Riverence
attended me in my last sad and awful moments. Thin you saw me mount the
fatal ladder; the hangman gave me a hempen cravat, which, in troth, I
but too well desarved! and the ladder having been suddenly taken away,
I made a spring, and, as all thought, I jumpt into itirnity. But you
remimber, or might remimber, that before I was launched from the fatal
tree, I bouldly kicked off my brogues, and died true game. And och, may
be I didn't kick them off in stylo! as much as to indiccate to my
commeradoes, 'Yeez see, jewels, that I die true game; and moreover, none
shall suffer in the dead man's shoes--not one of yeez! This plainly
tould them all a true tale, that I had not confissed, or betrayed any of
them by a cowardly disacknowledgment."

    [18] Now, anno salutis 1822, called Donegal.

"Oh, shame, shame!" rejoined Doctor M'Kenzie, "kicking off your brogues
upon the scaffold, on the confines of eternity, in the sad and solemn
hour of death and suffering for crime! Oh, shame, shame! What
blasphemy--what hardness of heart, and perversity of head! Detestable
and abominable folly and wickedness. Why, I say, man, if you were upon
the stage of a mountebank, performing pantomime tricks, to please and
gull the stupid populace, such a proceeding would be indecent,
indecorous, and irreligious; how much more so then, when parting from
the stage of human life, branded with crime, and condemned by the
voice of justice and the offended laws of your country! I cry shame upon
such indecency, such horrible levity, upon so solemn and so awful an
occasion as the departure of a guilty culprit (and guilty too by his own
confession) from life to eternity, to answer in another world, before an
offended God, for the crimes committed in this!"

"So may it plaze your Riverence, troth it was no livity at all, at all;
but merely a sort of sharp signal or freemason's sign to my comrades
that I had died intripid, and true to them, not having betrayed one of
the gang, or club, as we called it. And now once more I am alive again,
to repint anew of the same, which I most sartinly do."

"Ay, indeed!--Are you sure of that, Mr. Phelim O'Neale? Can I depend
upon your living word, when your dying one was false? A proof, a proof;
give me a proof, and then I shall give credence to you."

Phelim slowly drawing forth a watch from his fob: "It is here, holy
Father! this is my proof. This watch was yours, became mine by the
chance of war, or rapine, and now I restore it--it is yours again! Your
Riverence will examine it: the maker's name, your chain, your seals--you
cannot forget them any how?"

"Yes, yes, I must confess that is, or was my watch; the identity of that
I cannot possibly gainsay. And if you can make out that it was you who
deprived me of it, and that now again restore it, why assuredly I shall
then confess that you are _certes_ the honestest man in your calling
that I have ever met with. But, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, I have a question to
propose, and upon your answer to it will depend my credence of what now
you say. Pray, _if_ (I say _if_) hanged, how were you restored to life.
A watch may be found, and a watch can be wound--may be stolen, and may
be restored, but the vital spring of life is not so easily
renovated.--Come, to the point."

"Your Riverence must then know, that I was cut down by my friends, and
through their means restored to life, after having, to all appearance,
fallen a forfeit to the law."

"As how--as how? Mr. Phelim O'Neale! explain."

"By means of hemlock juice infused by well intentioned friends into my
throat and lungs. Oh, but too well I remember that, and but too well
they succeeded; for after the means they used for sussicitation I
recovered; but the pains which I endured were beyond those upon the
fatal tree, the punishment I had endured, and the shame I had borne, for
my family were indeed respectable. Upon my restoration to life, my
friends disguised me in female attire, and hurried me off in a merchant
vessel then in the bay, ready to slip her cables, and bound for
Virginia. So away I went in the same vessel. Och, may be it was not
without a sad and sorrowing heart that I left my mountain shores; for,
sweet Ireland, still, with all thy faults, art thou dear to me; and with
all my own too, with filial love yet do I adore thee, _mavourneen_, my
early loved, my dear natal isle!"

Phelim O'Neale continued: "Your Riverence knows the rest of my story. A
cannon shot of Marshal Rantzau's squadron soon compelled the vessel in
which I was bound for Virginia[19] immediately to strike her flag; and
the result of the Marshal's attack upon Ostind you are in full
possession of already. Here then my story ends, but not my gratitude to
you, of which, before we part, I shall endeavour to convince you of with
sincerity, marked by more than mere words."

    [19] Virginia is noticed in "_The Noble Gentleman_" of Fletcher:--

    "CLERIMONT.--Sir, I had rather send her to Virginia, to help to
    propagate the English nation."--_Weber's Edition of the Works of
    Beaumont and Fletcher_, v. VII. p. 442.

    Mention is likewise made of it in Massinger's "_City Madam_":--

    ----------------------"How! Virginia!
    High heaven forbid! Remember, Sir, I beseech you,
    What creatures are shipp'd thither----
    --------------Condemned wretches,
    Forfeited to the law."

                   _Gifford's Edit. of Massinger_, vol. IV. p. 103.

"Why, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, you have really become eloquent, and have
astonished me quite by your display of words."

"No, no, Riverend Sir, they only burst forth from the heart with a full
tide of over-flowing gratitude to you, and with deep contrition to
myself, for all the past!"

"This my friend, my _honest_ friend, (for such I now must call you,
Phelim, for the restitution which you have made by words as well as in
deeds, and I needs now must prize thee,) yes, this promises good; and
sooth to say, I am pleased withal right well. There, take my hand, and
along with it my best benison on you, your wife, and children."

Phelim knelt down, kissed his hand, and prayed that heaven might shower
down its choicest blessings upon his reverend head.

Three entire days subsequent to this confession soon passed over, and
were occupied only at intervals, in order to obviate detection, in
sawing _per diem_ a bar. Each bar was cut slanting, or diagonally, so as
to be readily re-adjusted as if it had not been severed; and then the
entire bar, when replaced, was covered over by means of paper, which
was neatly pasted thereon, as if no undermining operations had been
sapping the grated barriers of their prison-house.--Meanwhile the
Reverend Chaplain was on the alert, scraping his old Cremona, and the
colonel's servant thundering forth the bass tones of his clarionet, to
serve as masqued batteries to drown the more subtle operations of the
saw and file of the son of Mars.

Upon the evening of the third day Phelim O'Neale came into their cell
just as the last bar to their enlargement was severed in twain. Suddenly
then all filing and fiddling, and piping and papering, at once ceased.

"All is right," exclaimed he, "and all is well. Before two days more
shall dawn you must away from this. I shall manage matters thus: I have
got disguises for yeez three; you, Riverend Sir, are (in the time of
travel) to be a midwife, going on a job to the town of Nieuport, three
leagues from this, where I have a friend, to whom I will address a
letter in behalf of all. In the furtherance of this my deep design, you
shall have a silk gown, cap, rich gilt ear-rings, necklace, with a
large cross--all, moreover, right tawdry enough; and a Flemish hood
thrown over all, to protect Madam Needful from being sun-burnt. And, sir
soldier, there shall be a lackey's dress for you; and, to boot, I have
likewise got a horse, which your worship is to bestride, and which is to
be mounted withal with saddle and pillion, upon which latter my
lady-in-need is to ride.--And as for you, sir lackey, you shall be
caparisoned in a blue check frock of true Flanders make and hue; for
thou art to be a Flemish peasant riding withal in such brave company.
But mind, my youth, I warn thee, that with all meet, becoming respect,
thou shalt demean thyself, and ride in the rere of these gallant
personages. Three horses and a guide, when we shall fix the day and
hour, shall be found waiting at the _porte de Nièuport_."

Many hearty thanks were returned for the ingenious stratagem of Mr.
Phelim O'Neale, which met with the cordial concurrence and approbation
of the prisoners.

Here Mr. Phelim O'Neale resumed his speech: "It must appear that yeez
all have broken prison at the time that yeez depart, so down with all
the bars when yeez go, that it may fully and fidentively appear that it
was any how without my will, knowledge, aid, abettance, or assistance,
whatsomdever, any thing at all to the contrairy notwithstanding, that
yeez fled from prison, in order that I may not suffer pains,
punishments, and penalties, from these Bellawagians, who, after all, to
do them justice, are fond of the English nation; and I verily and
fidentially believe that the craturs would sooner again fight with
Spinola Rantzau, or the d--l, nor with John Bull!"

"Yes," rejoined Doctor M'Kenzie, "that I believe to be an undoubted
fact, inasmuch that the united states of Flanders ever have wished, if
possible, to preserve peace and amity with England, and ever sorely have
they rued the day whenever they have been forced into a war against
England."

"That is most true," added Colonel Davidson, "for, Reverend Sir, you
recollect the favourite saying, or apothegm, of the Emperor Charles
V.:--

    '_Con todo el mundo guerra,
    Y puz con Ingalat jerra!_'

    'With all the world have war,
    But with England do not jar!'

And while speaking of Charles, who had the magnanimity to relinquish a
throne and to retire into the monastery of Saint Jüst, it must not be
forgotten the memorable declaration which he then made. While in the
monastery he employed his leisure time in works of mechanism, such as
clock-work, &c.; he then exclaimed, "_Oh, what a fool I have
been!--during my whole reign I have endeavoured to make all my subjects
think alike in religious matters_, AND YET I CANNOT CAUSE TWO WATCHES TO
KEEP TIME TOGETHER!"

"Yes, noble colonel, there is my hand for that remark, and with it is
accompanied my heart! You are a Protestant and I am a Catholic, yet do I
regard you and revere you, although we differ in tenets."

"And there is my hand and heart in return," said the valiant
colonel; and would to God that this could be a lesson to all the bigots
of the wide world, who, however, appear, I must needs confess, alas!
more zealous to frame sectarian systems, or incontinently to wage
doctrinal disputes and controversies, than meekly to disseminate _peace
and good will upon earth_! and inculcate the mild, forbearing doctrines
of Christianity, the two principal virtues of which are _charity_ and
_humility_."

The evening of the day which succeeded that of the developement of the
projected plan of escaping from prison had arrived, when, as soon as it
had become dark, Mr. Phelim O'Neale commenced his operations by bringing
in the different dresses in which his captives were to be disguised to
facilitate their elopement; this he did gradually and cautiously,
bringing sundry articles of attire at different times, so as to escape
suspicion. Mr. Phelim recommended that when all were duly clad in their
costume of disguise, that their own clothes and changes of linen, &c.
should be carefully packed up in two valises, one of which was to be
carried by the colonel's servant, and the other to be borne by the
guide. "And then," he added, yeez can throw off your disguises at my
friend Malone's house, in the suburbs of Nieuport, and to whom yeez bear
a letter from me."

This arrangement was assented to and resolved to be acted upon _nemine
con_.

The trio felt exceedingly grateful to Mr. Phelim O'Neale for all the
kindness which they had received, and especially for this last very
strong proof of his great generosity. Dr. M'Kenzie especially felt
obliged to him, as he was fully sensible that it was on his account
expressly that freedom was likewise given to his fellow-sufferers.

"Many, very many thanks, kind-hearted Mr. Phelim, for all the favours
which you have bestowed upon us, and most particularly for this last
evincing proof. But, in sooth, we must remunerate thee for all the
expense which thou hast put thyself to upon our account."

Here Phelim O'Neale whispered the Reverend chaplain: "Holy Father,
I tell thee nay; for always remember that once upon a time I robbed your
Riverence upon the high-way of tin times the value of which I now
poorly endeavour to repay you, so that I must beg to hear no more at
least upon this score. I am your debtor still! Silence, firmness, and
obedience to my commands, (who am, by the powers placed in me,
commandant and generalissimo of these dark towers,) are all the
conditions that I now require or impose at your hands, and those of your
fellow-sufferers."

"Well, well, Phelim, I suppose it all must be so as you have advised,
and I do not gainsay it. But, I must indeed acknowledge that you are,
beyond all doubt, hesitation, or even comparison, the most honest man
whom I have ever yet met in your calling."

The prisoners now anxiously lay down to take some repose upon their
beds, the sheets of which had been purposely broken up, and formed into
ropes, to facilitate their descent from the gaol window, and permit
their _exeunt_ to liberty.

On the following morning the prisoners were called up at a very early
hour by this kind-hearted gaoler, when they found themselves duly
invigorated and refreshed by a night's sound repose. And now they
hastened to put on the disguises in which they were to pursue their
journey, in the adjustment of which no great time was lost. They then
proceeded to dismantle the bars of the prison window, while the door and
outer door, upon the retirement of the gaoler, were to remain doubly
locked.

"Come, pray come, my gentle masters;" said Phelim O'Neale, "is all
ready?"

Being answered in the affirmative, he said: "Well then, any how, small
blame to me, I must give precedence to the church, then shall the sword
support the cross, and the servant attend on his master. Come, Riverend
Sir, we must now despatch--so we now proceed to business; thus before
you can patter two _Credos_ or an _Ave_ I will have you dangling at the
rope's end. Och, then, may be, any how, that wont be turning the tables
upon your Riverence!--ha, ha, ha! But sure, any how, nothing can be
more true nor one good turn desarves another."

Mr. Phelim O'Neale now proceeded to lower the Reverend Chaplain by means
of the rope. Having duly adjusted all, he observed, "I say, your
Riverence, I am now paying you off in kind."

"Marry, Phelim, a truce now to your joke-cracking, for which, by my
halidam, I have neither will nor leisure at present to mind. So I say,
prithee, a truce to the explosion of thy witticisms, which are,
methinks, immeasurably ill-timed and chosen; so I pray reserve them for
some meeter occasion of merriment."

"Your Riverence, in troth, only speaks in razon; but you know, your
Riverence, that Pat can no more forego his joke at all, at all, let bide
what may, than can Justice Jokum his pun, which he cracks while the rope
is fairly cracking the neck of the victim to the laws."

"Well, well, Mr. Phelim, having cracked your joke, pray spare my neck
from the same, and likewise my ribs from carte and tierce, for at this
present moment I see before me, with terror in my mind's eye, the
retrospect of the Nieuport-gate of Ostend, and all that you have told me
thereof. So have pity upon our nerves and necks while pending in air,
and _depending_ upon _you_!"

The Reverend Doctor was now safely landed upon _terra firma_, and he in
a subdued tone gave his hearty thanks and farewell to Mr. Phelim
O'Neale, who prayed that the blessings of the poor and distressed might
ever be showered upon, and protect the Reverend Chaplain.

Colonel Davidson's turn now came of being manumitted from the prison
window, and while adjusting the linen cord to the lower fragment of the
window bar--"Oh, Sir Soldier! how much you remind me of a print which I
have seen at Tyrconnel Castle of the famous Hungry Kat, [Henri Quatrè,]
the famous king of France; and, och, long life to you, may you have,
like him, an angel Gabriel [meaning Gabriella d'Estrees] for a wife;
och, and your worthy honour, may she be as kind, and good, and true, as
my own humble Justinè; and moreover, besides, may you have a whole house
full of childer!"

Colonel Davidson, laughing, good humouredly protested against this part
of the benison, as he smilingly observed, that if a soldier could manage
his military baggage, he had enough to do, without being encumbered with
live stock.

Our adventurers having all most kindly bade adieu to Mr. Phelim O'Neale,
proceeded onwards, attended by their guide; and in about a quarter of an
hour, or so, they came up with the attendant, who was in due waiting
with the horses. Colonel Davidson most respectfully lifted up the
Reverend Chaplain, now appropriately dressed in the assumed disguise,
and who looked withal most right, grave, and matron-like, duly seated
upon the pillion destined for the journey; and fully equipped as a
livery servant the colonel mounted the saddle, and was followed by his
attending servant disguised as a Flemish peasant, who most respectfully
kept his distance in the rere, while the guide led on the van. And at a
gentle and sober trot they proceeded for the Nieuport gate, where having
arrived, and being challenged by the sentinel, and the guide giving the
countersign, they were allowed to proceed; the draw-bridge was let down,
and onward they wended their peaceful way. Mr. Phelim O'Neale, with his
usual dexterity, had caused their horses to be shod with the shoes
turned the contrary way, with the intent thereby to prevent pursuit; by
thus puzzling the pursuers, if such should follow, that thus deceived by
the shoe-track, they should be like hounds at fault, and thus in despair
give over the pursuit.

Nieuport had been formerly only a hamlet, called Sandeshove, but upon
the destruction of the neighbouring port of Lombarsyde, being choked up
by the sands, a new port was constructed at Sandeshove, which caused the
town to assume the name of Nieuport, (in Latin, _Novus-portus_, or
_Neoportum_.) Lombarsyde, in consequence, was changed from a town into a
village, and Nieuport from a village into a town. It is regularly
fortified, distant about two leagues from _Furnes_,[20] three from
Ostend, four from Dunkirk, and seven from Bruges and Ypres. The air of
this town is so unhealthy that the garrison do not long remain without
being relieved. It is remarkable that Nieuport is the only place
throughout Flanders that has never been taken or retaken.--"_Urbs
intacta manet._"

    [20] This city is called in the Flemish tongue _Veuren_.

The weather proved somewhat unpropitious to our travellers, as several
very heavy showers of rain fell during their route from Ostend to
Nieuport, the weather in Flanders being generally moist. Doctor M'Kenzie
fortunately recollected, during their progress on the road, that there
was a convent of English Carthusians established at Nieuport. This body
had been instituted in 1415, at Sheen, in England, by King Henry V.; but
in consequence of the persecutions of Queen Elizabeth, they were
compelled to depart their country; and having remained some time at
Malines and at Bruges, they finally established themselves, _anno
salutis 1626_, at Nieuport. The monastery was situated at the western
extremity of the main street of the town, called _Rue de Porte
l'Orient_. Dr. M'Kenzie had heard much praise bestowed upon the present
learned and worthy abbot, Father Philip de Comines, he resolved
therefore to make his way to the abbey, and consult with him upon the
best mode of returning to his native land. Pursuant to this
determination the wearied travellers now approached Nieuport, severely
drenched by the showers which fell during their journey. The Reverend
Gentleman threw off his female attire, and resumed his own, which was
done at a house where they halted, and situated in the suburbs of the
town, belonging to Malone, the friend of Mr. Phelim O'Neale, (to whom it
may be recollected that the latter had addressed a few lines;) at the
same time the colonel and his servant having also resumed their proper
costume, forthwith attended Doctor M'Kenzie, who proceeded to the abbey,

    --------------------"where the Reverend Abbot
    With all his convent honourably received him."

And not only the Reverend Clerk, but Colonel Davidson and his servant
likewise were hospitably received, and kindly entertained by the
good-natured monks.

The next day Doctor M'Kenzie was so severely indisposed from the wetting
which he received during his journey, that it was found necessary to
call in medical aid. A slight fever seized him, which confined him for
two weeks to his bed; and when he arose he found himself so weak and
debilitated, that the physician strenuously recommended him to try the
waters of Pyrmont so soon as he should be sufficiently recovered to
undertake the journey. Finding his fellow-voyager and sufferer now
somewhat recovered, Colonel Davidson prepared to take his departure, and
having affectionately embraced the Rev. Gentleman, and cordially shaken
hands with the good abbot and his hospitable brethren, the colonel,
accompanied by his servant, proceeded to Dunkirk, where he safely
arrived after a few hours travel, and from thence it was his intention
to proceed for Holland by way of Rotterdam.

After a few weeks' sojourn at the Carthusian convent, where the Reverend
Chaplain received every hospitality, kindness, and attention, that it
was in the power of the reverend brotherhood to bestow, with many a kind
_valete et benedicite_ he departed, finding himself sufficiently strong
to endure the fatigues of a land journey. The doctor set out for
Westphalia to benefit his health by using the mineral waters of Pyrmont,
and after several days, having travelled by slow stages, he safely
reached his destination.

But it is now full time, indeed, that we should return to the Duchess of
Tyrconnel, and accompany that amiable lady and her highly gifted
daughter, the lovely Adelaide, in their voyage and journey; from whom
the occurrences of important political events and the fatal scenes of
war, have too long detained us, but of whom an account may be found in
the succeeding chapter.




                              CHAPTER V.

    Nos patriæ fines, et dulcia linquimus arva;
    Nos patriam fugimus.

                                             VIRGIL.

    Round the wide world in banishment we roam,
    Forc'd from our pleasing fields and happy home.

                               DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION.


Sad and sorrowful ever is the parting hour when beloved friends
separate, perchance never more to meet again! But oh, how sad must that
separation prove if not accompanied with the consoling hope--"we yet
shall meet again!" The Duke of Tyrconnel was then departing from his
beloved wife and darling daughter, yet no enlivening hope allayed the
feverish throbbing of his heart, with the bland promise, "we yet shall
meet again!" Deep, bitter, and gloomy were the parting pangs and
presages when these affectionate friends separated, destined, perchance,
never more to meet! Still manfully the duke concealed the wound which
rankled in his breast, and with promptitude made ready to follow the
fallen fortune of his fallen master. He recommended that the duchess
should, without procrastination, depart for England, and retire thence
to the continent, until such time as the political tempest which was
raging should subside. It was also proposed that the duke and duchess
should at the same time depart for their respective destinations, and
the determination, upon the same day it was resolved on, was carried
into effect. The plan was, that the duchess, Lady Adelaide, Ladies
Letitia and Lucy, escorted by Sir Patricius Placebo, should proceed to
England, _viâ_, or rather _mari_, to Parkgate, thence journey onward to
Chester, only twelve miles distant, remain there a few days with their
kind friends Doctor Cartwright, bishop of Chester, and his lady; and
next set off for the most convenient port to embark for France. Thence
make a _detoùr_ to the Netherlands, and take up their residence in the
city of Brussels, where the Duchess d'Aremberg, Adelaide's godmother,
resided.

The duke accompanied his family to the packet which was to convey them
from their native shores, possibly for ever! The parting scene was
exceedingly affecting, the duchess, rallying all her fortitude, was
enabled to address the duke ere they fondly embraced and parted, in
these empassioned words:--"Go forth, my dear lord!" said the duchess.
"Go, my beloved lord, where every filial tie calls your attendance,
where glory, your country, and your king, demand your presence. Go, and
the god of battles be your guide and guard! But the wife of Tyrconnel
breathes no sigh--the wife of Tyrconnel sheds no tear at her loved
lord's departure. Had he remained ingloriously at home then there would
have been too ample cause for lamentation; the blush of every feeling
cheek, and the throb of every manly heart, would have revolted at
conduct so base and selfish. But, thank heaven, this is not--it could
not be! Go forth then, my dearest lord, and the blessings of a wife and
of a mother ever attend thee!"

Adelaide, however, could not command those feelings which were
instinctive to her sensitive feelings, she sobbed and wept deep and
bitterly; she endeavoured to check the rooted sorrow which was preying
on her heart, but the attempt was all in vain, her affection burst forth
more strongly from her endeavour to counteract it; and tears of sorrow
for her father's departure flowed in deep succession. The duke was
highly affected with this parting scene; yet sternly checking himself,
he said:--"My dearest Adelaide this must not be; virtue carried to
excess--honour carried to excess, lose all their original intrinsic
worth. Nay, even religion may be transmuted into persecution; and
eternal silence and seclusion from the world be considered as its divine
attributes, so that each shall lose all the original stamp of their
native worth. I therefore tell you, my dearest daughter, that this must
not be; I shall, with the permission of divine providence, so soon as it
shall be in my power, rejoin you all in a foreign land upon my return
from attending my revered monarch to Saint Germains. And, my beloved,
although we shall have lost our rank, and reside as persons quite
unknown--perhaps wholly unnoticed; yet, my dearest Adelaide, we shall
nevertheless retain that which is much dearer to the human breast,
self-esteem, and social love, and social leisure, and these undisturbed
by courtly crowds, unchanged by time or circumstance, or loss of power.
These social ties too well I know, my dearest child, are dearer to thee
than wealth, rank, pomp, and power; and believe me truly we shall feel
far happier than ever we felt before. So I pray thee, dearest Adelaide,
that we may have no more of sorrow or repining, for all will yet be
well!"

The duke affectionately embraced his duchess, Adelaide, and his sisters,
and cordially shook hands with Sir Patricius Placebo; when having
descended the side of the vessel, his Grace jumpt into the boat which
conveyed him to the shore, and entered his carriage which waited for
him, to attend upon the fallen fortunes of his fallen master. When
intimation was given to Sir Patricius that he was to proceed to England,
and take charge of the duchess and family, _certes_ he received the
communication not without some portion of surprise, and of pleasure too
we must admit: "_Jacta est alea, jacta est alea!_" he exclaimed: "The
dye is thrown, so now 'For England Ho!' ha, ha, ha! As Prince Hamlet
says in the play, 'For England Ho!' ehem!--

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!"

The packet, with all her canvass unfurled, and proudly swelling before a
brisk and favouring breeze, promptly set sail onward in her direct
course for the seaport of Parkgate,[21] in Cheshire. The day was
uncommonly fine, and a warm exhilarating summer sun refulgently shone
forth, richly gilding the expanding sails of the vessel, and with its
genial enlivening rays cheering the voyagers, who sat beneath an awning
upon the deck. By this time Adelaide, pursuant to the monitory parting
injunctions of her father, had become tranquil and composed. While
receding from the beloved shores of her native land, Adelaide was
particularly struck with the romantic headlands and mountains that,
south and north, bounded the horizon--the romantic peninsula of Howth,
the hoary promontory of Wicklow-head, the conic hills "the
Sugar-loaves," so denominated from their peculiar conformation; the long
continuous chain of the Dublin and Wicklow mountains which adorned the
southern point of the horizon, while anon they melted into distant
aërial perspective. Adelaide was at once charmed and delighted with the
scene, which called forth from her pen the following effusion:--

    [21] Parkgate _had been_ a seaport of Cheshire for several years;
    it is situated at the mouth of the river Dee, ten miles distant
    from Chester, and one hundred and ninety-four from London. It has
    _now_ ceased to be a port, the entrance to the harbour being
    choked by sand banks.

                                 TO HOPE.

    Hope dispels the mists of woe,
    And with the sun's resplendent glow
    Illumes poor wand'rers on their way;
    Like polar star, whose argent light
    Gems the dark diadem of night,
    And sheds a heav'nly guiding ray.

    Hope helms the bark mid these wild seas,
    Where the white swelling billows roar;
    The seaman cheers, to brave the breeze,
    And steer the prow for Albion's shore.

    The sun illumes yon mountain's brow--
    'Tis gone, and all's in shadow now!
    So flits the vision of the past
    Joy's sunny beam is soon o'ercast!

    Happy my days while yet a child,
    When blandly hope my hours beguiled;
    Like green Oäsis on the sun-burnt plain,
    And Hope doth still her syren charms retain!

Little of interest, and still less of variety, the reader can reasonably
expect to have narrated in a short sea-voyage from the shores of Erin to
those of Albion; but on the contrary, much tameness, much sameness, and
much monotony, must necessarily be encountered by the voyager.

However, the breeze blew propitious, the weather smiled a settled and
serene summer day; the resplendent azure of the sky was unruffled by a
cloud, the sun was warm, and the scene proved genial and exhilarating,
as onward the gallant bark ploughed her watery way.

A numerous host of seagulls circled in many a merry gambol around the
vessel, then right-joyously plunged into the water, and boomed upon the
billow, while they seemed to rejoice in the summer sun, and sport on
halcyon tide; while ever and anon the Diver (_Colymbus Troile_) plunged
beneath the glassy surface of the sea; a large flock of _Terns_, or
sea-swallows (_sterna hirundo_) congregated about the vessel, flying
around in quick and circling evolutions; now rising from, now sinking in
the deep, in frolic play, then gliding along close to the surface of the
sea; sometimes snapping at the insects in their way, or then suddenly
checking their course, they were seen to dart down upon their finny
prey, which was swallowed in the ascent, without the operation by any
means retarding the progress of their flight.

The gallant vessel throughout the entire day had joyously scudded onward
in a prosperous course before the favouring breeze, and in no longer
space than fifteen hours from her departure from the port of Dublin, had
arrived at the mouth of the river Dee. But the tide was at this time at
ebb, which of necessity retarded the landing of the passengers, as
likewise from other co-operating difficulties, the dangerous sand-banks
which blockade this harbour, and above all, the total _deficit_ of deep
water, a difficulty not to be surmounted, left no choice whatever to the
captain but to cast anchor, and cause the packet to remain at her
moorings to await the morning tide, which, consequently, put the
patience of the voyagers much to task.

The passengers paced the deck to and fro, while they amused themselves
with whatever object caught their eye, ear, or fancy; the operations of
the crew, the passing sail, the darkening cloud, the sea-fowl retiring
to rest, or the slow and hollow murmurs of the receding wave as it
foamed, while it retreated, from the adjoining sands of the winding Dee.

At this time the passengers became highly and deeply interested by
seeing, or imagining that they saw, human beings upon one of the distant
sand-banks, whom the returning tide inevitably would destroy. The
telescope was put in requisition, and this only confirmed their fears;
for in the days we mention, no Dollond, no Ramsden, was in existence; of
course the lenses were dim and defective, and objects, instead of being
duly reflected, were misrepresented to the eye. From the repeated
remonstrances and apprehensions of the passengers the jolly-boat was
lowered into the water, the boatmen briskly plyed the oar, and soon
reached Dee's yellow sands. When lo! those whom they had come to rescue,
as they imagined, from a watery grave, suddenly took wing, and flew
away![22] Yes, gentle reader, too true it is; for the objects which had
attracted the attention and the sympathy of the passengers were no more
nor less than a large company of cormorants,[23] who somewhat hungry no
doubt, had been busily fishing for their supper, and were at the moment
they were disturbed by the approach of the boat, in the very overt act
of despatching their meal upon the banks of the Dee, who thus suddenly
took flight, croaking in hoarse, hollow, and discordant shrieks, their
disappointment at being interrupted from their evening banquet; for
these stern, sullen, and circumspect plunderers, are most greedy and
insatiate gluttons. The great Milton, in his immortal poem, finishes the
sketch of this unrelenting tyrant, by causing Satan to personate the
corvorant,[24] while envying the happiness of our first parents, as
undelighted he surveyed the beauties of Paradise.

        "Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life,
        The middle tree, and highest there that grew,
        Sat like a cormorant; yet not true life
        Thereby regain'd, but sat devising death
        To them who lived."[25]

    [22] This circumstance, as detailed above, actually occurred at
    Parkgate several years ago.

    [23] Or Corvorant, the _Pelicanus Carbo_ of Linneus.

    [24] "In England (according to Willoughby) the cormorants were
    hood-winked in the manner of the falcons, until they were let off
    to fish, and a leather thong was tied round the lower part of
    their necks in order to prevent them swallowing the fish."
    Whitlock also mentions, that he had a cast of them _manned_ like
    hawks, which would come to hand. He took much pleasure in them,
    and observes, "that the best he had was one presented to him by
    Mr. Wood, Master of the Corvorants to King Charles I."

    [25] Paradise Lost, Book IV.

But it is now full time to say that a calm night succeeded the tranquil
day of our fair heroine's voyage, that the duchess and all the party
enjoyed a most refreshing night's repose. Upon the return of the tide
the raising of the anchors and unfurling of the sails awoke the
passengers, who accordingly arose, and ascended the deck. The morning
was most lovely; it was then between seven and eight o'clock, the tide
was full in, and brilliantly shone forth a July sun, whose cheering
beams illumined the sea and all the surrounding scenery. The vessel was
once more under weigh, they crossed the bar of Chester; and in less than
an hour and a half they were at anchor off Parkgate. The long boat was
put out, and our heroine for the first time trod upon English ground. An
excellent breakfast was prepared for the voyagers at "The Welch Harp,"
and very soon smoked upon the board. The carriages and horses of the
noble personages were landed in the space of about two hours' time, in
perfect safety; for at this period seamen were not so experienced in the
tackle and machinery necessary for this purpose as they are in our own
days.

When breakfast was concluded the noble party sauntered along the
sea-shore, and Sir Patricius having proposed to them a walk along the
pathway to the very beautifully situated and retired village of Neston,
and the proposal having met with universal approbation, was soon carried
into effect. And upon return the thanks of the noble party were voted,
_viva voce_, to Sir Patricius, without one dissentient _no!_

Upon their return the travelling carriages were all duly paraded in
harnessed array before the door of the inn, and ready for the road,
which however, by the bye, proved to be none of the best. In a short
time the distinguished travellers started, but the journey, although in
distance not more than ten miles, ended in a long and fatiguing one from
the badness of the road, and the delay consequent thereon; the first
three or four miles were over deep sands, and the remainder of the way
was over a rough and badly paved road, which continued without
intermission until they reached the gates of ancient Chester. Sir
Patricius stoutly insisted that this road had been paved by the Romans,
and reminded him, he observed, strongly of the _Via Appia_[26] which is
noticed by Horace. "Ah!" said he, "in achieving victories, in forming
camps, and making of roads and cheese, the Romans were a great people
indeed!"

    [26] The _Via Appia_ which is noticed by Horace in his journey to
    Brundusium, "_Minus est gravis Appia tardis_."

The ladies complained of fatigue, having been much shaken and jolted on
their tiresome journey; but Sir Patricius Placebo solemnly averred, that
the only effect which he had experienced was, that it had strongly
created in him a most immoderate hunger, excited, no doubt, as he
supposed it had been, by the heat and action of shaking, jolting, &c.;
all which keenly operating upon the gastric juice, withal had acted with
such an impetus and energy, to which, in sooth, he was wholly
unaccustomed, had, he was free and honest to confess, called forth so
very unexpected a craving for food! But Sir Patricius was ever upon the
_qui vivè_, and was sure warily to be provided with a pretext, like
proverb-loving Sancho, whenever he wished that a _dejeûné a là
fourchette_, or a collation, should be put in requisition.

The noble party were set down at the noted and far-famed "White Lion,"
where compassionating the _fames Canina_ under which poor Sir Patricius
languished, a cold collation was called for, where, amid various meats
and pastries, a cold and excellent pigeon-pie attracted his hungry
attention, and ere long the contents thereof suddenly disappeared, and
then he seemed to be relieved from the evident distress under which he
had incontinently laboured. This operation was promptly succeeded by a
liberal libation (as a salutary condiment to the pigeon-pie) of some
excellent old Hock, the _anno domini_ of which was unknown to honest
Boniface of "the White Lion."

The ladies too were induced to take some slight refreshment; when the
baronet, who now seemed himself again, proposed a walk to the ladies,
which he thought would both please and refresh them; and that which he
selected was around the walls of this ancient and singular city. This
proposition being readily acceded to, the party set forth upon their
intended peregrination.

Sir Patricius seemed to be more inclined to the talking mood than he had
been disposed to previous to the collation; and made several very
apposite remarks during the progress of their walk, which were
particularly addressed to the duchess.

"This truly ancient, venerable city, was called by the Romans, _Colonia
Deva_, or _Devana_, from its having been the station of the XXth
Victorious Legion. It is evident that _Deva_ means

    "The ancient hallow'd Dee."

"_This city without parallel_ is of Roman origin, as is fully evinced by
the form of the city, which is completely Roman, being constructed in
the peculiar figure which the Romans always preserved in their stations
or castrametations, wheresoever the nature of the ground would permit.
The plan or figure of this city is a peculiar one; in shape it is
quadrangular, with four principal gates leading to the four principal
streets, which run directly from east to west, and north to south;
besides a variety of lesser ones, all crossing each other at right
angles, so as to divide the whole into lesser squares. The form likewise
of the walls is also Roman, which are the only entire specimen of
ancient fortification now in great Britain. The walls, as you may
perceive, are in many parts, especially on the north and east sides,
guarded by towers placed in such a position as not to be beyond bow-shot
of one another, in order that the archers might reach the enemy who
attempted to attack the intervals. They also are mostly of a round form,
as was recommended by the Roman architects, in order the better to elude
the force of catapulta and battering-rams."

Here Sir Patricius (in which we shall not follow him) delivered a very
erudite antiquarian lecture upon salient angles, action and reaction,
salient towers, _propugnaculi_, and the whole range of Roman military
architecture.

He next observed: "Chester is a city and county of itself; the Dee river
half encircles it by a winding curve, flowing from east to west, where,
nearly at about twenty miles distance in its course, it empties itself
into the Irish channel. Look down, my lady Duchess, from these walls,
upon the objects below, and you will then appreciate their great
height. Originally they were constructed for defence, but they are now
converted into a promenade for the health and recreation of the
inhabitants; and indeed I must do them the justice to say, that they
keep them in excellent repair. The walls are so narrow in some
particular places that only two persons, as you must observe, can walk
abreast. The circumference of the walls extends to one mile
three-quarters, and a hundred and one yards, ehem! _be the same more or
less_, as the gentlemen of the long robe might express it."

In their progress around the walls, the ladies all were highly pleased
by the surrounding scenery, and none more so than the Lady Adelaide:--

"How beautiful are the views from several parts of these venerable
walls! How luxuriantly green the pastures that margin these walls, and
that beautiful spot, the race-course!"

"Which, my lady," rejoined Sir Patricius, "they now call popularly
Roodee, but the orthography is Rood-eye.[27] This beautiful pasture
ground belongs to the corporation, and comprises eighty-four acres.
Yonder are the mountains of Flintshire and Derbyshire; there the hills
of Broxton; while the insulated rock of Beeston, crowned with its
romantic castle, forms the back-ground of the picture upon which your
Ladyship seems to gaze with such delight; while the landscape is still
further enlivened by the devious winding of the Dee, in its majestic
circling course to Boughton."

    [27] "The piece of ground without the walls, on which the annual
    horse-races of Chester are run, cannot well be passed over in
    silence. The Dee, after quitting the contracted pass at the
    bridge, flows beneath an incurvated clayey cliff, and washes on
    the right a fine and extensive meadow, long since protected
    against its ravages by a lofty dike: it is called Rood-eye.

    "The name of this spot is taken from _Eye_, its watery situation,
    and _Rood_, the cross which stood there, whose base is still to be
    seen. On this place the lusty youth of former days exercised
    themselves in the manly sports of the age, in archery, running,
    leaping, and wrestling; in mock fights, and gallant and romantic
    triumphs.

    "A _standard_ was the prize of emulation in the sports celebrated
    on the _Rood-eye_. But in the year 1609 the amusements took a new
    form; and under the reign of the peaceful JAMES the youthful
    cavaliers laid aside their mimic war, and horse-racing commenced.

    "The first prizes we hear of after the suppression of the
    triumph, were a bell and bowl to be run for on Saint George's day,
    which were provided in 1609 by Mr. Robert Amery, formerly Sheriff
    of the city, and were brought down to the _Rood-eye_ with great
    solemnity. This seems to have been the origin of the plate given
    by the city, and annually ran for on the same day to the present
    time. A bell was a common prize. A little golden bell was the
    reward of victory in 1607 at the races near York; whence came the
    proverb, for success of any kind, _to bear the bell_."--_Pennant's
    Tour through Wales_, vol. I. pp. 253, 254, 255, 256, 257.

While walking around the walls of Chester, the duchess and her party
encountered a handsome young stranger, who was also promenading this
frequented walk.--We have already premised the narrowness of the walls,
that they in some parts only admitted two persons to walk abreast.--The
stranger, to make way, retired to a small recess nigh one of the towers,
and courteously bowed as the party passed onward.

His eyes were deeply rivetted upon the Lady Adelaide, while her's
seemed as intently fixed upon him. Thrice during their walk, in a
similar manner, they encountered the stranger; at the last meeting it so
happened that Adelaide (accidentally, no doubt,) dropped her glove just
as the stranger met her; he raised it from the ground, and in the most
courteous and graceful manner restored it. While in the act of returning
the glove to its fair owner, it so happened that his hand touched her's;
instantly the blood mounted to her cheek, and she deeply blushed; but
sweetly smiling, she politely thanked him, made her obeisance, and
passed on.

"Who can this stranger be?" thought Adelaide to herself. "He is surely
no ordinary being--none of the common-place creatures of this earth. And
oh, his fine manly beautiful countenance that seems born to command!"

Then, with a sigh, "she thought too that he looked likewise as if born
to love. Oh, what I would give (just from mere curiosity!) to know his
name and rank;--there can be no doubt but that he must be a person of
distinction."

After this mental soliloquy she hastened to rejoin the duchess and her
aunts. They all now returned to "the White Lion;" and the next day was
to be devoted to their visit to the episcopal palace, to pay their
respects to the Bishop of Chester and Mrs. Cartwright. The evening
proving remarkably fine, Sir Patricius ventured to propose a walk to the
ladies, to view the interior of the city, the shops, "the rows," &c. As
they passed along, they observed that many of the houses were of wood,
and most of them built of brick, and wooden frame-work, alternately
painted black and white, in certainly a most coffin-like fashion. The
pinnacles and gables, they observed, were adorned with various curious
and grotesque carvings. Sir Patricius seemed now very anxious to display
all his gothic lore.

"This, my Lady Duchess," he observed, "is in verity a most ancient,
venerable city; and perhaps the most striking of the many peculiarities
in which it abounds are these remarkable covered galleries, or, as they
are ycleped, 'Rows,' which extend the entire length on each side of many
of the streets in front of the range of shops, which are covered over
head, and you ascend them from the four principal streets by flights of
stairs. The effect is as if the front room in every first floor was
scooped out, and the upper stories of the premises supported on pillars,
while the lower tier of rooms, thus purloined, are occupied as shops.
The space thus scooped out forms a covered gallery on each side of the
street, with a ballustrade or railing in front, over which various goods
are flung for exposure to the public--namely, silks, stuffs, shawls, &c.
This ballustrade faces the street; the back parlours of each house thus
circumstanced are converted into rows of shops, and are a great
convenience to the public, from the facility of passing from street to
street, effectually secured from rain or heat, affording a sheltered
walk in winter and a shady one in summer to both inhabitants and
strangers. The streets had been excavated out of the earth, and are in
many places several feet below the surface. The carriages drive far
below the levels of the kitchens, on a line with the range of shops.

"There can be no question, my Lady, whatever," added Sir Patricius,
looking very knowingly, and taking with much gravity a pinch of snuff
from his Carolus snuff-box, "there can be no doubt," said he, "but that
these 'rows' are precisely the same as the ancient _vestibules_, and
appear evidently to have been a form of building preserved from the time
that this city was possessed by the Romans. These _vestibules_ were
built before the doors, midway between the streets and the houses, and
were the places where dependants waited for the coming forth of their
patrons, and under which they might walk, and pass away the tedious
minutes of expectation. Plautus, in the third act of his _Mostellaria_,
describes both their situation and their use,[28] namely, that the
vestibule in front of the house answered the purpose of a piazza, or
covered gallery. The shops beneath these 'rows' were certainly the
_cryptæ_ and _apothecæ_, the magazines and repositories for the various
necessaries of the owners of the houses."

    [28] 'Viden' vestibulum ante ædes, et ambulacrum ejusmodi?

The party had now descended from the rows, and pursued their route under
one of the arched gateways ascending from the walls, when who should at
this time be seen but the youthful stranger whom they had encountered in
their morning walk. He took off his hat and lowly bowed. Adelaide,
blushing, returned the salute, being the only one of the party who had
caught a glimpse of him--the duchess and her sisters listening in
wonderment at the learned lore which Sir Patricius had displayed and
poured forth with such wondrous volubility; and he was himself, in
sooth, too much occupied by his own eloquence, to see, to hear, to think
of ought but old Plautus, the _Colonia Devana_, and the Roman
centurions!

The duchess and her party having returned to "the White Lion," tea was
immediately ordered; and as Sir Patricius had most ably done his part
at the morning collation as well as at dinner, he thought it only
decorous to go supperless to bed, which deficit he was, however,
resolved to make up from the supplies of the tea-table. They all shortly
retired to rest, the ladies complaining that they had not as yet got the
tossing of the vessel from their heads, nor the shaking of the Roman
paved way from their shoulders.

"After all," said Sir Patricius, "however, commend me the Romans,
whether for their armies, their victories, for making roads, or
manufacturing cheese!"

The duchess took this as the signal for departing, aware that if this
topic were once begun, it would prove no easy matter to stop Sir
Patricius in his eulogium on the Romans.

The next day, at meet season and time, the duchess, attended by her
party, drove to the episcopal palace, and found the bishop and his lady
at home, expecting their arrival. But it is necessary that the reader
should be previously introduced to the bishop and his lady.

The Right Reverend Doctor Cartwright, Lord Bishop of Chester, was in the
sixty-first or second year of his age, and having passed by the sunny
side of his sexagesimal year, was verging fast to his grand climacteric;
he enjoyed a strong and healthy old age. Piety was stamped on his fine
expanded brow, and benevolence and good-humour sparkled in his eyes, and
played upon his lips; his eyes were hazel, large and intelligent,
beaming beneath his deep black eye-brows; his nose was aquiline; his
figure tall and graceful. He wore a black camlet riding-coat; his hat
was of the episcopal fashion; his peruke was bushy and well powdered;
and in his right hand he carried an ivory-headed cane, not from
necessity, but from choice.

Mrs. Cartwright was somewhat further advanced in years than her Right
Reverend Lord. She had never, even in youth, been accounted handsome;
however, the expression of her countenance was pleasing, and accompanied
withal by a liveliness and good-humour, approaching somewhat the _vis
comica_, but in no way allied to the satirical. Mrs. Cartwright was a
plain, honest, excellent woman, possessed of a good understanding, and
considered in those times as being well informed. No heart was ever
found more fond of doing a kind, generous, and benevolent act, many of
which are on record; but this was none of her seeking, as no one
disliked ostentation more than what she did; her desire was to do good
without its being promulgated. The bishop and his lady never had any
children, but they were too wise and grateful to make themselves
miserable upon this account, and lived contented and happy upon those
blessings which providence had bounteously bestowed, without vainly and
impiously repining for what they never had possessed. Loving and
beloved, this couple lived mated and matched, regarded and respected by
all ranks and conditions in society. They were never weary of
well-doing; daily acts of charity, hospitality, generosity, and
kindness, emanated from the kind and excellent feelings congenial to
them both; indeed they fully verified the words of the inspired
Psalmist: "The voice of joy and health is in the dwellings of the
righteous."

Such were the Bishop of Chester and his lady, to whom the duchess and
her train now presented themselves, and by whom they were most warmly
and affectionately received.

"Welcome! most heartily welcome, my good, excellent, worthy Lady
Duchess," exclaimed the bishop, warmly taking her Grace by the hand; at
the same moment almost she was cordially embraced by Mrs. Cartwright.

"A kind and warm welcome to you and yours," continued the bishop. Then
looking intently at Adelaide, he pressed warmly her hand, saying to the
duchess, "Beshrew my heart, but, lady, thy daughter is most passing
fair, exceeding fair; nor hath fame in aught out-heralded the Lady
Adelaide's beauty!"

The duchess made a low courtesy, and thanked his lordship for his polite
gallantry. "But," said the duchess in an under tone, "when, my Lord, you
shall know more of my daughter, I trust that you will like her mind
better then than now you like her visage." Next, aloud, her Grace said,
"My daughter has reason, my lord, to be proud of your praise, for
_laudari a laudato_--your lordship knows the rest."

"No, my Lady Duchess, no! I am no orator, and, I thank God, no
politician! I am no great man, albeit I am a peer spiritual, and so
forth; therefore my praise on that score can be of but little value
indeed!"

"Not so, my Lord, the praise of a good man ever is of value."

The bishop bowed. His Lordship next proposed a walk in his garden; and
then they adjourned to Chester walls, which closely adjoin the palace,
to promenade until dinner. Adelaide looked to the left and right, but
"the unknown knight of Chester walls" was not to be seen. Upon their
return to the episcopal palace dinner was ready, and soon smoked upon
the hospitable board. It was a sumptuous entertainment. The bishop
having helped the ladies, soon discovered that Sir Patricius was in
complete possession of the _scavoir vivre_.

"I warmly recommend you; Sir Placebo--Sir Patricius, I beg your
pardon--to have some Severn salmon, or some choice dories, caught in the
Llyn; and I do think, above all, that I can speak in positive
commendation of some stewed carp, which is truly delicious. I saw them
caught yesterday (for I am fond of fishing) in that _Piscosus amnis_,
which we call the Vyrnyn."

"No, my Lord, I thank you, I have just made a grand assault, _vi et
furca_, upon your venison, which is actually the finest I have ever
enjoyed. The lean is so ruddy and the fat is so white, that I think, my
Lord, I shall just try a _modicum_ more, [the fourth time he was
helped!] and some sweet sauce withal!"

Indeed the opinion and "great capabilities," to use his own phrase, of
Sir Patricius Placebo, at a well-chosen dinner, were never yet, even by
his enemies, considered as apocryphal; and in the culinary calendar this
notable day was deserving of a mark of approbation, and should be held
in savoury remembrance by every follower of Epicurus. The first and
second course removed, cheese was put down, to which Sir Patricius
helped himself liberally.

"My Lord, your Cheshire is positively excellent. We are indebted to the
victorious _Colonia Devana_ for it. To these same Roman centurions who
introduced the art of cheese-making, until then unknown in England, into
Cheshire; and for my part, my Lord; to adventure upon a pun, I would
call this admirable cheese _divina_.--Ha, ha, ha! It is every way
deserving of the _Cretâ notanda_ of Horace, or the _Cretâ notare_ of
Persius: it should truly be marked with white chalk in the calendar!"

"It seems, Sir Patricius, that you are disposed to _chalk your cheese_
with a note of admiration!--eh? Ha, ha, ha. However, I certainly agree
with you that the art of cheese-making to be the most valuable memorial
which the Romans have left us, and in an especial manner to this
country. Indeed so extensively was cheese-making carried on that these
cohorts exported large quantities of cheese, not only to the distant
colonies, but even to imperial Rome herself!"

"Most true, my Lord; and to such perfection has it been brought, that it
is now (_me judice_) far superior to any imported from classic Italy, or
dull, plodding Batavia. Centuries have passed by, and Rome's centurions
have mixed their dust with the defunct Cæsars, but Cheshire cheese still
holds its high estimation; and long may it do so, while British palates,
teeth, and taste remain--_Semperque manebit!_"

A magnificent dessert, crowned with the oldest and choicest wines,
concluded this princely banquet, and each day's entertainment, although
varied, was equally as splendid as the feast we have recorded.

The next day being the sabbath day, all the guests accompanied Mrs.
Cartwright to the cathedral, (where the bishop was to preach) and sat in
that lady's seat in the gallery. As soon as the service was over the
party proceeded to inspect this grand and venerable pile.

"The cathedral of Chester was built," as the bishop informed the
duchess, "during the reigns of Henry VI., VII., VIII." He observed that
there was much to admire in the beautiful west end of the nave. "The
window over the door is richly adorned with much tasteful tracery, and
architrave of the door enriched with figures and other subjects in
sculpture. The choir is considered handsome, and the gothic tabernacle
work over the stalls is carved in a light and elegant manner. The arches
in the galleries are divided by slender pillars of admirable
conformation."

His Lordship then came to the bishop's throne, which he pointed out as
standing on a stone base; and he observed that the form was an oblong
square, or parallelogram, which was remarkable for its sculpture, each
side being richly ornamented with gothic carvings, with arches and
pinnacles. Around the upper part of the canopy stands a range of little
images, designed to represent the kings and saints of the Mercian
kingdom. The party now advanced to the chancel, where there are four
stone stalls for the officiating priests, richly ornamented above with
carved gothic work. The duchess and Lady Adelaide particularly admired
the magnificent piece of tapestry which adorns the altar; it represents
Elmias the sorcerer struck blind by Saint Paul. The design is taken from
one of the cartoons of Raffaelle, and the execution is truly admirable.

The bishop and his noble guests returned to the palace, where a
magnificent dinner was prepared for them, and the bishop entertained Sir
Patricius Placebo, so soon as the ladies retired, with "_A brief and
succinct account_," as his lordship termed it, "of the ecclesiastical
state of the ancient city of Chester." But as two flasks of old Burgundy
disappeared during the narration, we are somewhat apprehensive that it
would prove rather heavy on our reader's hands, and therefore we shall
in _toto_ decline the discussion.

The duchess and her family having very pleasantly passed a week at the
palace, now prepared for their regretted departure, and next sadly to
bid an affectionate farewell. Mrs. Cartwright obtained a promise from
the duchess of writing to her as soon as her Grace should reach either
Amiens or Lille. They proceeded to the town of Tarporly, and thence to
Wrexam, where they stopped to change horses and to take some
refreshment.

Wrexam is the largest town in North Wales, and its parish the most
numerous; it is the principal town of Denbighshire. Struck by the beauty
and airy lightness of the lofty tower of Wrexam church, the duchess and
Lady Adelaide resolved, while the necessary operations at the inn were
going forward, to wend their way to visit this fine gothic pile; and Sir
Patricius, "albeit," as he said himself pleasantly enough upon the
occasion, "although he was much more addicted, he must needs confess, to
the _memento vivere_ than the _memento mori_" yet, nevertheless, right
gallantly esquired the ladies.

"The church of Wrexam is the glory not only of the place, but of North
Wales." The inside of the church is very spacious, and consists of a
nave, two aisles, and a chancel. Much grotesque carving surmounts the
capitals of the various pillars in the nave, and within the arches are
placed many armorial bearings of the ancient British and Saxon princes.
Many of the monuments which adorn the nave and the aisles are admirably
designed, and the sculpture exceedingly fine. The epitaphs are numerous
and curious: many a "_hic jacet_ Ap-Howel--Ap-Morgan--Ap-Jhones," may be
found in the church and in the church-yard. On the outside of the church
is placed a great variety of ludicrous and grotesque sculpture. The
steeple is an extremely handsome tower, richly ornamented on three sides
with rows of saints placed in rich gothic niches. Among the group is
that of Saint Giles, the patron saint of the church, with the hind that
so miraculously nourished him in the desert, as monkish legends tell. At
every angle of the church tower is a light turret, with a winding
stair-case, twenty-four feet high. The entire height of the church
tower, which is seen to a considerable distance, is one hundred and
twenty-five feet. The church was built in the reign of Henry VIII., and
is in the florid style of gothic architecture.

Know, gentle reader, that there occurred a little incident in Wrexam
church, which must needs have the additament of being known unto thee.
When the noble travellers entered the nave they were much struck by
beholding a robin perched upon a brass chandelier, which was suspended
from the ceiling in the nave, opposite to the reading-desk. The minister
was engaged in reading the Psalms, the clerk the responses; and the
robin expanding his wings, and straining his little throat, as if to
overpower and surpass their voices conjoined. The congregation consisted
of but three elderly ladies. It was of a week day, to which
circumstance, in all probability, was to be attributed the paucity of
the congregation.

This little occurrence produced the following lines from the pen of Lady
Adelaide:--

                            THE RED-BREAST,

                    IN WREXAM CHURCH, DENBIGHSHIRE,

    I roam'd on a cheerful bright summer morning,
    The sun, unclouded, the hills was adorning;
    My heart beat in transport, but brief was the hour,
    When onward I hasten'd for Wrexam's famed tow'r,
    A feeling I have--and that feeling it led,
    For pensive the pleasure to muse o'er the dead;
    And ponder o'er graves where the good are at rest;
    Who no son of sorrow yet ever oppress'd.
    "Glad tidings and peace" are of heavenly birth;
    Fulfil them, frail mortals, by kindness on earth!
    Oh, still the wise counsel, "Bear yet, and forbear!"
    We daily from wisdom sublunar may hear.
    The blest precept, "Forgive, and then be forgiv'n!"
    Is written alone in the records of heav'n.

    The church door I enter'd.--The morning was young;
    Delighted I heard a sweet Redbreast who sung:
    The notes were seraphic, distinct, shrill, and clear,
    Sweet Robin the choirist on high chandelier!
    Oft quiver'd his bosom, and flutter'd his wing,
    While matins he chanted to heaven's high King!
    The hour was early;--and time swiftly soon fled
    When Robin allur'd me from tombs of the dead.

    That space then sufficient I might not well spare
    An hour to devote in the temple of prayer.

    Farewell, tuneful warbler, farewell to thy lay,
    Which fondly I'll cherish for many a day!
    Far hence, all unwilling, from thee I depart;
    Impress'd be thy memory still on my heart!

The duchess and Lady Adelaide felt with much sensibility the contrariety
between the notes of the tuneful Redbreast and the nasal base of the
veteran clerk slowly drawling forth the responses. Lady Adelaide
compared the one to the other as the silvery tone of the Welch harp,
contrasted with the wintry gale that sweeps o'er Snowden.

From Wrexam, where the horses were baited, and our noble travellers
refreshed, they onward pursued their journey, passing through
Llangollen, and visiting its lovely vale. Highly pleased was every one
with the beautiful scenery through which they had passed, the course of
the Dee, and the windings of the Severn; while with gratified
recollections they thought on the very kind and hospitable reception
which they had experienced at Chester palace. They proceeded next by
way of Oswestry and Shrewsbury, on their route for Bristol; in the
performance of which journey, for the present, we must leave our
distinguished travellers.




                            CHAPTER VI.

    To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign,
    I turn; and France displays her bright domain.
    Gay, sprightly land of mirth and social ease,
    Pleased with thyself, whom all the world can please.

                                                     GOLDSMITH.


               LETTER FROM THE DUCHESS OF TYRCONNEL,

                             ADDRESSED

    "TO MY DEAR AND INTRINSICALLY ESTEEMED FRIEND, MRS. CARTWRIGHT, AT
    THE EPISCOPAL PALACE OF CHESTER."

                                  _Dated_, Lille, _August 12th_, 169--

"I now most willingly take up my pen to give you, my dear Madam, some
account of our voyage, and also of our journey, in fulfilment of the
promise which I made in parting from you and the worthy prelate at
Chester palace:--

"Well, we proceeded on our route to Bristol, where, you are aware, it
was our intention to have embarked for some safe port in France; at
Bristol in due course we arrived, _sans_ accident and _sans_ adventure
of any kind. But, lo and behold, we could find no vessel destined for
the fair shores of France! What was next to be done? why we set off, _au
désespoir_, for Dover. When we arrived at that seaport Sir Patricius
made instant inquiries for a packet, and was told that there was then
only one on the station, and that too was engaged. As he was retiring
from the beach who should he meet, think you? why none other than 'the
unknown knight' whom we had so often encountered on the walls of
Chester; this, you will freely admit, was rather somewhat extraordinary,
if not marvellous, certainly. Well, my dear Mrs. Cartwright, an
explanation took place, when this singular 'knight unknown' informed Sir
Patricius that he himself had engaged the packet, but that it was
exclusively at our service; and in the politest and most obliging manner
he relinquished it to us, and was so truly chivalrous as wholly to
decline a passage for himself.

"This was indeed nobly kind and generous, and we all felt it as such. At
our embarkation the graceful, interesting 'knight unknown' was on the
pier of Dover, and you never saw, my dear friend, with what a dignified
grace this _preúx_ chevalier handed us all on board, and how graciously
he bade us 'adieu.' My dear enthusiastic Adelaide is still further
convinced that he must be a prince _incognito_. He said, as we were
about to part, 'I understand that your Grace and family are now
departing on your way to Brussels.'

"I nodded assent. 'Shall we, pray, stand any chance,' I inquired, 'of
seeing you, Sir, in that ancient city?'

"The stranger hesitated. '_Perhaps_,' quoth he, 'my Lady Duchess.'

"Oh, if then you were to have seen the indignant glance that Lady
Letitia flung on the courteous stranger, while it would seem
involuntarily she echoed, or rather screamed, '_perhaps!_' For you must
know that to this adverb the Lady Letitia hath, and entertains an
entire, instinctive, and unconquerable detestation, to the very
extinction, I verily credit, of every other given adverb in English
grammar, be it _aye_, or be it _no_.

"'But,' continued the gallant stranger, 'I yet may speak in more decided
terms. It is my full determination to proceed to Brussels, unless ought
unforeseen and unexpected should arise to prevent it. I most
respectfully and sincerely wish your Grace and friends every prosperity,
a safe and expeditious voyage, and a pleasant journey.'

"Then bowing with all the grace of one who had been familiar with
courts, he took off his hat, which he several times waved on high, until
the packet got under weigh. I could not but observe that when he took
Adelaide by the hand to lead her on board, that my daughter coloured
most deeply. Indeed I cannot but apprehend that an _impression_ has been
made on her young and feeling heart. But this is _entré nous_. Is it not
most strange, and does it not look exceedingly like _love at first
sight_? But who can be 'the _unknown_ knight' of Chester walls? I can
form no opinion, but I am not certainly inclined to agree with Adelaide
that he is a prince _incognito_.

"But to resume my narrative:--We embarked at Dover on Friday morning, at
eight o'clock, on board a neutral vessel bound for Calais; it was a
Flemish packet, named _De Zee-Schilpad_, Captain Bulderende master. The
weather when we left Dover was fine, but the breeze soon became squally,
attended with heavy rain, and a rough and swelling sea; but in the event
our passage proved a good one. Many of the sailors were Flemish, and
some were French; and, I must say, the most lubberly and awkward I had
ever beheld, _pàr examplé_, one of them sat down to haul a rope! So that
really we felt far more indebted to the wind and waves than to the
nautical skill of either French or Flemish sailors. And I must own, and
am quite free to confess, that their inferiority to our own gallant
tars, in verity, did not displease me.

"Calais, as we approached it, is seen to much advantage, the spire of
_Notre Dame_, and the turrets of the _Maison de Ville_ nobly arising
over the waves, have certainly a fine and imposing effect; it is indeed
a neat and handsome town; the harbour presents a pleasant and enlivening
scene, and is defended by many forts. The citadel is strongly fortified,
and the city surrounded with walls, gates, &c. The parish church was
built by the English, and has been much admired for its architecture.
The fishery here for herrings and mackerel is considerable, and of both
kinds we partook with much _gout_ during our short sojourn in that
ancient city.

"You know what an incurable enthusiast my Adelaide is. During the entire
progress of our voyage, which occupied some five hours, the whole way
from Dover to Calais Adelaide sat on deck, and could not be prevailed
upon, by any persuasion or entreaty whatever, to descend into our cabin,
although the wind, which was fair, blew also fresh, and accompanied with
some showers; still stationed on deck sat Adelaide, intently gazing upon
the Shakespeare-cliffs,

        "From the dread summit of this chalky bourn;
        Look up a height ... the shrill gorg'd lark so far
        Cannot be seen or heard:--do but look up!"

"So intently did Adelaide gaze, that one would have thought that the
spell-bound charm that fascinated her looks to those lofty cliffs, could
only be broken and dispelled by the wand of the enchanter. The following
quatrain is my Adelaide's:--

        Ye chalky cliffs! unchang'd ye stand,
        As pencil'd by great Shakespeare's hand;
        Still to the clouds your summits rise,
        Nor perish until nature dies!

"Never once changing her position on deck sat the fair enthusiast, until
cliff and sky became commingled in one dark-blue mass, and soon
completely lost in aërial distance.

"We viewed the church of _Notre Dame_ at Calais, where there is an
ill-executed, clumsy statue of the Virgin and Child in statuary marble;
the walls are surrounded with paintings of Scriptural subjects, but the
design and the execution are very _mediocrè_. As we walked around the
walls of this memorable town, we could not but recollect, with the
deepest interest, that this city had for upwards of two hundred years
appertained to the crown of Britain;--that here had been manifested the
most generous and devoted love of country;--that here our own Edward
triumphed over the arms, as the benevolent Emma did over the hearts, of
the patriot citizens of Calais.

"Once more I tread the sunny region of merry France, endeared from
youthful recollection; once more too I tread the same soil that holds
him I love the best!--no, _not_ the BEST!--in this earthly globe, and no
longer two seas separate me from him whom I acknowledge by the two most
endearing titles of my husband, and my Adelaide's father. Yes, dearest
friend, this is consoling, and it is balm to the wearied heart of a poor
exile roaming in a far and foreign land!

"But I must continue our route:--From Calais we proceeded by
Boulogne-Sur-Mer of which I shall just observe, _en passant_, that it is
a handsome town, it is said of great antiquity, and is very remarkable
from the circumstance of its having been selected as the port from which
the Romans embarked when they invaded Britain; and here still remain the
fragments of a Roman tower built during the reign of Caligula. From
Boulogne we proceeded to Amiens, where we remained for a couple of days
to repose from the fatigues of our journey, and if it will not _fatigue_
you, you shall have a very brief sketch of that fine city.

"Amiens is a city of great antiquity, it was called _Ambianum_ by the
Romans, and is noticed by Cæsar in his Commentaries.--Amiens is the
capital of Picardy, and an episcopal See; it is the _Samaro-Briva_ of
the ancients. This city is situated on the navigable river Somme, which
traverses it in three branches, all which unite below the town, beneath
the bridge of St. Michael.

"Amiens is a rich and flourishing city, and abounds with numerous
manufactories; it is very pleasantly situated in a fertile and well
cultivated country. It is the residence of the governor of Picardy.[29]

      [29] Since the Revolution Amiens has become the capital of the
      department of the Somme, and there is no longer a governor of
      Picardy. Amiens has been remarkable in our days for the definitive
      treaty of peace signed in that city, 25th of March, 1802. The room
      where it was signed is shown to strangers.

"Amiens is encompassed by a wall and other fortifications, the ramparts
are planted with trees, which form an agreeable walk; the mall, called
_l'Autoy_, is also much admired as a delightful promenade. The houses
are well built, the streets are spacious, and the town is embellished
with regular handsome squares and public buildings; namely, the palace
of the Bailiwick, where the governor of Picardy resides, the _maison de
ville_, or town-hall, the citadel, the square, or _place des fleurs_,
and the great market square, all which are well deserving the attention
of the traveller. There are ten churches in this city, independent of
the great cathedral of _Notre Dame_, which is a truly sumptuous and most
magnificent pile, it is built in the florid style of gothic
architecture, and is accounted one of the finest cathedrals in France.
The nave of the church is greatly and deservedly admired. The building
contains numerous aisles, chapels, and altars, all gorgeously decorated
with shrines, statues, paintings, and monuments. Many of the statues are
of marble, as also the monuments; some others, for instance that of the
Bishop of Amiens, (whose name unluckily I have forgotten,) who founded
the cathedral, are of bronze. There are some oil paintings in the nave,
the subjects taken from Holy Writ, but the execution is very
indifferent.

"As we entered this venerable pile the priests and choir were chanting
the high mass, while the loud, solemn, pealing of the organ's swell
echoed from aisle to altar, wafted the soul beyond the narrow confines
of mortality. The grand altar was brilliantly lighted up, the perfumed
incense arose in clouds to the fretted ceiling, the congregation seemed
sunk in deep and dumb devotion; the service was enchantingly performed,
some exquisite voices assisted; and the scene was truly captivating and
impressive, much to charm the eye and move the heart.

"We have been at this place (Lille)[30] now for four days, but depart on
the morrow for Brussels; and indeed it is with regret that we leave this
delightful city, of which I adventure to give you a brief historical
detail:

"Lisle, or Lille, is a large and strongly fortified city in the
north-east of France, and the capital of French Flanders; it is situated
on the navigable river Deule. The origin of this town is ascribed by
tradition to Julius Cæsar, who is said to have built a castle on an
island in the Deule, whence it derived the name of Insula, Isla, and
eventually of Lisle; the Flemish name is Ryssel; the Latin, _Insula
Flandrorum_; it is now called Lille.

      [30] Since the French Revolution Lille has become the capital of
      the department of the north.

"Lille is situated in a dead flat, the soil whereof is rich and fertile,
and the people industrious. The Deule, although a small river, yet is
navigable, and is divided into several branches, parts of which supply
the moats of the citadel, and the fosses of the town; while one branch
of this river, called _La Basse Deule_, intersects the city. The form of
Lille is that of an irregular oval; it is a large and handsome town, its
appearance is imposing from its extent, its fortifications, its canals,
its bridges, its squares, and public buildings. It is assuredly one of
the handsomest cities of France; much architectural elegance is
displayed not only in private edifices, but particularly in the public
buildings, viz. _la bourse_, or the exchange, crowned with its cupola
and minaret, the barracks, the corn market, the theatre, five principal
hospitals, besides others. _La maison de ville_,[31] or town-hall,
adjoins the grand place, or square; it formerly had been the palace of
the Dukes of Burgundy; it was built in the year 1430 by Duke Philip the
Good.

      [31] The _Maison de Ville_ was destroyed by fire, November 17,
      A.D. 1700.

"Lille had been formerly the residence of the Foresters and Counts of
Flanders; it was founded by Baudouin, surnamed _Le Belle Barbe_, Count
of Flanders, so early as 1007. His son Baudouin Le Debonaire surrounded
the city with walls, and built the magnificent church of Saint Peter,
where he was interred; and in the middle of the nave of this cathedral
may be seen the tomb of its founder, who was also called by another
designation, _Baudouin of Lille_. Two Chapters of the order of the
Golden Fleece were held in this collegiate church of Saint Peter, the
first in 1431, the latter in 1436.

"There is in this church a beautiful chapel of our Lady of Treille,
which was built by Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, in which is to be
seen a beautiful _mausoleum_ of Bronze, where is represented the Count
Lewis de Male, Count of Flanders, placed between his wife Margaret and
his daughter.

"The other parish churches in this city are, St. Stephen, St. Maurice,
St. Saviour, St. Catherine, St. Andrew, and La Magdelaine. Lille has
seven gates:--1. Porte de La Barne. 2. De Notre Dame. 3. Des Malades. 4.
De Fives. 5. Saint Maurice. 6. Magdelaine. 7. Saint Andrew.

"This city, as, my dear friend, I have before observed to you, is the
capital of French Flanders, as it was anciently called _Flandria
Gallica_; and is one of the most populous, rich, and magnificent cities
in the entire circle of French Flanders.

"You will here, no doubt, my dear Madam, pause, and naturally enough
inquire why I should make this long _dètour_, when my ultimate
destination is Brussels;--what necessity should urge me to visit
Amiens?--why should I proceed to Lille?--why not start straight forward
at once for Brussels? I shall explain to you the cause, my dear friend,
as I hate mysteries, and prefer being candid in preference of appearing
absurd or inconsistent. There have been for these many years some near
and dear female connexions of mine, and likewise of the duke, who long
since have forsook the world, and who are abiding in this country, all
of whom have taken the veil; two sisters are stationed at Amiens within
the convent, or _Abbaye de St. Sepulchre_; and two other relatives have
retired here into the convent _des Soeurs Noirés_. These ladies are now
far advanced in years, and fast approaching that goal that one day we
all must ultimately reach. Could I then, my dear Madam, remain in the
same country, inhale the same air, and withal placed within a reasonable
distance, and it resting wholly in my power and inclination whether I
should see them for once, and perhaps for ever! or decline doing so? I
could not--I would not decline it! No earthly consideration could warp
or cause me to forego this duty! I have seen these venerable saints, for
such I believe them to be, and I am gratified that they are happy; at
least to me they appeared to be so, as they did to my daughter and
sisters. This must be the last time probably that I shall ever see them
imprisoned within those sad monastic walls, the world forgetting, and by
the world forgot! and the leave which I took of them resembled that sad,
solemn, and final farewell, which we receive from the departing voice of
those we regard at the close of their earthly pilgrimage!

"You shall hear from me again so soon as I am established at Brussels,
where I purpose to remain for a year certainly, and for which city we
start on the morrow. Until then, dearest friend, adieu.

                                  (_Signed_) KATHERINE TYRCONNEL."

"P. S.--Please, my dear, most kindly to present all our united
remembrances to your truly worthy lord and prelate. Once more farewell."

       *       *       *       *       *

The day subsequent to the writing of the foregoing epistle, as has been
determined upon, the duchess and Adelaide, the Ladies Letitia and Lucy,
escorted by Sir Patricius Placebo, departed from Lille on their route to
Brussels. The journey occupied the space of nearly three days; at the
expiration of which the illustrious _voyageurs_ safely arrived at the
noble, the ancient city of Brussels; the drivers were directed to stop
at the hotel _Du Flanders_, in preference to the hotel _d'Angleterrè_,
as it was the wish of the duchess to remain retired from any observance
or unnecessary intercourse with her countrymen; and instructed by the
political tone and temper of the times, courted privacy, not publicity;
and this was now the more necessary, as acts of attainder had been
proclaimed by King William against all the adherents and partisans of
King James the Second.




                                 CHAPTER VII.

    Erin my country! though sad and forsaken,
    In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore;
    But, alas! in a far, foreign land I waken,
    And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more!

                                                   CAMPBELL.


The apartments at the hotel _Du Flanders_ were not only roomy and
commodious, but were likewise fitted up with a considerable degree of
elegance. However, depressed by fatigue of body, as likewise overpowered
by anxiety of mind, the duchess and her fair and lovely daughter retired
at an early hour to repose, which example was as immediately followed by
the retiring of Ladies Letitia and Lucy, and Sir Patricius Placebo, to
their respective dormitories.

The duchess and Lady Adelaide had two beds stationed in the same
chamber, which always, during the absence of the duke, was invariably
the custom; and in the adjoining bed-chamber reposed the Ladies Letitia
and Lucy.

Sir Patricius was not neglectful of his personal comforts upon any
occasion, at least that has been recorded, and happy to find himself
once more stationary for a determinate time at Brussels, he emphatically
ejaculated his favourite sentence--

    DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

and soon was enfolded in the silken fetters of Morpheus.

The duchess usually sat up an hour or two in her chamber previous to her
retiring to repose, her time being occupied in reading, writing, or
entering memoranda in her common-place book; but her Grace always
finished with her devotions. When these were duly performed, slowly
advancing to the bedside of her beloved daughter, she already beheld
her in a profound sleep. "Happy state of youth!" thought the duchess,

    "Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies,
    Which busy care draws in the brains of men:
    Therefore thou sleep'st so sound."

"Oh, my darling daughter, may care, anxiety, and sorrow, ever be
strangers to thy dwelling! and, oh heaven grant, that thy bosom, and thy
peace of mind, may be ever calm and serene as at this present moment
they are!"

Having mentally expressed this fervent prayer, the duchess retired to
her pillow, mournfully revolving upon the past, and deeply meditating
upon the future; much wearied both from mental, as well as bodily
fatigue, she fell into a deep slumber. But her sleep was restless and
perturbed, she went back to the days of her youth. For as Milton finely
expresses,

                    "When nature rests,
    Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes,
    To imitate her."

The duchess again beheld her early friends, once more she partook of
their juvenile pastimes. Time advances--her courtship with the duke
proceeds--her consent to the marriage given--the wedding takes
place--the birth of Adelaide--the duke's increased favour with his
sovereign--his several appointments--his promotion--the introduction of
the duchess at court--the duke presented with the order of the garter,
and appointed viceroy of Ireland--the scenes attendant thereon--Adelaide
the admiration of every eye, and the praise of every tongue. All these
events, conjured up by deceptive vision, passed in rapid succession,
seen through the _camera obscura_ of the past. Now floats before her
tortured fancy the obverse of the medal:--The battle of the Boyne is
fought and lost--King James is forced to make a precipitate flight--the
Duke of Tyrconnel accompanies his deposed sovereign--the duke is
outlawed by King William, who passes an act of attainder against
him--the duchess is compelled to depart from Ireland--Adelaide
accompanies her mother in her voyage. The dream continues:--The duchess
much perturbed--at sea they encounter a violent storm--she and Adelaide
are about to perish in a watery grave. The duchess moans, and becomes
deeply depressed, which awakened Adelaide, who arose, and gently opening
the shutter, the rays of a summer sun glanced in at the casement. Then
putting on her attire with great caution and silence Adelaide seated
herself by her mother's side. The duchess greatly disturbed in her
sleep, with a deep moan and restless motion turned around in the bed; in
doing so her arm fell next Adelaide; who gently, but affectionately,
kissed her mother's hand, and while in the act the duchess awoke.

"Oh! _this_, at least, is no vision to mock my misery!--I am
awake--_this_ is no dream! Oh, my dear, dear Adelaide!--my darling child
is it you?"

The duchess sat up in her bed, and warmly embracing Adelaide, while the
fond, maternal tear moistened as it fell upon her daughter's cheek, she
said:--"May heaven ever bless and protect thee, my dear and duteous
daughter, and its gracious mercy be always thine! for thou hast ever
been dutiful to thy parents, and obedient to thy Creator!"

The duchess now arose, and as neither her Grace nor Adelaide expended
any unnecessary waste of time at their toilette, they were soon at their
post at the breakfast table. Sir Patricius rung, and desired the waiter
to place a Malines ham and a bottle of Louvain beer on the side-table,
both of which he declared were excellent in their kind; some of the
ladies tasted the ham, but the Louvain beer remained untasted except by
the provident Baronet himself, who smacked his lips, and observed that
it was passing good; and then noticed that there were three kinds of it,
that which lay upon the table was of the weakest sort; the next was
called Caniac, which was to be met with at the tables of the noblesse
and the wealthier bourgeois; the strongest kind is called Peterman,
which, he observed, was sold at the coffee-houses in the evening; and in
such repute is Louvain beer held, he said, that annually one hundred and
fifty thousand tuns are brewed for exportation; "but for my poor part,"
next continued Sir Patricius, (filling out a second glass,) "I have
slight objection to quaff it at the fountain head!--"_Satius est petere
fontes, quam sectari rivulos._"--Ha, ha, ha!

Breakfast having terminated, and the practical panegyric of Sir
Patricius on Louvain beer and Malines ham being duly exemplified and
concluded, the duchess sallied forth in search of a furnished house,
which her Grace intended to engage for a term not less than that of a
year. Three or four houses were inspected, but they were found not to
answer; one was too small to accommodate the family, another was
indifferently furnished, a third was objected to from its unpleasantness
of situation; a fourth was examined, which was agreeably situated in the
Rue Ducale, opposite to the park; this seemed to promise well, Sir
Patricius rang the hall bell, and a tall, meagre figure, in a rich
flowered silk robe _de chambre_, and his head enveloped in a red
night-cap, opened the door; it was Monsieur Passemier, the proprietor of
the house, who grinned and bowed most obsequiously; he was about
sixty-five years of age, but seemed in spirits, and also in activity, to
enjoy all the vigour of youth. He now proceeded to show the house: the
hall, or vestibule, was spacious, and very handsomely ornamented with
marble tables, bronze busts on brackets, and a statue of white marble of
the god of silence. The garden, which adjoined the hall, was very
tastefully laid out; a corridore of trellis work, entwined with parasite
plants, led from the hall to the garden, where several walks, arched
above, formed pleasant arbours, through and around which the clustering
vines had entwined themselves, and now displayed their luxuriant bunches
of red and white grapes.

The duchess ascended to the drawing-rooms, which were hung with rich
Brussels' tapestry, and hangings of Arras; the subjects represented were
woven from designs of Teniërs, Snyders, and Rubens; the different
compartments represented village fairs, rural merry-makings, and boar
hunts.

The sofas, or settees rather we should say, the rude, gothic
predecessors of the present modern sofa, were extremely long and
extremely low, and yet withal of an enormous size; they were covered
with blue velvet, and fringed with gold lace; the chairs, which
corresponded, were on castors, and were of that formidable space and
magnitude to have afforded seats to the two redoubtable city giants of
Guild-Hall, Messieurs Gog and Magog, who, if hither transported, might
have held thereon a seeming _tête-à-tête_, without any diminution or
disparagement of their gravity and greatness.

Monsieur Passemier, (for to the lank gentleman in the red night-cap the
said mansion appertained,) ever and anon was restlessly employed in
raising or lowering the red cap on his forehead, and with continued and
extravagant grin, grimace, and gesticulation, became exceedingly
loquacious, his teeth chattering most monkey-like. He dwelt much on the
commodiousness of his house, the fine view of the park which it
commanded, the fashionableness of the situation, the salubrity of the
air, the convenience of his _jardin ornè_; and rung various changes on
the fine furniture of his mansion, so superior, he insisted, to _les
miserablés meubles garnis_ of Paris; he once indeed (_malheureux!_) had,
in an evil hour, let lodgings, but he would never do so again--_jamais!_
He once, _pardiè_, had set these apartments (_en haut_) to Monsieur Le
Compte d'Egmont and Madame la Comptesse, _et quatres petites diables des
enfants_; the lower (_en bas_) apartments were set to le bon Evêque de
Bruges. But, _une jour_, Le Compte et Madam la Comptesse were abroad
_pour faire visite_, when _les quatres petites diables des enfants_
made, _mon Dieu!_ such a _grand bouleversement_, you never did hear--no
persone did ever see de like.

Here Monsieur Passemier acted to the life _encore le tres grande
bouleversement_, flinging down, with great force, fire, fury, and
energy, stool, tripod, candelabra, chairs, &c., and scattering around
the broken fragments of marble tables. He then, with the agility of a
Shamois goat, bounded from stool to chair and settee, indeed he seemed
as if recently escaped from Bedlam; he jumped, he stamped, he danced,
he laughed, he chattered, racing round the room, jumping on chairs and
settees, and violently stamping and kicking thereon, and by practical
illustrations demonstrating how _les quatres petites diables des enfants
d'Egmont_ had accomplished _cet horrible bouleversement_! and all dat in
defiance of _le petite dieu de silence, dans le grande vestibule_, who,
_avec le main droite_, to his lip does (_tout le gentilhomme_) impose
silence, and _avec le main gauche_, does vid _beaucoup de politesse_
point de way _en haut! pour vous montez. Le bon Evêque de Bruges_ left
me _au désespoir! pauvre homme, car, malheureux_,

    _Il ne pouvoit pas_,
              _ni lirè_,
              _ni dirè_,
              _ni rirè_,
              _ni prièr_,
              _ni ecrirè_,

_et mon Dieu! quelle horrible, il ne pouvoit pas dormire!_

The duchess came in for more of the _bouleversement_ than her Grace had
calculated upon; and having concluded her bargain, hastened to depart
before the lank landlord in the red night-cap could, by possibility, be
seized with another fit of _la maladè du bouleversement_.

Sir Patricius was extremely diverted with the eccentricities of this
original, and declared that the Monsieur was wondrous comical--most
amusingly facetious.

The duchess and Lady Adelaide, &c. drove through the squares and
principal streets of Brussels, they visited the park l'Alle Verte, &c.;
and then drove to Soignies Forest: Adelaide was highly delighted, and
with much liveliness and enthusiasm, she said:--"Fair Brussels! renowned
in days of ancient chivalry, aye, full many a joust, tilt, and
tournament, hast thou witnessed within thine princely walls, when kings
and mighty paladines sought valour's prize and beauty's smile, while
trumpets brayed the victor's fame, and damsels gave the guerdon to the
brave! Nor, Soignies, ever be thy dark forest forgot, here many a chase
has re-echoed throughout thy woodland waste, led on by prince and peer,
what time the savage boar of the forest, roused from his lair, started
forth on the hunter's path, and sunk beneath his valiant spear, while
blithely the bugle reckless rung his requiem!"

"My dear daughter, you are the child of romance, and you should have
been born in the days of chivalry, for our own days are too tame and
common-place for thee withal!"

"I do commend, my lady duchess," said Sir Patricius, "the enthusiasm of
the Lady Adelaide; and I must take occasion to observe, that although
there is much liveliness, there is likewise much historical truth in the
young lady's remarks. _Certes_ Brussels is a fine city; in many respects
it may vie with Paris. Look at the park, at the promenades, the palaces,
the mansions, churches, fountains, &c.; and I will be bold to say that
in healthfulness of its climate, the beauty of its local situation, the
spaciousness of its streets, the abundance and cheapness of its
provisions, that at this period Brussels is probably second to no city
in Europe. It is proverbial for the luxuriance of its fruits and
vegetables.--And now, my Lady Duchess, I do remember me that Anne of
Cleves, the consort of King Henry VIII. of England, whom he somewhat
ungallantly called a Flanders mare"----

"It was indeed," observed the duchess, "not only an uncourtly, but it
was an unkinglike phrase!"

"I was about to observe, my Lady Duchess, that Anne of Cleves used
frequently to send to the _Pays Bas_ for a sallad! and I dare be sworn,
my lady, that if her Majesty had only known what a luxurious fruit
Flemish cherries and strawberries were, which latter they call here
_fraisés l'Anglaises_, and in size are as large as the largest walnut,
and their exquisite flavour quite unparalleled--no doubt, I think, but
that the queen would have despatched a special messenger to procure a
dessert of those delicious fruits of Flanders, provided they would have
borne the carriage. Ay, though even her royal head were to pay the
forfeit I' faith!--ha, ha, ha!"

"To lose one's head were rather an unseemly joke for a bunch of Flemish
fruit; besides, methinks it were rather too dear a purchase even in the
decapitating days of bluff Harry Tudor!" observed Lady Adelaide.

"Commend me the spirit," said her Grace, "of the Duchess of Milan, who,
when Henry had sent an ambassador demanding her hand in marriage, she
boldly desired the ambassador to tell his master that she must decline
the honour which his Majesty had so graciously intended, as she had but
one head: if she had had two indeed, one of them should certainly be at
the disposal of his Majesty of England!"

"Ha, ha, ha,--'fore Jupiter," exclaimed Sir Patricius, "her Highness was
as witty as she was spirited!--Ha, ha, ha."

The duchess now deemed it full time for her Grace to send a despatch to
the palace of d'Aremberg, addressed to her old friend,--her once
youthful, lovely friend--the kind associate of her early years, the
Duchess d'Aremberg, notifying her arrival at Brussels, and likewise,
meanwhile, expressing the cogent reasons which had rendered such a step
necessary, if not imperative; at the same time also intimating her
intention of calling upon the following day at an early hour specified,
to pay her demonstrations of love, regard, and respect.

Accordingly, upon the following day, and at the appointed time, the
duchess, accompanied solely by Lady Adelaide, waited upon her Grace
d'Aremberg at the ducal palace.

Our readers no doubt possibly may recollect the relationship in which
the Duchess d'Aremberg stood to the Lady Adelaide, that her Grace was
Lady Adelaide's _marrainè_, or godmother. They too may perchance
recollect the princely baptismal presents given on the august occasion,
and long since narrated in our story, all of which have been duly
detailed in the second chapter of the first volume of this romance.

The meeting was of the tenderest and most affecting description. The
Duchess d'Aremberg had been for some years a widow, but she was not
childless, she had an only son, the present Duke d'Aremberg. Her sight
was much impaired, being obliged to wear spectacles; but notwithstanding
this, her countenance still bore striking traits that she had once been
beautiful. Her constitution had been so much impaired by ill-health,
caused by paralysis, and not by years, that her Grace had nearly lost
the powers of locomotion: she moved on crutches. But still her brilliant
eye beamed forth intelligence; and still warm and true to all its fires,
her generous and expanded heart was alive to every social tie, to every
noble impulse, and every endearing feeling. While, meantime, every
object around bore strong indications of mortality; in one station was
placed her once favourite paroquet, that had gaily talked in its cage,
and had each successive morning duly greeted its mistress's
approach.--There now it stood a stiff and motionless mummy, a mere
mockery of what it once had been! The cherished and favourite lapdog too
had undergone a similar transformation, and starchly stuffed, and
studded with its glaring eye-balls, unspeculatingly stared from its
glassy cabinet.

The Duchess of Tyrconnel warmly embraced with tender and intense
affection her old, her once young, her still kind-hearted friend, while
their tears, united, trickled down in comminglement on the cheeks of
each beloved friend; while Adelaide, whose heart was ever responsive to
every impulse of affection or affliction, wept a flood of tears. This
transport of joy and tears having passed the Duchess d'Aremberg strongly
pressed, with the kindest and most affectionate solicitation, that her
early friend and her goddaughter should, during their sojourn at
Brussels, make the palace d'Aremberg their home, where they would be as
free from restraint as if the residence were their own. But the Duchess
of Tyrconnel declined in terms of the deepest gratitude, at the same
time in the tone of firm determination. Her Grace said that they should
be often together, and that every day, if possible, during her stay,
accompanied by Adelaide, they would have the pleasure of passing a large
portion of their time with the Duchess d'Aremberg.

Upon being made acquainted that the duchess had taken a house in the
_Rue Ducale_, and that the Ladies Letitia and Lucy, and Sir Patricius
Placebo, had accompanied her in her journey, matters were so far
compromised by an invitation being made and accepted of, that on that
same day the entire party should dine within the hospitable walls of the
palace d'Aremberg.

While the two old friends were in deep converse the young Duke
d'Aremberg entered the apartment, and was formally introduced by his
amiable mother to the Duchess of Tyrconnel and to Lady Adelaide.

The Duke d'Aremberg was a few years elder than our heroine. He was
remarkably handsome, tall in person, and martial in appearance, well
made, and much admired for the symmetry of his form. His deportment was
dignified and graceful, as free from _hauteur_ as it was devoid of
conceit and affectation. His eye-brows were dark, his eyes hazel, which
sparkled with intelligence. His complexion was, however, rather
saturnine; and in person as well as in visage, he much resembled the
portrait of his illustrious grandfather, which hung in the d'Aremberg
palace, as drawn by the inimitable hand of Vandyke, of which a fine
engraving by Earlom has been handed down to posterity. The same
characteristic melancholy too which had predominated in the expression
of countenance in his grandsire prevailed likewise in the lineaments of
the grandson; but withal mildness and intelligence of expression gave an
intense tone of interest to the manly and open expression of his visage,
which was in sooth the index of his truly noble heart. He was generous,
he was brave, and accomplished as he was learned: hence it is
unnecessary to say that he was most agreeable and affable in his
manners. He was truly beloved by all his dependants, as he was courted
by his associates, and respected and adored by his friends.

The duchess and Lady Adelaide remained about two hours at the palace
d'Aremberg, and then returned to their house in the _Rue Ducale_ to
attire for dinner. At a few moments before three o'clock punctually they
returned to the palace. Two, or even so early as one o'clock, was then
the usual hour of dinner upon the continent; but in compliment to her
friends it was postponed until the third hour. The Earl of Aylesbury and
his countess, who was his second wife, and his son, Lord Eyrecourt, were
the only guests invited, and they had first arrived.

We must here trespass a few words on our reader, briefly to say what he
may perchance not be already acquainted with. The noble peer here
noticed was Thomas, the second Earl of Aylesbury. He had rallied around
King James upon the event of the Prince of Orange having embarked troops
for England. But when King James withdrew himself from Whitehall, in
order to embark for France, Lord Aylesbury was one of the twenty-five
peers who signed the declaration applying to the Prince of Orange to
rescue the country from "popery and slavery." He subsequently, however,
took a different part, having been implicated or accused in an attempt
to restore the abdicated monarch to his throne and realm, in consequence
of which accusation his Lordship was committed a prisoner to the tower
of London by order of Queen Mary, the consort of William III., at the
time that William was in Ireland. The charge or accusation was for
having consulted and conspired how to restore King James. His countess,
the Lady Elizabeth, was so afflicted at her lord's confinement, that she
died in childbirth, when the month following her husband, the Earl, was
admitted to bail.

His Lordship afterwards obtained leave of King William to reside at
Brussels; and a year or two previous to this period he secondly married
Charlotte, Countess of Sannü, of the ancient and noble house of
Argenteau, in the Duchy of Brabant, by whom he had a daughter, Charlotte
Maria,[32] an infant at this time of about twelve months old.

    [32] Lady Charlotte Maria Bruce was married to the Prince of
    Houre, one of the princes of the empire, by whom she had a large
    progeny.

The Earl of Aylesbury[33] was a nobleman _de La Vieille cour_ of the
most polished manners. Every thing he said or did was done with a
peculiar grace and ease. He had read much, and remembered with judicious
advantage what he had read. He abounded in amusing anecdotes, had seen
much of the world, and had read men as well as books.

    [33] One of the handsomest fountains in Brussels, which stands in
    _le grand Sablon_, was erected by the munificence of the
    above-mentioned Earl of Aylesbury. Its appearance is that of a
    Sarcophagus, ascended by three steps; the water flows from a
    brazen head, surmounted by the arms and coronet, into a marble
    bason beneath. It is surmounted by a figure of Minerva, bearing a
    medallion containing the busts of Lord Aylesbury and his countess,
    with three figures, one supporting the medallion, one as a river
    god, and the third blowing the trumpet of fame. The following is
    the inscription:--"_Cette fontaine a été construite par les
    liberalités du Comte d'Aylesbury, pair de la Grande Bretagne, et
    reconnoissance du long et agreable sejour qu'il a fit dans cette
    ville_," &c. The figures are executed by Jacques Bergè, a
    celebrated sculptor.

However, it cannot be denied that he was at times stately in his
deportment; and he never appeared at his own dinner-table, even when
none were present but his own family, unless in a full court-dress
costume, with the appendices of star and ribbon, which made many to
suspect that a deep affection for aristocracy was rooted in his breast.

The countess was low in stature as she was in mind. Her figure, however,
though small, was passing well; her complexion sallow; her eyes dark and
lively. She possessed more envy than good-nature, more passion than
sense, and more pertness than pride. Her chief, and probably only
recommendations, were the ancient nobility of her family and the
largeness of her fortune, two qualifications that rarely, if ever,
bestow happiness upon the marriage state.

Lord Eyrecourt was the only surviving offspring of the deceased
countess, and heir apparent to the earldom of Aylesbury. He was
confessedly a finished _petite maitré_--the daily slave of his barber,
perfumer, tailor, and looking-glass. To Monsieur Jasmin, his perfumer,
in the _Rue Madelaine_, he had lately paid the enormous sum of six
hundred ducats, being his bill for the last year for lotions, perfumes,
cosmetics, &c.

His Lordship never appeared abroad until close upon the hour of dinner,
"for," he averred, "it would be vastly supersingular, and besides
extremely vulgar in him, to be seen abroad before the sun had fully
mounted the meridian, and the world had become well warmed!"

Lord Eyrecourt was, in verity, a strange and singular model of a man,
and, to use his own favourite expression--"Odds my life, my person and
accomplishments are supersingular, and not to be matched!" His Lordship
was in height about five feet five, with brawny shoulders and arms, a
bronzed visage, that seemed resolved to outstare the world in
confidence; his cheeks were meantime of that roseate hue that the
scandalous chronicle of the times reported that they fully owed their
blooming radiance to the cosmetics of Monsieur Jasmin. His neck was
short, and bull-modelled; and this self-supposed Adonis finished his
form by thighs and legs of elephantine shape and form. In London he had
obtained the _soubriquèt_, or nick-name, of "The Pocket Hercules," which
title followed him to Brussels. "_Voilà, mi Lor Herculè, de la
poche!--bah! ha, ha!_" has been often repeated within his Lordship's
hearing.

When this _great_ man in his own eyes, did condescend to speak, he
lisped most miraculously; and his whole mien and manner were in complete
variance with nature and simplicity.

It was marvellous strange, but true, that this misshapen model of
mortality in his own eyes really fancied himself the handsomest man of
the day, whether in England, France, or Belgium, the true and most
redoubtable Antinous of the age! and he fondly fancied that every dame
who set eye upon his irresistible charms, immediately became
irretrievably enamoured! so prepossessing and fascinating did he behold
himself reflected in the mirror of egotism and vanity. His lordship was
peculiarly fond of repeating this, his much favourite passage, from
Massinger:

    "I re-refine the court, and civilize
    Their barbarous natures. I have in a table,
    With curious punctuality set down,
    To a hair's breadth, how low a new stamped courtier
    May vail[34] to a country gentleman, and by
    Gradation, to his merchant, mercer, draper, &c."

    [34] "May vail," that is, "May bow."

The dinner at the palace d'Aremberg was magnificent, and passed off with
a good deal of good-humour, and some laughter at the expense of Lord
Eyrecourt. The Lady Adelaide this day made a double conquest,--of the
Duke d'Aremberg, who became deeply captivated with her beauty and
accomplishments; and of Lord Eyrecourt, who declared that it was vastly
supersingular that at last the barb of Cupid rankled in his bosom, and
that he was in a fair way of being caught in the toils of matrimony!

The ensuing morning, at an early hour, Lord Eyrecourt presented himself
in the _Rue Ducale_, where the love-struck Lord loud and lustily rang at
the door of the palace of Tyrconnel. The duchess happened at the time to
be looking out from the front window, and observed to Lady Adelaide,
"See, my love, who now approaches this mansion; I foresaw, my dear
daughter, all this, and that during his presence the last evening, that
you had made a deep and firm impression, aye, and conquest to boot, of
this self-sick Adonis. So I pray that you see him, and hearken to his
most precious proposals, for such you will find to be the object of this
his matutinal visit; which said intended proposals I know to a certainty
thou wilt reject. Hence I entertain no apprehensions whatever, sweet
daughter of mine, in this perilous _rencontre_," said the duchess,
smiling; "for I well know that all his matrimonial propositions thou
wilt firmly reject. I shall just in due and stately form receive him,
and then retire to my cabinet, whence I can with facility overhear all
the ridiculous rhapsodical speeches of this painted popinjay. Do you,
notwithstanding, my dear daughter, hear him with a sufficient sum of due
patience, meet respect, and with all becoming attention and gratitude;
for any man offering his hand to a fair lady is entitled, by all the
rules and achievements of the courts of chivalry, love, and courtesy, to
a meet and becoming audience. But be brief as thou canst; and the
sooner that with due distant and becoming politeness, he were despatched
it were all so much the better, and then we shall fully have an end to
all his _faribolès mal appliquès_."

"Fear not," said the Lady Adelaide, "my dearest mother, my fullest
obedience."

Here another loud and lusty pull at the hall-bell announced an arrival,
when almost immediately Lord Eyrecourt was announced, and ushered in by
the footman in waiting. His Lordship, with much grimace, and a smirking
visage withal, made two low bows on his _entrè_, and advanced with a
gait which was a halting attempt between a _chassè_ and a _pirouëtte_.
But although this was all self sufficiently done, it was truly and
practically the tramp and gait of an elephant, if indeed we could for a
moment suppose that mighty creature could stalk on his hind legs; but in
other respects "the half-reasoning" quadruped of Africa was every way
the superior of the animal who now made his approach.

"Good-morrow to your Grace," lisped forth this conceited popinjay.
"Good-morrow too, sweet and most lovely Lady Adelaide; permit, fairest
lady, your lowly servant a _béso las mános_!"

Here the duchess thought it decorous to withdraw, and her Grace retired
to her cabinet.

"Hail, fairest gem of Erin, bright star of Belgium, and the brilliant
sun of Brussels! at sight of thee every eye is enamoured, and every
heart takes fire; in witness whereof behold me your lowly servant abroad
at this most unfashionable hour, thus prevailing upon myself to come
forth and throw my person and my fortunes at your feet, even before that
Phoebus hath mounted his meridian car, and the world has become well
warmed, to place myself and coronet thus lowly at your feet!"

"Oh rise, my Lord, from that----what, kneel to a mere mortal! I pray
you be seated, and I shall endeavour to reply to all the compliments
with which your Lordship is so prodigally pleased to overpower me. I
must, my Lord, acknowledge, that your Lordship indulges somewhat too
freely in mixed metaphor; and I must needs add, you deal somewhat too
superabundantly in rhapsodies.--Well, my Lord, let us see what I am like
unto? 'A gem of Erin!' pray what is that? Oh, no doubt whatever but it
must mean a simple piece of Kerry crystal!--oh, vastly pretty indeed;
and almost as nearly transparent as your Lordship's flattery. Well,
good, my Lord! what comparison comes next?--Oh, I am 'a Star!' in this I
cannot confess that your Lordship's wit shines superlatively.--Pshaw, my
Lord, a star is merely a minor light, and visible only at night! Nay
now, after all, this simile is only but just so, so. However, I am amply
repaid by that which so brilliantly succeeds, 'the Sun of Brussels!'
Well, come, that I must needs admit is a resplendent metaphor; but the
sun of Brussels I must fain likewise confess I have found too often to
my cost, to be a very warm and burning sun. What comes next?--Oh, quite
portentous!--I blaze, burn, and destroy, setting eyes in a flame, and
hearts on fire, and so forth, in a most formidable comet-like fashion!
What this can actually mean, unless it prove a sort of periphrasis, and
be slyly intended for a Salamander, I cannot indeed divine. Then if my
conjectures prove correct, only think, O glorious Apollo, after the
complete extinction of all the tropes, figures, flowers, and poesies,
culled from amid the verdant valleys of thine own lofty Parnassus, for
thy votary-like Icarus to tumble from the Olympian sky, and to suffer
his divine goddess, the object of his idolatrous veneration, to
degenerate into a fire-loving earthly Salamander! Oh, by prose and
verse, but this is vastly funny!"

"Ah, cruel, cruel, remorseless Lady Adelaide, is it thus you sportively
jest at my pains, and mock my misery!--I die for you!"

"Really, my Lord, this is all so very sudden--the symptoms too so very
alarming, I feel quite agitated--dejected! Pray, let me advise you, my
Lord, to call in the advice of Sir Patricius Placebo, whose skill is
undisputed!"

"No, fair torturer! you, Lady, and you alone, who caused the malady, can
cure it!"

"My Lord, seek out one more deserving of the honour which you so nobly
proffer me, but I never can be yours; nor shall I ever give my hand
unless I also can give my heart. And now, my Lord, farewell, accept my
humble gratitude and sincerest thanks for the high distinction which you
have so graciously paid me, and which I shall ever remember with the
utmost respect and gratitude."

Having so said, Lady Adelaide deeply courtesied, and withdrew.

"Odds my life now," exclaimed the disappointed peer, "but this is most
passing strange, supersingular, and not to be matched! What, refuse the
heir apparent of an earldom, (and with modesty let me express it,) with
my person and qualifications! Insufferable! It is not to be endured!"

As Lord Eyrecourt, much discomfitted, departed from the _Rue Ducale_, he
met the Duke d'Aremberg going in that direction; they saluted as they
passed, while he continued his sorrowful soliloquy:--

"The Lady Adelaide is downright mad to refuse me; but it seems she
soars at higher game, and looks to 'the pride of place.' She said she
would never give her hand without bestowing her heart, doubtless then
this honour she has already conferred upon the youthful d'Aremberg.--It
is but too fatally evident! Oh, woe is me to come out in the cold air of
the morn, before the world had become well warmed; and finally thus to
be so totally eclipsed! Oh, some ominous morning I shall be found
hanging from the top of Saint Michael's Tower, or my unfortunate corpse
be seen floating in the Antwerp canal!

    Ne'er gallant peer more miserable was undone,
    Like extinguish'd star I set 'fore the rise of sun!"




                             CHAPTER VIII.

    Aligerà BRUXELLA volans super æthera famâ,
    In laudes solui non petit ora novas.
    Cerne urbis faciem; cultasque Heroibus aulas:
    Non est invidiam dignior ulla pati.
    Cerne hortos, fontesque, et priscis æmula Tempe:
    Elysium Credas te peragrare nemus.

                                           JACOBUS EYCKIUS.


                               LETTER II.

               THE DUCHESS OF TYRCONNEL TO MRS. CARTWRIGHT.

                                 _Dated_, Brussels, _September_, 169--

    MY DEAR MADAM,

                                                "Oh, give me joy!
    for yesterday my beloved husband, to our unexpected happiness,
    returned to my arms! Oh, how it delights me he has returned; and
    has received permission from the higher powers to remain at
    Brussels. My Adelaide is wild with joy, and so am I.

    "Yes, the duke has returned, and I behold every object with
    redoubled interest--with renewed delight; all seems to me to be
    newly created. The climate is more charming, the air is more
    sweetly perfumed with aromatic gales, the melody of the birds is
    more harmonious; every sky which I see is a Breughel sky. And
    _now_ I behold daily illustrations of the old masters, which I did
    not observe before, in the scenery which surrounds me, the various
    buildings, manners, customs, and costume, and all so faithfully
    portrayed to the life, in the performances of Berghem, Breughel,
    Rubens, and Teniers.

    "Sweeter too, to me, at eve, is the song of the nightingale: our
    house fronts the park, which is the favourite retreat of this
    sweetest of warblers; and night after night, long after Saint
    Gudule hath tolled the midnight hour, have I sat stationed at my
    latticed casement, the breeze of heaven blowing on my brow, and
    the cold moon-beam gleaming on my cheek, while I listened with
    mute delight to the melancholy songster of the night. And often
    while the bitter tear fast trickled down my cheek, methought--I
    acknowledge my weakness--methought that I had listened to some
    poor widowed bird who mourned her absent mate, singing, as the old
    proverb runs, with a thorn wounding her breast! But oh, _now_ I
    think quite differently; for _now_ it is quite clear to me that
    the warbling of the nightingale is more musical than melancholy;
    for surely, after all, it sweetly trills the notes of love, and
    not the strains of sorrow!

    "You are pleased, my dear Mrs. Cartwright, to express so much
    satisfaction, in verity, more than its deserts, of my poor account
    of Lille; and at the same time expressing your desire that I
    should write to you from this truly delightful city, and give you
    a true and distinct account of Brussels, that I am flattered, and
    even tempted to take you at your word, and I shall do my best, to
    the fullest to gratify your wishes.

    "And now, my dear friend, _pour commencér avec le commencement_, as
    they say in France, and why not in Belgium? The appellation of
    PAYS-BAS, or the Low Country, is given to the seventeen provinces
    of Belgium, from the circumstance that in many places the ground
    is lower than the level of the sea. The sovereign princes of this
    realm were at first styled Foresters of Flanders, afterwards they
    were designated Counts, and then Dukes of Brabant. If you should
    wish to learn the portrait of a Forester of Flanders, here it
    is:--Behold him arrayed in ducal bonnet and hunting gear, armed
    with sabre, dirk, and hunting spear, at the same time accompanied
    and surrounded by all the _accessoires_ of the chase; his hawk, or
    falcon, resting upon his hand, and his greyhounds and spaniels
    following at his heels; meanwhile attended by his jager and his
    jongeling.[35] Thus accompanied and equipped for the chase,
    sallied forth the manly Prince Forester of Flanders in the olden
    time.

      [35] Jager and jongeling, _i. e._ huntsman and page of honour.

    "The etymon of Brussels is uncertain; however it is not for me to
    hazard an opinion upon the subject, which I freely leave to the
    more solemn adjudication of learned linguists, pertinent
    philologists, and sapient scholiasts. I shall merely observe, that
    some pretend that it is derived from a neighbouring marsh, which
    is called Brocksel; while others more strenuously contend that the
    name springs from the word _Broussailes_, (Brambles,) because the
    town, say they, had been built upon a spot which had formerly been
    covered with brambles. The foundation of Brussels is counted from
    the year, _anno salutis_, 900. But it did not rank as a city until
    1040.

    "The city of Brussels, says Guicciardini, the celebrated historian
    of Italy and of Belgium, (or the _Pays-Bas_,) resembles in its
    conformation, or outline, the form of the human heart, and the
    similitude certainly is striking and correct.

    "Puteanus, the historian, observes, that every thing is
    _septenary_ at Brussels; which made many to consider the number
    _seven_ as completely of cabalistic import in this fair and
    renowned city.

    "The circumference of Brussels is _seven_ miles in extent.
    Anciently _seven_ different noble families held their several
    castles within the city, from whom sprung the _seven_ Patrician
    families, from whose numbers the magistrates were annually chosen.

    "This city, under the reign of Charles V., boasted at one time of
    having _seven_ sovereigns residing within its walls; namely, the
    Emperor Charles V.; his son Philip, then king of Naples;
    Maximilian, king of Bohemia, and his consort, the queen of
    Hungary, who was regent of the _Pays-Bas_; the king of Tunis, in
    Africa, named Muley Hassan; the Duke of Savoy; the king of Cyprus;
    and the Duchess of Lorraine, who was queen of Jerusalem.

    "There are _seven_ large squares:--1. The great market. 2. Le
    grandè sablon. 3. The fish market. 4. The corn market. 5. The wood
    market. 6. Le Place Louvaine. 7. The beef market.

    "There are _seven_ fountains which ornament this city.[36]

      [36] Twenty-one fountains decorate this fine city at the present
      period, 1821.

    "The gates of the city are _seven_ in number:--1. The porte of
    Louvaine. 2. Of Namur. 3. Of Halle. 4. Of Anderlecht. 5. Of
    Flanders. 6. Of Lacken. 7. Of Cologne.[37]

      [37] The gate of Cologne is at the present day called _Porte de
      Scarebeeck_. Napoleon Buonaparte, during his occupation of
      Brussels, added another gate, which he called _Porte de Napoleon_.

    "The principal churches of the city are likewise _seven_ in
    number:--1. Saint Gudule. 2. Our Lady of the Chapel. 3. Saint
    Gery. 4. Saint Nicholas. 5. Saint Catherine. 6. Saint James of
    Caudenberg, (this is the chapel of the court.) 7. Our Lady _de
    finis Terræ_.

    "Brussels, so justly celebrated, is a large, populous, and
    magnificent city, of considerable extent and beauty; adorned with
    magnificent squares, sumptuous palaces, public buildings, public
    walks, public fountains, and venerable gothic structures. It is
    partly built on the winding banks of the river Senne, and partly
    upon a hill, which commands an extended view of the rich valleys
    which surround it, producing fruits and vegetables of the best and
    most luxuriant kind; indeed tillage in no country whatever is
    better understood and practised than it is in the _Pays Bas_. This
    city had been the capital of the Spanish, it has now, since change
    of masters, become the capital of the Austrian Netherlands.

    "Brussels once afforded an asylum to Charles II. of England,
    brother to our gentle, but unfortunate, James II. It was here that
    the emperor Charles V. resigned his dominions to his son Philip in
    1535; and the chair upon which he sat during the performance of
    the abdication, is religiously preserved in the cathedral of
    Sainte Gudule. And here too Christiana, Queen of Sweden,
    voluntarily abdicated her crown in 1654.

    "The lower part of the city is crowned with that noble pile of
    florid gothic architecture, called _La Maison de Ville_, or
    town-hall of Brussels, which is situated in the grand
    market-place; its noble steeple, from its great elevation, is a
    most conspicuous object in, every direction, and is seen at a
    great distance; it rises to the height of three hundred and
    sixty-four feet, and is surmounted by a colossal bronze statue,
    (which is gilt,) and seventeen feet high, of Saint Michael the
    Archangel, to which I fear I must somewhat profanely add the
    _soubriquèt_ of 'weathercock,' or vane; for to such vile use have
    they turned the saint, and this too, credit me, in a Catholic
    country! This is wondrous strange. Saint Michael is represented
    brandishing his sword to the winds of heaven; and from this dizzy
    and elevated height the reeling saint wheels to and fro as the
    wind doth blow. But be it known to you, that Michael the Archangel
    is the patron saint of the city. This fine structure, although
    irregularly built, (for the steeple is not in the centre of the
    building,) is nevertheless a noble specimen of gothic-florid
    architecture. The building _La Maison de Ville_ occupied a space
    of forty years before its completion. One hundred niches are
    occupied by statues[38] of saints. The rooms in the interior,
    where the estates of Brabant assemble, abound and are adorned with
    beautiful specimens of the ancient Gobelin tapestry; they are
    principally historical, three are after Janssens, the history of
    Clovis; the inauguration of Philip the Good; and the abdication of
    Charles V. in favour of his son Philip.

      [38] These statues were destroyed in 1793.

    "Opposite to the town-hall of Brussels stands a remarkable
    structure, called _La Maison du Roi_, built by order of the
    Archduke Albert and his Duchess Isabella; her Highness conceiving
    that '_Notre Dame de Wavre_' had not only most graciously
    delivered the good and royal city of Brussels from the plague, but
    also had most humanely vouchsafed the blessings of peace, erected
    in front of this mansion an image of the Virgin, and placed
    underneath an inscription, which is as follows, and the good
    prelate will translate it for you:--

    'A Peste, Fame, et Bello, libera nos Maria Pacis; hic votum pacis
    publicæ, Isabella consecravit.'[39]

      [39] The statue of the Virgin hath long since evanished, but the
      inscription remains to the present day.

    "The collegiate church, or cathedral, of Sainte Gudule,[40] is a
    venerable and interesting pile, presenting a fine specimen of
    gothic architecture. It was built about the year 1047, by Lambert,
    surnamed Balderic, Duke of Brabant.

      [40] This church had been dedicated to Saint Michael, but upon
      Charles Duke of Lorraine having removed the relicks of his mother
      Sainte Gudule, and placed them in this church, it is, in
      consequence, now called Sainte Gudule.

    "The choir contains many fine paintings by Rubens, Vandyke, Philip
    of Champagne, Artois de Haese, Mille, Janssens, and others. The
    sculpture is also fine, produced by the chisels of Vervoont, Van
    Nerven, P. Danckers, Van Delen, Henry du Quesnoy, Voorspoel, and
    others. The windows of the chapel of the miraculous host, which is
    within the aisles of Sainte Gudule, are formed of stained glass,
    and are exceedingly fine; they were executed by Diepenbeke,
    Rogiers, De Vrint, and C. Floris. Many of them were presents from
    crowned heads, from John XI. king of Portugal, Maria III. queen
    of Hungary, Francis I. king of France, and the emperor Charles V.;
    the window presented by Charles is behind the altar of the
    miraculous Host.

    "Many sovereign princes are interred within the walls of Saint
    Gudule, among others the Archduke Albert, sovereign of the _Pays
    Bas_, and his Duchess Isabella Clara Eugenia, Infanta of Spain.
    Here is the mausoleum of Ernest, Archduke of Austria. John II.
    Duke of Brabant, and his wife Margaret, daughter of Edward King of
    England, lie here interred. The tomb is in the choir, it is of
    black marble, a lion of bronze, weighing six thousand pounds,
    couches on the monument; the lion is the well-known heraldic
    emblazonment of the house of Brabant.

    "In the nave of Sainte Gudule are fourteen admirable statues
    carved in stone, which are upwards of ten feet in height; they
    represent our Saviour, the Virgin, and twelve apostles. Four of
    them are readily distinguished as having been executed by the
    admirable skill of a first-rate artist--they are the productions
    of Quesnoy. The altar of the choir is exceedingly fine, and is
    principally composed of white marble. Within the same choir
    formerly were held two chapters of the order of the Golden Fleece,
    one was in 1435, and the other in 1516. Here Charles V. conferred
    that order on Francis I. King of France.

    "In nearly the centre of the choir stands that splendid and
    exquisite specimen of sculpture in wood, the celebrated pulpit,
    which formerly had belonged to the Jesuits of Lovaine. It is of
    carved oak, and was executed by Henry Verbrugger of Antwerp. The
    subject is the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise by the
    Archangel, who in so doing extends the flaming sword. The grief
    and compunction of our first parents is finely conceived: while
    the angel expels Adam and Eve, his left hand gracefully extended,
    with the right he smites with his sword the head of the serpent,
    which is represented as eagerly devouring the apple. In front, and
    on the convexity of the pulpit, an angel upholds a medallion of
    the Virgin and the Child; and in the concavity within is the
    station of the preacher. Behind the pulpit arises the tree of
    life, two boughs of which, curving right and left, support a
    circular canopy, which is formed to represent clouds. The dove, as
    typical of the Holy Spirit, is observed hovering over the
    preacher's head; groups of cherubim are wreathed around, and the
    canopy is crested by upright figures of the Virgin, the Saviour,
    and St. John. I have been thus minute, my dear friend, as it would
    indeed be difficult to speak of this noble piece of carving in
    sufficient terms of adequate praise.

    "The governor's palace, the ancient residence of kings, who were
    sovereigns of the _Pays Bas_, is situated in the park. It is an
    old and venerable pile, with large gothic windows and various
    grotesque decorations. It is called _La Palais de la Cour_.[41]
    The building was begun in 1300 by John II. Duke of Brabant; in
    1452 it was enlarged by Philip the Good, and completed by his
    successors.

      [41] This grand and venerable pile was destroyed by fire 4th
      February, 1731, which raged with such violence and rapidity that
      in a few hours the whole pile was entirely consumed. It was with
      the greatest difficulty that the Archduchess of Austria, Maria
      Elizabeth, eldest sister of Charles VI., and _gouvernante_ of the
      _Pays Bas_, escaped with her life, having only had time to draw on
      one stocking and to fling her robe around her. The young and
      beautiful Countess of Vlefeld, one of her ladies of honour,
      perished in the flames.

    "On entering the palace one beholds a saloon of extraordinary
    grandeur, from whence a gallery leads to the chapel, the
    architecture of which is extremely fine, and of admirable
    symmetry. The other apartments in the palace are extremely
    spacious, and of corresponding magnificence. The exterior of the
    building is adorned with cupolas, towers, pinnacles, &c. A large
    area presents itself in front of the palace, which is handsomely
    enclosed by ornamented ballustrades of stone, in good taste, and
    at intervals columns arise, which are surmounted by statues of
    various illustrious characters, viz.--Charles V., his son Philip,
    the Duke of Burgundy, &c. &c. At the extremity of the park, near
    to the gate of Louvaine, stands a handsome house, which the
    Emperor Charles V. caused to be built subsequent to his
    abdication.

    "The park, which presents an agreeable and fashionable promenade,
    is laid out as a large garden with the greatest taste, intersected
    in every direction by wide and handsome walks, on each side
    adorned with lofty overshadowing lindens. The grounds are
    interspersed with numerous sunny lawns, ornamented with fountains
    and numerous busts and statues, some of which are exquisitely
    sculptured. There is a Magdalen by Quesnoy--the statues of Diana
    and Narcissus by Gripelo--Venus and her doves by Ollivier, &c. In
    the centre of the park stands a magnificent marble basin, well
    stocked with gold and silver fish. On either side of the principal
    walk, which is a fashionable promenade, extend deep valleys,
    shaded by noble lime trees, which afford a cool and agreeable
    retreat from the summer's sun.

    "There is another promenade which is fully as frequented as the
    park, called '_l'Alle Vertè_.' It is situated on the right bank of
    the canal, which communicates with Antwerp, &c. This walk and
    drive extend a mile and half from the walls or ramparts of the
    city. The view from the canal bridge is exceedingly beautiful.
    This public walk is delightfully shaded by a triple row of trees
    planted on the banks of the canal. The scene is rendered
    peculiarly delightful by the prospect which is presented to the
    spectator's eye, the numerous villas in the vicinity, the passing
    and repassing of boats on their way to the cities of the _Pays
    Bas_ and of Holland. These objects cannot fail to please, seen
    through the extensive vista of the lofty limes, which opportunely
    afford a cool and covered shade to the merry groups assembled in
    this favourite spot. Here crowds of fashionables assemble before
    dinner, and revisit its walks in the cool of the summer evenings.
    The _boulevards_, or ramparts, which are planted with rows of
    trees on each side, also form an agreeable walk or ride.

    "The halls of _La Palais de la Cour_ are adorned with a valuable
    and select collection of paintings by the most celebrated and
    first-rate Flemish masters. The library, which is open to the
    public, is placed in the same building, and contains one hundred
    and twenty thousand volumes. Among the manuscripts are a Greek
    Bible, a Terence, a Virgil, and a Cicero.

    "There are many handsome palaces in Brussels: one belongs to the
    house of Orange, another to the Countess de Soissons, Prince
    Vaudement, Prince de la Tour et Taxis; palace de Berghem, de
    Ligne, d'Epinoy, de Rubempre, d'Aremberg, &c., &c. Some beautiful
    gardens--de Croy, de Hornes, de Westerloo, &c. &c.

    "Many of the streets are of considerable extent, containing lofty
    houses of handsome appearance, and withal having curiously
    decorated grotesque gables. The exterior of some of the houses are
    plastered or painted white, some are coloured yellow, and others a
    pale green colour.

    "I must yet revert to the great market-place to observe (for I was
    too much absorbed in my account of _La Maison de Ville_ to do so
    before) that it is one of the most remarkable in Europe. It is a
    regular parallelogram of great dimensions. Although the four sides
    differ extremely in form and architecture, yet, nevertheless, they
    unite to form a noble _coup d'oeil_. Some inimitable, pieces of
    sculpture adorn it.[42]

      [42] These fine pieces of sculpture were destroyed by the
      revolutionary Goths and Vandals, in 1793-4.

    "The number of churches, chapels, convents, and monasteries in
    Brussels, is very considerable. _Le grand Beguinage_, which is the
    most remarkable, is a nunnery which was founded by _Sainte Begge_,
    daughter of Pepin of Landen, from which lady it derives its name.
    This institution resembles a small village; it is surrounded with
    walls, and enclosed with a fosse. It contains a number of handsome
    streets, where every nun has allotted her own dwelling. The usual
    number of the sisterhood is from seven to eight hundred, and
    sometimes more. Every one takes charge of her own property. The
    vow of chastity is taken during the time of their residence in the
    Beguinage; and when they leave the nunnery they are free to marry.
    They are governed by four superiors chosen from their own body,
    and a curate chosen by the Bishop of Antwerp.

    "The territory of Brussels includes a number of abbeys, convents,
    and priories, of different religious orders. All these monasteries
    are magnificently built, and their churches are very fine.

    "The forest of Soignies contains three priories of regular canons
    of the order of Saint Augustin:--1. The monastery of Groendal. 2.
    The priory of Rouge Cloitre: in the library of this priory there
    is a considerable collection of ancient manuscripts.--3. The
    priory of the Seven Fountains.

    "The beautiful forest of Soignies extends almost to the very gates
    of Brussels. It contains sixteen thousand five hundred and
    twenty-six acres. It is stored with abundance of game, and princes
    have often within its extended wilds partaken the divertisements
    of the chase. This noble forest belongs to the corporation of
    Brussels. It supplies wood in very great abundance as well for
    timber as for fuel.

    "The principal commerce of Brussels consists in camlets, fine
    lace, and tapestry. The population is estimated at about fifty
    thousand inhabitants.[43] The ordinary language spoken here is
    either Flemish or French; and indeed I may observe that the French
    spoken here (always, of course, excepting _les gens de condition_)
    is, in sooth, ordinary enough.

      [43] The population of Brussels at the present day is estimated at
      80,000.

    "I have observed some curious customs here, which according as
    they recur to my recollection I shall detail to you, without
    assuming any regular mode or form.

    "In Brussels, and in other Belgic towns, I have seen dogs of the
    wolf species or breed harnessed to small carriages, sometimes
    three abreast; to others four, or even five abreast, and drawing
    very considerable burdens. I have often seen baskets of fish, &c.
    thus conveyed.

    "The kermise, or village-fair, is maintained with full as much
    _esprit_ as ever it had been in the days of Teniers, Ostade, or
    Van Bredäel. Music and dancing are the favourite pastimes of the
    Belgians of all classes and descriptions; and indeed such is the
    extreme infatuation for dancing that it is pursued more as a
    passion than sought as an amusement. The lower class of the
    Belgians are extremely partial to garlands of living flowers.
    Often these are suspended on a pole or tree, around which they
    dance; and often are garlands to be seen suspended on cords across
    a street, in the manner that lamps are hung in the good city of
    Paris.

    "The Belgic brazen pitcher is still to be seen either bearing home
    milk to the dairy, or drawing water from the numerous wells in the
    vicinity of this capital. The shape and form of this aforesaid
    pitcher is familiar to those conversant with the paintings of
    Rubens, Cuyp,[44] Jourdaens, and Equilinus, in many of which it is
    introduced.

      [44] Jacob Gerritze was called Kuyp, or Cuyp.

    "The Brussellois dames wear the wedding ring in different guise
    from what we do. We wear it on the third finger of the _left_
    hand, because it is said, or sung, or supposed to communicate with
    the human heart by means of some nerve or vein unseen; and the
    idea is not devoid of prettiness. Here, however, the wedding ring
    is worn on the third finger of the _right hand_, without any
    reason whatever being assigned for the custom that I could ever
    hear or learn. Rings, it seems, here constitute a favourite
    article in the dress of our sex, the fingers being often covered
    with them. The lower class of females, citizens' daughters and
    wives, and servant-maids, wear long, heavy pendants, or ear-rings,
    made of some yellow metal to resemble gold, and so weighty that
    one's pity is ever on the stretch, lest the patient's ears should
    succumb under the burden. Large heavy crosses are likewise worn of
    the same kind of metal, probably gilt brass, and suspended from a
    chain of the same _materiel_.--Their peripatetic dress too is
    somewhat curious. They wear a veil, or mantle rather, of black
    stuff or silk, which head habiliment had been introduced by the
    Spaniards. It is called '_La faille_,' and is worn like the
    _coiffeurè_ placed on the Madona heads of Carlo Dolce, Trevisano,
    Caracci, and Raffaele.

    "The walking dress of the _bourgeois_ is curious in its way, but
    not so remarkable as the dress of the female as before described.
    His head is enveloped in a hat of a size somewhat so cumbersome
    that it resembles the kaplaken of a Dutch schipper, save and
    except with this essential difference, that it is encompassed by a
    yellow tinsel band, and turned up in front _à la coûtume
    Espagnòle_. Around the neck and shoulders is flung a large cloak,
    somewhat resembling, and evidently borrowed from the _cápa rópa
    larga_ of the Spaniard. A Flemish pipe, with its numerous circling
    curves, is stuck in his lips, from whence clouds of smoke are
    whiffed forth as he onward wends his way. The cloak reaches to the
    knee; thence downward leather gaiters make their appearance; and a
    cane obtruded from the dexter arm completes the walking
    habiliments of the Brussels' _bourgeois_ of the present day.

    "With almost unspeakable delight I told you of my dear Lord's
    return. But now, my dear, pray prepare for more wonders still!
    Know then that at length we have ascertained who 'the unknown
    knight of Chester walls' proves to be. Oh, it is, my dear,
    positively a tale of romance--an incident in chivalry. He is
    indeed, I do assure you,

        ----"'No carpet knight
        That spent his youth in groves or pleasant bowers.'

    No! there is the spirit of romance with the truth of history
    commingled in his story.

    "But, my dear, the post is going off. The duke, who has only just
    returned home, has but within these few moments communicated this
    passing strange event, which you shall have positively and
    particularly detailed in my next.

    "In great haste, ever, my dearest Madam, I remain most cordially
    and affectionately thine,

                                   (_Signed_) KATHERINE TYRCONNEL."




                                 CHAPTER IX.

    Quanta vis amicitiæ sit, ex hoc intelligi maximè
    Potest: quod ex infinita societate generis humani,
    Quam conciliavit ipsa natura, ita contracta res
    Est, et adducta in angustum, ut omnis caritas
    Aut inter duos, aut inter paucos jungeretur.

                                              CICERO DE AMICITIA.

                                 TRANSLATION.

    How great the powerful influence of friendship is may chiefly be
    understood from this, that throughout the numerous society of the
    human race, which nature herself hath knitted together, yet still
    so contracted is the space and narrowed into so small a compass,
    that all friendship rests entirely associated either between two
    individuals, or solely amid the few.

                                             CICERO ON FRIENDSHIP.


The Duke of Tyrconnel set forth from his splendid mansion in the _Rue
Ducale_, one sunny afternoon to take his usual equestrian exercise; and
while riding onward upon the _boulevards_, or ramparts of Brussels,
which are so delightfully shaded by trees, and enjoying the beautiful
scenery that surrounded him, his horse was rapidly pacing in a full
trot, and his Grace was proceeding without any attendant; when it so
chanced that his horse picked up a stone in one of the fore-feet. The
duke on the instant sprang from his saddle to free the horse's hoof from
this impediment; and while employed in the act, a stranger of noble
deportment and appearance advanced, who had been also enjoying the
fineness of the day in promenading this shady avenue. He most
courteously advanced, and tendered with peculiar politeness, and all the
meet grace and due courtesy of chivalry, to assist the duke by holding
the check-rein of the bridle. When, surprising to behold, the horse
almost instantly loudly neighed, and joyfully licked the stranger's
hand! Our readers will readily guess that this distinguished stranger,
whom this noble animal so instinctively recognised, was no other than
his late valiant master, the truly gallant colonel of the brave
Brandenburgh hussars, who had presented, upon their parting on the
plain of battle, this noble charger to the illustrious duke. The duke
and the stranger had met each other as deadly foes in the direful day of
civil war; and in the dreadful onset of personal combat, performing each
prodigies of valour, they encountered as foes, yet they parted as
friends!--respect, admiration, and love occupying those hearts so lately
swollen by hostile passions. They now were both mutually rejoiced once
more to meet, and soon were locked in a cordial embrace.

"This," said the duke, "certainly, gallant friend unknown, was wholly
unexpected--unhoped for quite!"

"Indeed," rejoined the stranger, "so may it please your Grace, it was
entirely as unexpected as it is now hailed and welcomed by me! And most
happy too am I to remark that no change, no vicissitude of war, nor
variance of politics, nor all the fleeting circumstances of these most
eventful times, have had effect or influence upon your Grace, whom I am
truly happy to observe are still the same, unchanged by circumstance or
time--another Aristippus, whom every situation becomes and every
fortune adorns, be it prosperous or adverse!"

"With equal joy," replied the duke, "I behold thee too unchanged--the
same. Welcome, thrice welcome! my friend, my preserver! Although when
first we met it was the meeting of foes upon the hostile plain, I
wearing the badge of green, and thou the orange scarf of William. We met
as direful foes, but we parted with mutual regard and veneration. The
bow of heaven, which the Creator hath placed on high, is formed of those
glorious tints. It was in the shades of colour only in which we
differed. Ere long may the glorious bow of promise, of hope, and of
peace, irradiate Erin's western sky, until the glowing orange and the
glaring green shall melt and blend, and the primitive colours of the arc
of promise be softened down and subdued into the arc of peace!"[45]

    [45]
        "Till, like the rainbow's light,
        Thy various tints unite,
        And form in heaven's sight
          One arch of peace!"

                                  THOMAS MOORE.

"Amen, my lord, I say and repeat it most fervently from my heart; and
may heaven yet, in its kindest mercy, grant that some future great,
wise, and liberally-minded monarch of England, forsaking his ease and
quiet, may yet graciously visit the shores of your noble island, as the
harbinger of peace, crowned with the olive and the bay; and without the
aid of the _camera-obscura_ of his courtiers, view with his own royal
eye the wants and sufferings of your poor islanders; and may his royal
and munificent heart heal the wounds and redress the sufferings of those
who can never cease to love him!--for the hearts of your countrymen are
grateful as they are brave. May they yet be placed within the pale of
that Constitution from which they are now debarred!"

"That, gallant Sir, indeed I devoutly wish; and most fully join and
concur in your philanthropic prayer! Wherever a contrary tendency to
what you assert has occurred in Ireland, it has arisen from oppression,
distress, and poverty. For wherever there is no home to be found there
can be no happiness; and it will be too surely found that an oppressed
and starving population are ever fatally prompt to join the standard of
rebellion; for surely the noise and bustle of a camp and the
soul-stirring trumpet are less appalling than the cries of starving
infants in their parent's wretched hovel, open and exposed to all the
winds of heaven, where can be found nor raiment, nor fuel, nor food! But
come, let us change to a more pleasing subject. There," holding up his
hand, "there, noble stranger, is your parting present which you gave me,
your ruby cameo ring of victory. By night and by day, I have never since
ceased to wear it in remembrance of him who gave it."

"And see," said the gallant stranger, (opening his waistcoat,) there is
the diamond star with which you so graciously presented me. It has never
been taken from my heart, where I placed it at the moment when you gave
it me!"

"I feel with force and with gratitude this kind expression of your
feeling; and now I needs must insist that you take back your own noble
steed--he is yours again! He has become, I fain must own, like myself,
somewhat older--I will not say how long!--since last we parted, but it
is no matter! However the noble animal is still in his prime; he is
spirited, and you may observe he looks sleek, his coat is smooth, and
withal in good condition. Meantime, from this you may safely infer that
he hath had no severe master in me; and now I justly restore him to his
rightful owner."

"Nay, nay, my Lord Duke, that cannot be! What once I have presented I
never can consent to receive back again--never! My Lord, it is utterly
impossible! But still I am not unwilling to compromise this mooted point
between us. If so your Grace be inclined, I shall feel much pleasure in
accompanying you occasionally in your equestrian excursions, and then I
will mount once more my _quondam_ war-horse."

"With all my heart, most gracious Sir! And now, gallant and courteous
stranger, having redeemed my gage, I must, without further parley,
beseech to know thy name and rank, for such I am assured belongs to
thee, to learn the name of him to whom I am so vastly--so deeply
indebted, and one whom I so duly estimate and honour!"

"That, my Lord Duke, is easily told, and in a very few words, if worthy
the inquiry.--My name is David Bruce, of Turnberry Castle, in Ayrshire,
a Baronet of Nova-Scotia, whom chance, or fate, or circumstances, all
combined, placed me a volunteer in the Brandenburgh hussars, where I
arose from that humble station to command the regiment, by merits not my
own."

"Pardon my interruption, Sir David Bruce," rejoined the duke, "that is,
in sooth, the only part of thy reply upon which I must put a decided
negative!"

"Well," replied the baronet, with a cheering smile, "your too favourable
construction, my Lord Duke, I may not be prepared to gainsay."

"No, no;" continued the Duke of Tyrconnel, "you could not--you
cannot--it is too palpable--it is too self-evident! Your courage and
powerful arm in the day of battle are strong as your lofty adamantine
mountains, while in peace your heart is soft and tender as the
thistle-down of your own dear native land! Come, come, no reply, young
baronet, you must needs gang with me, as you say in Scotland; and we
must indeed be better acquainted!--You surely will not refuse to dine
with me to-day, when I shall have great pleasure to present you to my
duchess and my daughter as my friend, and the gallant preserver of my
life! Come, Sir David, no ambages, no circumlocution, no apology will I
take! Nay, nay, you must not hide behind the screen of modesty, and
denied or refused I must not be!--So I shall certainly expect you."

"Your Grace's invitation carries with it so much of interest and of
kindness, that it is not for me to refuse such inducements, and I
gratefully and willingly accede to it. My Lord Duke, I shall duly obey
your kind and hospitable summons."

"At three o'clock then," added the duke, "I shall hope for the pleasure
of seeing you at my mansion in the _Rue Ducale_."

Here the duke and the baronet cordially shook hands, and parted; the
duke to resume his ride, and Sir David Bruce to complete his morning's
promenade.

Sir David Bruce, punctual to the hospitable summons, was the first guest
to arrive in due time at the _Maison de Tyrconnel_. As he entered the
drawing-room--"The knight of Chester walls, _le chevalier inconnu_," was
inadvertently vociferated by the duchess, accompanied by the all
wondering chorus of all that were present--"It is astonishing----indeed
it is most astonishing!"

"Amazing, and quite surpassingly strange!" exclaimed Sir Patricius
Placebo, aided with one or two plentiful accompaniments of his
accustomed _recipe_ from his magnificent Carolus snuff-box, which we
often noticed before.

    "DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

A hem!--Indeed quite astonishing!--most surpassingly strange!"

Most true it is that Sir David Bruce was the unknown stranger who
encountered the Duchess of Tyrconnel and family while promenading the
walls of Chester; and he it was who so generously and disinterestedly
had relinquished the packet-boat which had conveyed them to Calais.

The duke said, introducing Sir David Bruce to his duchess, "permit me,
my dear, to present to you and the circle of my family, the noble
gentleman who now stands before you, Sir David Bruce of Turnberry Castle
in Ayrshire, to whose noble courage and generosity of heart I am
indebted for my life in the fatal battle of the Boyne, for such _I_ must
ever consider it. Greet, then, I beseech you, and welcome him! in him
you behold the gallant preserver of my life, and him I hold and shall
reverence as my sincere friend so long as I shall exist!"

"My Lord Duke, I shall most faithfully obey your injunctions," added the
duchess; "but there I must not pause--there remains yet another account
of gratitude beside.--For exclusive of being the protector, my Lord, of
your life, to which, in the first instance, we all owe and duly feel the
deepest gratitude, yet still another debt of obligation remains to be
discharged--I speak of the truly generous relinquishment of the packet
which had been engaged by Sir David Bruce to convey him to Calais, and
which he so nobly and generously relinquished to us! This can never be
forgotten, at least by us, although it possibly may not be so accounted
by Sir David Bruce."

"I really can see no very great merit, my Lady Duchess, in all this; I
conceive I only did what I ought to do, and that any one would have done
for ladies placed under similar embarrassments as you all were
circumstanced. Permit me to inquire how your Grace likes Brussels?"

"Why, well, Sir David, passing well, it is sometimes just a little
_tristè_, and the atmosphere, to be sure, is somewhat humid, but----"

"And yet," said Lady Aylesbury, (who had just then arrived,) with a
malicious smile, rudely interrupting her; "and yet, Madam, it has,
methinks, proved a very convenient _sejour_ for some _gens de
condition_, who have for some years availed themselves of the
privilege, when it would not have proved altogether so prudent----yes,
Madam; altogether so prudent, to have ventured elsewhere!"

"Oh, true, quite true, Lady Aylesbury, I had nearly forgotten it quite;
but for the verity of your remark, _your_ spouse, as well as my own, can
fully attest, as both are placed in the same state of periclitation!"

Lady Aylesbury looked extremely awkward and mortified at this just
rebuke; she bit her nether lip, and hung down her silly head, writhing
under the deserved lash which her malicious remark had provoked.

Sir David Bruce, who happened to be at the other end of the room, and
seated next to Lady Adelaide, said to her in an under tone, "Lady
Aylesbury is so spiteful and malicious, that I am certain she must be
nearly related to Euryale, one of the Gorgons, own-sister to Medusa, who
was subject neither to old age nor death!"

"It would indeed appear so, Sir David," said Lady Adelaide, with a
sportive smile.

The Duke of d'Aremberg at this moment entered the room, who was
introduced in due form to Sir David Bruce; they conversed together, and
seemed mutually pleased with each other.

The Duke d'Aremberg now approached the Duchess of Tyrconnel: "Pray, has
your Grace read the last essay from the pen of----, and what does your
Grace think of its merits?"

"As I do, my Lord Duke, of all his writings, which are only calculated
to produce mischief, deep, dark, and dangerous; every parent should
dread him and his insidious pen--he is the high-priest of infidelity!"

"I knew and anticipated this, for I am always certain to obtain a
satisfactory and a decided opinion from your Grace, whose just judgment
I can so fully rely upon."

When this praise, so deservedly awarded to the duchess, met the ear of
Lady Aylesbury, with a malicious smile she turned her malignant, envious
eye on the duchess, to observe if her Grace was elated by this praise:
but she looked in vain. But these looks passed not unobserved by the
duchess, who deeply blushed, conscious of the mal-motives which
directed them; and conscious too that she every way merited the praise
which was so justly bestowed: she felt pleased, but not elated; she felt
conscious of the talent she possessed, but both her judgment and her
modesty prevented her overrating them.

The dinner passed over pleasantly enough, and the gentlemen not tarrying
long over their glass, soon joined the ladies in the drawing-room. Lady
Adelaide was solicited to play and sing, and complied by seating herself
at the harpsichord, supported on the one side by the Duke d'Aremberg,
and on the other by Sir David Bruce, who was most attentive in turning
over the leaves of the music book, and he seemed quite charmed and
entranced with Lady Adelaide's singing. Indeed it was not difficult to a
bye-stander to discover that this day the Lady Adelaide had achieved a
double conquest, and that she held captive the hearts of the duke and
the baronet.




                              CHAPTER X.

    I know it well, my Lord--and sure the match
    Were rich and honourable. Besides, the gentleman
    Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities,
    Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter.
    Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him?"

                                       TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.


A constant round of dinner parties in quick succession was briskly kept
up between d'Aremberg palace and Tyrconnel house. The anxiety of the
dowager duchess for the union of her son with the Lady Adelaide was
exceedingly great, and unremitting were her attentions and exertions for
its accomplishment.

"She would, upon that event," she often declared, "contentedly depart
from life, resigned in peace, when once her aged eyes had beheld what
her soul had so often longed for, the union of an only son with the
lovely and transcendently accomplished daughter of the dear and early
friend of her youth." And the fact was, that the Duke and Duchess of
Tyrconnel were equally as anxious in their wishes for the union of their
daughter with the Duke d'Aremberg, as his noble and venerable mother,
looking upon the marriage as "a consummation devoutly to be wished!"

One morning, at an early hour, the Duchess d'Aremberg despatched a note
to Lady Adelaide, requesting that she would favour her godmother with a
visit, so soon as might prove convenient, at the conclusion of
breakfast, to the Lady Adelaide. "She was desirous," as her Grace
expressed herself, to speak to her dear god-child upon a subject which
was important to her happiness. She requested, therefore, that so soon
as it might prove convenient Lady Adelaide would have the goodness to
call upon her old friend and godmother."

An answer acquiescive to the above request was returned, and at the
appointed time Adelaide waited upon the Duchess d'Aremberg, whom she
found seated on a low settee, that which, now varying in shape and
elevation, is in our modern days 'yclept a sofa. Before her Grace was
placed a small walnut spider-table. Her occupation was knitting a silk
purse: for even with the assistance of spectacles, she found it
difficult to read. At her feet reposed upon a velvet cushion her blind
and favourite lapdog Fidelle, who, hearing a stranger's steps to enter
the chamber, awoke from her slumbers, and saluted Adelaide with a volley
of barking, as loudly as age and infirmities permitted.

"Welcome, my dear Adelaide, my dearest god-child, whom I now gladly
embrace; and happy, too happy should I be to call thee by yet still a
dearer name than god-child: I would like to hear thee called daughter
and my son's duchess, while I the world forgetting, shall long by the
world be forgot. Yes, my dearest child, I fain would call thee by the
still fonder name of daughter, the wife of my beloved son, who from the
first moment in which he beheld thee, my dear Adelaide, could no longer
call his heart his own!"

Adelaide felt dreadfully embarrassed. She reddened, and blushed up to
the very eyes; and indeed some time had elapsed before she could muster
up resolution enough to speak her sentiments.

As soon as she recovered her presence of mind, she replied: "How deeply
grateful to the duchess she felt for her numerous attentions and
kindnesses, and above all for the high honour which her Grace had
intended for her, but which she must most gratefully, respectfully, but
yet most decidedly, decline. She could never--she would never, give her
hand, without at the same time that it was in her power to bestow her
heart, and that she candidly acknowledged it was not now in her power to
give."

The duchess again, however, ineffectually renewed her solicitations, yet
with no more success than before, and concluded, as she thought, with
the unanswerable climax of her appeal: "Oh, think, my dearest Adelaide,
how very agreeable the union would prove to the wishes and desires of
the Duke and Duchess of Tyrconnel, which so fully respond to my own!"

Adelaide, as soon as an opportunity presented, promptly availed herself
of it, arose, bade the duchess farewell, and departed homeward.

Upon her return she was met by her father, who conducted her into his
library, and addressed her thus:--

"D'Aremberg has been here this morning while you were absent, my love,
with his mother, and he has made a proposition to us that has met with
decided approbation from both your mother and from me. The duke has
offered you his hand, and places his coronet and estates, which are
princely, Adelaide, at your feet! He is in every respect worthy of you,
descended as he is from a brave and noble race of ancestry, from which
indeed he has not degenerated. Young, valiant, generous, and noble--and
although bred in the camp, yet is his mind stored with the learning of
ancient Greece and Rome; he is an adept in modern languages; and as to
his personal accomplishments and appearance, fame hath bruited it afar,
that fair ladies fully feel their force wherever d'Aremberg presents
himself. What says my Adelaide to this proposal?"

"Often and often, my dear father, have I heard you, and my mother
likewise, say, 'let no young woman ever give her hand in holy wedlock
who cannot also give her heart; if she gives her hand unaccompanied with
her heart, from that moment let her date the commencement of a wretched
life.' Now, dearest father, I cannot give my heart to the duke, and
therefore I consider that it would be dishonourable in me to give my
hand alone! I know well that it may be urged against me what and how
much I relinquish by this refusal--the elevated rank of a duchess, a
splendid fortune, and all the _accessoires_ of high rank. Yes, I abandon
all these, most willingly relinquish them all!"

"Ay, sage Adelaide," severely said the duke, "_all_ for a stranger!"

"Not so, my dear father! the Bruce is no stranger. His rank?--he who
preserved my father's life amid the rage of battle, surely cannot be a
stranger! Gratitude and honour forbid it!--it is impossible. He too is
descended from a brave and royal race--the blood of kings pulsates in
his veins. I shall be silent on all the noble qualifications he
possesses; those that run may read them. And I will not, I confess,
blush when I say that I love the man who preserved your valuable life,
and that upon him my hopes, my happiness, my future fortune in life
depend! I feel, most duly and deeply feel, honoured by the duke's
proposal; however, I respectfully, yet decidedly decline it."

"Indeed!!--So young, yet so determined too!"

"I would not, my Lord, be the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of
Tyrconnel were I to waver, or act irresolutely."

"I see most clearly, Adelaide, how matters stand--'_All for love, or the
world well lost!_' In a word, your heart is pre-engaged. The Bruce!"

"I will not, my dearest father, deceive you. I cannot, I shall not deny
it. My heart is truly engaged; and my affections are placed upon one
who is every way deserving of them, even were my rank higher than it
is."

"Have you ever, my child, observed a settled gloom which at times damps
the lustre of the Bruce's eye, and desolates his noble features? This
your mother and I have at times observed. You, doubtless, saw it not,
too much enamoured to make the discovery. But I have no manner of
hesitation in thinking, and declaring as my opinion, that Bruce has a
secret sorrow at heart;--and one day indeed, I must observe to you, that
your mother discovered him in tears."

"Oh, my dear father, it was only love--retired, sincere, and
unpretending love!--Surely I have wept often myself. But then they were
rather tears of joy to reflect, when finally your objections and mamma's
were overcome, how blest, how happy I should be, united to the Bruce!"

"I perceive, Adelaide, when it is too late, that I have only to condemn
myself for the incautious and imprudent introduction of Sir David
Bruce."

"Not so, my dear father, I saw and loved him before your
introduction--loved him at first sight! The declaration is strange, but
it is true. I know not how it was, but yet I know so it is, and I
honestly confess my weakness."

"And for this thy love at first sight!--this childish offspring of an
enthusiast's brain!--you seem fully resolved to relinquish the noblest
connexion in Belgium, of which princesses might be proud--a warrior
duke, descended from a long ennobled line of ancestry, his suit denied,
and the preference given to a stranger! Monstrous!--not to be endured.
Oh, such a damning fact ought not to have been disclosed to a father's
ear!"

"Oh, dear Sir, say not so. Not to be disclosed to a father's ear!--Oh,
then, pray Sir, to whom should I disclose it, if not to the ear of my
parent? Ought I not hope to find in his bosom a friend, a counsellor,
adviser, and protector; in a word, a father! You saw, Sir--you must have
seen, that I was beloved by the Bruce; and I had not the art to
disguise that I met, that I returned his love. Time was, when a child,
as I well remember, when you oft carried me on your shoulder, and took
me upon your lap: 'My Adelaide,' you then were wont to say, 'you should
ever consider your parents as your best friends, the most interested in
your welfare beyond all the world besides. Oh, never look upon them as
tyrants or oppressors; the tie of affection between a child and its
parents, from continued affection, is stronger even than the filial
bonds of nature herself. In doubt or distress, therefore, ever look up
to and consult your mother and me as your natural protectors and
advisers, in weal or in woe, as your sincerest friends, rest you
convinced, that you have upon earth; and be sure to take no decided step
whatever without consulting us, as you shall ever most cordially
receive, and candidly too, the best advice of your mother and me, and
always be assured of the warmth of the affection of both your parents.'
Now, my dear father, have I forgotten this advice? say rather intently
I have treasured up all these sayings in my heart, freshly stamped and
impressed, as if it were only yesterday that you had pronounced them.
Rest assured, dearest Sir, of this, that I shall never do a clandestine
act; and when thus I solemnly pledge myself to my parents never to marry
without _their consent_, oh, surely they will not--they could not be so
severe or so unjust as to require me to submit without my own!--more
especially when my heart is wholly disinclined--nay, and more, dislikes,
and wholly refuses assent. Say, should I hold forth my hand, dear and
honoured father, when my heart rejects, if not hates! Oh, say would it
not be most base and dishonourable; nay, more--it would be--(horrible to
reflect on!) it would be lying and prevaricating at the altar of God;
and there solemnly, but falsely, declaring that I would 'love, honour,
and obey' a man, however high his rank and great his worth, still that I
never loved, nor ever can love! No, no--a lie pronounced at the altar of
heaven!----I cannot do it!"

"Oh, my dearest Adelaide, indeed thou art my child--flesh of my flesh,
and blood of my blood. Believe me then, and despond not, my dearest
daughter, no aspiration to add to your rank or to increase your fortune
against your consent, shall ever again influence your mother or me. Come
then, my beloved, to thy father's arms, and never again shall our
opinions clash in collision. I glory in the name of father, when I count
that Adelaide is mine own dearest daughter; yea my only one! think then
no more, my dearest child, of what has gone past. I promise you solemnly
that you shall never again be teased or solicited upon this topic, so
think of what has passed but as the idle fantasy of a frightful dream!"

This eventful day appeared to the much-dejected Adelaide as the longest
and most wearisome she had witnessed in the annals of her life. Although
still she deeply suffered, and succumbed beneath the ban of exile from
her native land and home, Adelaide likewise had deeply felt her pride
wounded to the very core at the outlawry and attainder of her parents.
More perplexing still yet seemed those moments of trial which now had
arrived, when Adelaide had to encounter and oppose the opinions of a
parent, in which, although completely triumphant, yet still her success
gave her pain, but not joy. And although the day ended, as happily it
did, in reconciliation, yet it had commenced in the not-to-be-mistaken
tone of high and angry displeasure.

Quite overcome, from thus differing so widely in opinion from those she
deeply regarded, oppressed with a quick and fevered pulse, and a frame
sadly exhausted, Adelaide gladly retired to repose, mentally exclaiming,
as she departed to her chamber,


    ----"Husband! wife!
    There is some holy mystery in those names,
    That sure the unmarried cannot understand."




                               CHAPTER XI.

    At tibi inesse videns cunctarum ANTVERPIA, dotes,
    Atque alias decoris parte vigere tui;
    Jam Famæ Credo, nec Credo; protinus inquit,
    Præsens quam Specto, dixerat illa minus.
    Ergo tu Belgis, quod Vasta Lutetia Gallis,
    Anglis Londinum, Roma quod est Italis."

                                            JACOBUS EYCKIUS.


                               LETTER III.

               THE DUCHESS OF TYRCONNEL TO MRS. CARTWRIGHT.

                                _Dated_, Antwerp, _June, 169_--

    MY DEAR MADAM,

    "Here we are at length arrived; we have been in this city a week,
    and keep our head quarters at the Golden Lion, one of their
    principal inns, where we are most agreeably and comfortably
    accommodated.

    "Long since, indeed, had we planned and intended visiting this
    former capital of Flanders, 'the Merchant City,' whose wealth once
    resembled ancient Tyre, 'whose merchants were princes, whose
    traffickers were the honourable of the earth!'[46] But alas, how
    fallen is this even still magnificent city from its pristine state
    of grandeur, opulence, and population! that I should be inclined
    to apostrophize it in the words of Jeremiah, 'How doth the city
    sit solitary, that was full of people! How is she become a
    widow!--she that was great among the nations, and princess among
    the provinces!'

      [46] Isaiah, chap. 23, ver. 8.

    "We had indeed long intended and projected a visit to this
    ancient, interesting, and magnificent city; but that which is of
    easy performance, what is in our daily power to execute, how often
    do we delay and procrastinate to perform? So that too frequently
    in human life such intentions are rarely or never accomplished!

    "Our mode of travelling from Brussels to this city was by the
    Trëkschuit, (_literally draw-boat_,) or passage boat, which is
    drawn by two horses; it was, in sooth, a most stately and
    magnificent barge which conveyed us, with a handsomely furnished
    cabin beneath; the upper part of the deck, appropriated for the
    _gens de condition_, was ornamented with a tasteful awning of
    white and gold trellice work; the canopy which surrounded it
    intended alike to keep aloof rain or sunshine. The whole of this
    splendid barge was gilt, and most tastefully decorated; while at
    the prow the Belgic lion (the armorial bearing of Flanders) blazed
    forth in burnished gold, flinging its splendid image upon the
    bosom of the waters as majestically it moved along its watery way.
    I must indeed say that it strongly reminded me of the beautiful
    passage in our immortal bard of Avon, where he describes, with so
    much poetic force and fire, the progress of Cleopatra sailing down
    the river Cydnus. But pray, I beseech you, do not think that I
    conceive the duke to be Marc Antony, no more than I compare myself
    to Cleopatra, although our stately barge reminded me of hers!

        'The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
        Burn'd on the water; the poop was beaten gold! &c.'

    At the further end of the vessel, from the awning of the
    Trëkschuit, were stationed a band of minstrels, who, upon the bell
    having been rung to announce our departure, right merrily
    commenced the harmony of sweet sounds, repeating songs and glees,
    accompanied by musical instruments, every half hour, which fully
    broke the monotony of our voyage, rendered so agreeable by such
    sweet melody as to shorten apparently the distance from Brussels
    to Antwerp. And as to our dinner, which we had piping hot and
    excellent, in the cabin below, Sir Patricius Placebo, who is quite
    _au fait_ on such occasions, loudly exclaimed, (and he is indeed,
    accredit me, my good friend, by no means an indifferent judge,) 'I
    vow, 'fore Jove,' said he, 'the dinner was excellent, every thing
    in its kind was good, the wines excellent, and saving and except
    at the duke's mansion in the _Rue Ducale_, he had,' he avowed,
    'not partaken of so delicious a dinner since his _sejoừr_ in
    Flanders!'

    "This he concluded, of course, with his never failing favourite
    Greek quotation--

        'DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!'

    and his accustomed chorus: 'Ha, humph!--Ha, hum!'

    "Although diminished in her population, and depressed in her
    commerce, Antwerp is still a noble city. You need not, however, my
    dear friend, apprehend that I shall enter into a critical detail,
    which fault I am rather apprehensive (although your kindness
    expresses the contrary) I have already committed in my two former
    letters, which have engrossed too much of your time and attention,
    by my elaborate description of other cities; but believe me truly
    that in what now I write, I shall be both brief and sententious in
    this rapid sketch which I am about to undertake:--

    "The view of Antwerp, seen by the intervention of the river
    Scheldt, is extremely imposing and magnificent, its numerous
    domes, cupolas, palaces, and spires, and towering above all, over
    town and tide, the exalted spire of _Notre Dame_, the finest in
    the world, strikes the spectator with awe and admiration. This
    venerable city was once the emporium and the envy of all Europe;
    but now, alas! solemn, gloomy silence, pervades her splendid,
    spacious, but unfrequented streets; the busy hum of men no more is
    heard amid her deserted stately palaces, and silent and solitary
    that noble exchange,[47] where once were congregated the most
    wealthy merchants of the world!

      [47] Sir Thomas Gresham took the model, or plan, of the Royal
      Exchange, London, from _La Bourse_ of Antwerp.

    "You may possibly have heard of the well known and authenticated
    fact of a wealthy merchant of this city, by name Jean Deans, who
    nobly supplied the emperor Charles V. with the immense loan of two
    millions of money; the merchant then prepared a magnificent
    banquet, which he gave upon the emperor's self-invitation; when
    the magnificent merchant, at the termination of the repast,
    flinging the bond into a spicy conflagration of cinnamon,
    exclaimed the meanwhile--'I feel, Sire, sufficiently repaid by the
    honour which your Majesty has so graciously this day conferred
    upon me; fire has cancelled the imperial obligation. However,
    Sire, I am _your_ debtor now, which I ever shall remain, for the
    honour which your Majesty has this day conferred on me!'

    "Antwerp has produced such an host of illustrious men, that to
    enumerate all would truly prove a tiresome task. The names of
    Bomberg, Plantin, and Moretus, are identified with the art of
    printing. Antwerp also gave birth to Grammaye, the historian; to
    Teniers, the Proteus of his art; to Sneyders; and likewise to
    Jordaens; while the mighty names of Rubens[48] and Vandyke fling a
    halo of glory around the ancient city of Antwerp.

      [48] Rubens was born at Cologne, but his parents were natives of
      Antwerp, whom civil war had caused to retire from Brabant to
      Cologne.

    "Already we have visited every place worthy of been seen, have
    viewed every object of curiosity: museums, libraries, cabinets,
    galleries, and collections of paintings: have inspected palaces,
    monasteries, churches, and cathedrals, where are to be seen many
    fine paintings of the first class of excellence. Yesterday we
    visited the royal academy of paintings, and in the chamber where
    the professors assemble, is placed the memorable chair that had
    once belonged to 'the prince of painters,' to the great and
    unequalled Rubens; it is formed of carved wood, surmounted with
    lions' heads, and covered with red Morocco leather, with the
    initials of his illustrious name, and his armorial bearings placed
    on the back of it. My enthusiastic Adelaide fairly enthroned
    herself therein, and there she sat, and would still have sat, and
    how long the genii of poesy and painting can only tell, until I
    had to give my dear daughter a most maternal tap upon the shoulder
    to admonish that we were waiting for her.

    "Next we visited the altar and tomb of Rubens, which is placed in
    the church of Saint James; here my enwrapt enthusiastic Adelaide
    was so delighted, that I really expected every moment to see her
    doff her sandals, and, bare-kneed, advance a pilgrim of genius to
    do homage at the shrine of this mighty man. The tomb and altar are
    highly and richly decorated with marble. A splendid painting from
    his own inimitable pencil adorns the altar, which forms the
    central compartment; it represents the infant Saviour placed on
    the knees of his mother; Saint Jerome is stationed on the right of
    the Virgin; two female figures, which are portraits of the two
    wives of Rubens, Elizabeth Brants and Helena Forman, are placed
    before the principal figure, which represents the painter himself
    in armour, personifying Saint George; the dragon, pierced to
    death, lies at his feet, while, with much dignity and the triumph
    of victory, he holds erect to heaven his triumphant banner. In a
    niche, crowning the monument, is placed a marble statue of the
    Virgin, looking up in the ardent act of devotion, and holding with
    fervour to her breast a crucifix. This famous statue was
    sculptured by Francis Flamand, and brought from Rome by Rubens
    himself; it is a work of great excellence, but placed quite too
    high for the eye sufficiently to appreciate its superior merit.

    "But, my dear friend, were I to dwell upon and detail all the
    various and excellent specimens of the works of art to be
    witnessed in this ancient and venerable city, I should fill
    volumes, and weary you to death. A few more 'last words'
    concerning Rubens, and I have done.

    "To-day we visited the site of the palace which had belonged to
    this most distinguished and accomplished character. The palace no
    more exists, but some few shattered arches and architectural
    remains in his garden are still to be seen, and upon these we
    gazed, as on holy relics, with awe and respect.

    "This prince of painters was a learned scholar, artist,
    politician, and a finished gentleman; ennobled by genius, birth,
    and rank, this distinguished man was selected as the ambassador of
    renowned kings, and decorated by them with honours, well and
    deservedly bestowed; he returned at the conclusion of his embassy
    to his native land. His education had been liberal, and his
    erudition was great, he could fluently speak six different
    languages; his manners, habits, and modes of life, were those of a
    prince. His admiration of men of talent was as unbounded as was
    his generosity manifested to them;--his friendship for the great
    Vandyke is well known.

    "This poor tribute I could not but pay to the illustrious Rubens,
    whose virtues and whose genius must ever elicit the praise and the
    admiration of this and every succeeding age!

    "I had the pleasure to receive your very kind and friendly letter
    from Bath, but grieve to find that the good bishop has had so
    severe a visitation from his old inveterate tormentor, the gout;
    however, I trust that the healing waters and springs of Baiæ may
    fully aid his recovery, and renovate his health.

    "You must know that my Adelaide has received proposals in
    marriage from no less than three personages: from the eldest son
    of the Earl of Aylesbury, which she instantly very properly
    declined, for he was a prating coxcomb, a painted popinjay. The
    next matrimonial proposition came from the Duke d'Aremberg, a most
    amiable young nobleman, an alliance, in every respect, 'most
    devoutly' to be wished for, and gladly accepted. But so thought
    not Adelaide. Her father and I, without forcing her inclinations,
    were most desirous that this union should take place; we
    considered his elevated rank, the first duke in Brabant, his
    lordly fortune, his great personal worth, added to his numerous
    accomplishments. But strange and unaccountable to relate, without
    hesitation, my Adelaide refused him! The third matrimonial
    proposal came from 'the knight of Chester walls,' '_le chevalier
    inconnu_,' but now well known as Sir David Bruce, a baronet of
    Nova-Scotia; and which offer, it appears, was most graciously
    accepted by Adelaide, but under correction and approbation of her
    parents. Which said match is most likely never to be
    accomplished, inasmuch that the Duke of Tyrconnel has solemnly
    declared, that until his attainder is rescinded, and a free and
    unqualified permission given him by the higher powers to return to
    his native country and his paternal towers, he is determined never
    to give his assent to the union of Sir David Bruce with the Lady
    Adelaide. Thus I fear that the lovers have placed themselves in a
    very awkward and distressing predicament, as no two events can
    possibly be more distant, and hardly ever expected to be
    attainable!

    "It is impossible that I should not look up with the highest
    respect to the character and the noble qualities of the Duke of
    Tyrconnel, the unshaken friend of his sovereign, whether seated on
    his throne, or an exile from his realms; uncorrupted by
    prosperity, unshaken and unchanged by adversity; comporting
    himself with that equanimity of temper, that what Horace[49] says
    of Aristippus would apply to him--one whom every change, whom
    every station, and every event became!

      [49] "Omnis Aristippum, decuit color, et status et res."--HORACE.

    "How days, and months, and years, my friend, advance, proceed, and
    are gone like the track of an arrow through the buoyant air, or a
    keel cutting its foaming course through the vasty deep! Alas, my
    dear,

        'We take no note of time but by its loss.'

    Seven years have passed by since our sojourn in Brabant--sad and
    solitary;--oh no, I cannot be so wicked--so ungrateful, as to
    assert it has been; that portion of time having fled in the happy
    home of my beloved Lord, and along with my _alter idem_, my second
    self, as Cicero expresses it, my adored Adelaide. Oh, unjust
    indeed I should be to complain; however, I may confess, _en
    passánt_, that the climate of Brussels is somewhat humid,
    especially during the autumnal months; and the society somewhat
    _tristè_, with a notable lack of public amusements; but believe me
    I truly feel no loss in the deprivation of the latter. Oh, my
    friend, once more freely to breathe my native mountain air!--once
    more to reach the verdant isle, and again to inhabit the towers of
    Tyrconnel! then were my Adelaide suitably mated and matched, my
    sum of human happiness would be consummated. We purpose staying
    here a few days longer, and then set out on our return, by land,
    to our mansion in the _Rue Ducale_ at Brussels.

    "I know well, my dear and kind friend, how warmly interested you
    and the good bishop are in every thing regarding or connected with
    our interest and happiness, and whenever I can write to you upon
    the subject, although poor exiles as we are, I feel not very
    sanguine in my hopes of having cause of speedily so doing; yet
    should a change in our fortunes occur, write I shall
    assuredly--you may depend upon it!

    "Having now, I fear, fairly tormented you with this long and
    tiresome epistle, I shall not add another word but what I know you
    will readily believe, which is, that wherever I am, wherever I
    go, be assured that I remain

                                Your constant and truly
                                          Affectionate Friend,
                                    (_Signed_) KATHERINE TYRCONNEL."

       *       *       *       *       *

    "P.S.--The duke, Adelaide, and my sisters, desire their kindest
    remembrance to you and your excellent prelate."




                                CHAPTER XII.

    Sweet are the uses of adversity;
    Which, like the toad, ugly and venemous,
    Wears yet a precious jewel in his head:
    And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
    Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
    Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

                                              AS YOU LIKE IT.


The Duke of Tyrconnel and his family, and particularly the lovely
Adelaide, were delighted with the tranquillity of Brussels, and often,
accompanied by Sir David Bruce, they gladly sojourned at the ancient
chateau of Tervuren, about three leagues distant from Brussels, and
situated in the forest of Soignies, where a cold collation was
frequently prepared for them, and which they not only seemed to relish,
but were happier in its enjoyment than although it had been served to
them on golden plate in palaces of kings.

Upon one of these pleasant excursions the duke, who was riding next Sir
Patricius Placebo, while passing through the forest his Grace said: "I
never, Sir Patricius, felt so happy--so far, at least, as regards my own
personal feelings--as now I do, and always feel upon these our little
expeditions, if I could forget--if indeed I ever could forget that my
royal master is an exile from his dominions! Save this consideration, I
repine not for myself, nor would I exchange social leisure and rural
retirement for all the pomp of camps and courts, and power political."

"I fully concur," rejoined Sir Patricius, "in your Grace's sentiments,
and in the words of a true AMICUS I may thus reply:--

    "I would not change it: happy is your Grace
    That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
    Into so quiet and so sweet a style."

The duke now rode up to the side of the carriage to make some
observations to the duchess, when Sir David said:--

"I think, nevertheless, good Sir Patricius, with old truth-telling
Persius,

    'At pulchrum est digito monstrari, et dicier HIC EST!'

that it could not surely have been altogether so very disagreeable to be
pointed out as a distinguished person of rank, who was respected by the
multitude, and one every way so deserving of it; and to hear their
hoarse, but gladdened voices exclaim, 'make way there! room, room for
the duke!"

"Certainly, Sir David, I entirely concur in this opinion with you; for
methinks my good and kind master is somewhat too soon disposed to retire
from this most wicked, sinister, and abominable world, and to be as
sick, forsooth, of pomp and praise as ever _Henri Quatrè_ was of a
partridge!"

The pleasure party for Tervuren Castle and park was thus arranged:--The
duke, Sir Patricius, and Sir David, were on horseback, and led the van.
Then followed one of the duke's carriages, with outriders, in which were
the duke's sisters, the Ladies Letitia and Lucy, accompanied by two
grand nieces of the Duchess Dowager d'Aremberg. Then came on another
coach of the duke's, in which were seated the duchess and Lady Adelaide.
Footmen, mounted, closed the cavalcade. The Duke d'Aremberg had been
invited to the collation; but it appeared that he was gone into Holland,
on a visit at the Hague, for which he had immediately departed, upon his
proposals having been rejected by the Lady Adelaide.

The ancient chateau of Tervuren[50] had been built by the dukes of
Brabant. It was situated in the forest of Soignies, and distant two
leagues and a half from Brussels. It was remarkable for its antiquity,
and all that sombrous magnificence which pertained to those castles,
whose foundations were laid in the days of chivalry. It was
circumvallated by a deep and extensive fosse, broad and deep enough
almost indeed to be dignified with the name of lake. Four several
draw-bridges connected the castle with the park, and pleasure-boats were
stationed on the water. Here too was seen, sailing majestically along,
the mild and gentle swan, the peaceful king of water birds, guarding his
watery realm in tranquil peace, unawed by the bird of Jove, with whom he
dares to combat, and even to conquer, although seeking not the
conflict.[51]

    [50] This ancient castle was destroyed in 1784.

    [51] See Buffon, vol. IX. p. 1.

Indeed the swans constituted the chief ornament of the artificial lakes
that were dispersed through the park and pleasure-grounds, and besides
animated and adorned the gloomy fosse that sullenly surrounded Tervuren
Castle.

The grand saloon of this once royal residence was of an extraordinary
size and dimensions. The ceiling and wainscot were formed of rich and
beautifully carved oak, which attracted much admiration. There were also
two other state apartments, the walls of which were decorated with
tapestry from designs of Rubens and the younger Teniers. And exclusive
of these three large state apartments, this once royal chateau could
boast of no other internal splendour or decoration. The park, however,
was fine, crowned with lofty woods, and the pleasure grounds adorned
with the united efforts of taste and art, which failed not to yield
delight to the spectator. Here, during the summer months, the duke and
duchess and family, with parties of their friends, frequently visited;
and having partaken of a cold dinner previously prepared, have strolled
forth in the calm of evening, and lingered until a late hour amid the
groves and pleasure grounds, listening with much delight to the warbling
of the nightingale.

The entertainment given this day was at the sole expense of Sir
Patricius Placebo, who felt exceedingly gratified thereat, as he
expressed himself, for the permission thus granted him by his noble
patron, and said:

"Accredit me, noble Sir, under your sage decidement, I flatter myself
that this day's entertainment will sufficiently prove that there are
those living who fully understand the _scavoir vivre_--ay, critically
well as ever Lucullus or Apicius did; for, ahem,

    DOSS MOI TANE STIGMEN!

as doubtless, when the important hour of dinner arrives, I trust that
your Grace will be free to----But _tempus et hora_--let the time and
season tell! I shall not boast too soon, but leave it to your Grace's
discreet arbitrament! That will be, my Lord, the _tempus opportunum_
perfectly to illustrate _the noble theory of luxury_! at which methinks
your Grace shall marvel much."

"For me to dissent," rejoined the duke, "my good Sir Patricius, from the
two high authorities whom you have cited, would be somewhat too like
Diogenes, surrounded with sunshine, yet growling in his tub; and treason
prepense _certes_ against the noble culinary art!--besides ingratitude
to mine honoured host of Tervuren!

"I know full well that Apicius Cælius, whom you quote as an authority,
Sir Patricius, wrote a learned essay, _de Arte Coquinaria_--a treatise
on the culinary art; and that he may well be considered as the _Pontifex
maximus Epicuri_. But respecting and regarding the great Lucullus,
whose distinction arose from a higher flight than a mere knowledge of
the culinary art, I must observe, _en passánt_, that I flatter myself I
do somewhat resemble that great character, namely, in my fondness for
retirement, which I only regret I had not sooner cultivated, as it would
have placed me above the reach of ambition, and beyond the pangs of
care!

"Indeed had I been born in Belgium, I am tolerably certain that my past
life, instead of being occupied and engrossed in the turmoil of courts
and camps, would tranquilly have passed over in pastoral seclusion; for
man, Sir Patricius, say what we may,

    'Proud man! though dressed in little brief authority,'

is after all but at best the poor and passive creature of time, place,
period, and circumstance!--and, under this firm conviction, I know I
should have wielded the shepherd's crook, and not the marshal's
truncheon!"

"My Lord Duke, there is no gainsaying your Grace's _dictum_, which, in
sooth, is fully illustrated by the beautiful lines of gentle Master
Waller:--

    'Great Julius on the mountains bred,
    His flocks, perhaps, or herds had led;
    And he who subdued the world had been
    But the best wrestler on the green!'"

The shaft duly struck its intended mark, and the duke evidently seemed
pleased, for flattery, although, generally speaking, it is often rather
coarsely served up,

    "Yet oft we find that men of wit
    still condescend to pick a bit."

The moment so important to Sir Patricius had now arrived--the time of
dinner. The castle clock chimed forth the second hour, the baronet's eye
sparkling with delight as he beheld the long extended commissary train
of eatable artillery enter the _salle de manger_; many an ahem! and

    DOSS MOI TANE STIGMEN!

were exultingly ejaculated forth when the dinner was duly arranged; and
with delight he beheld the delicious banquet that lay before him, while
gladly he observed the numerous delicacies which were duly recorded in
his _carte du jour_, along with the choicest wines, from _Malvoisie de
Madere_ to "imperial Tokay." Various choice _hors d'oeuvres_ were
served up, and succeeded by a splendid course of _entremets_, which
concluded with a grand dessert.

Since the royal times of the Dukes of Brabant such an entertainment had
not been witnessed in Tervuren Castle.

But there were luxuries this day produced which are not to be found in
the _carte du jour_ of either the famous _restaurateurs_ Very, or
Beauvillier, or at the celebrated _Rocher de Cancale_ of modern Paris:
_videlicet_--ortolan pies, the celebrated _pâtes des foies gross_[52] of
Strasburgh, and the no less famed _pâtés à croute de seigle des
perdreaux rouges aux truffes_, the far-famed Perigord pies, made of the
red-legged partridge, and constructed by the confectionary skill and
tact of the scientific _pattissiers_ of Perigeux, the capital of the
province of Perigord, in France,[53] a luxury well known, and often sent
as acceptable presents to peers and princes.

    [52] These pies are made from the large liver of a goose. The
    means taken to cause the enlargement of the liver of the victim
    are too cruel and horribly disgusting to detail.

    [53] Now in the department of Dordogne.

The worthy baronet paid every attention and respect to his honoured
guests, and received much praise for a banquet so _recherchè_, but it
was the opinion of all that it was quite too _magnifique_, and totally
out of character both with time and place.

The repast concluded, the ducal party sallied forth to enjoy their
favourite walk in the delightful groves and gardens of Tervuren; and
entering a summer-house they were agreeably surprised once more with the
unceasing attention of Sir Patricius, for they here found tea, coffee,
refreshments, fruits, liqueurs, &c., all ready for their acceptance. So
soon as tea was over they again resumed their promenade. It was a
charming summer evening in the beginning of June, the sky was clear and
serene, the leaves of the surrounding forest were unruffled by a breath
of air, the very zephyrs seemed at rest; the silent lake lulled to
repose, presented, as in a mirror, each object deeply and distinctly
reflected on its glassy surface; it seemed great Nature's holiday; while
enraptured with delight they listened to the shrill mellow warbling of
the nightingale, increased by the silence of the scene, and the
tranquillity of the evening.

Upon this happy afternoon, enjoyed so rationally amid the tranquil
secluded grounds and pleasure parks of the once royal castle of
Tervuren, Lady Adelaide and Sir David Bruce, having been left aloof from
the party, had taken a seat in one of the numerous summer-bowers which
adorned the grounds, and in the day-time afforded shelter from the
burning blaze of a Belgic sun, where, while the nightingale sweetly
sung, Adelaide said, with a cheerful smile, "My dearest Bruce will not
surely prove jealous if for a moment forgetting him, (for it could only
be for a moment,") she added, with emphasis, "that here I pay the homage
of _my_ song to the sweet nightingale, the nightly songster of the
grove; the lark is the sunny bird of morn, but the sweetly plaintive
nightingale is exclusively the minstrel of the night!"

"Oh, no--oh, no, my dearest, my beloved Adelaide! come, pray, produce
thy tablets, for I too am as much enraptured as thou canst be, with this
sweet vocal minstrel of the night!"

"As soon done as said;--see, here they are, and accept them, for they
are yours;--if they should please my dearest Bruce, I am fully repaid!"

                    ADDRESS TO THE NIGHTINGALE.

                                  I.

    Welcome, melodious nightingale!
    Whose warbling thrills thro' wood and dale;
    Still lonely songster of the night,
    Thy enchanted strains delight
    Every list'ner's charmed ear,
    Melodious minstrel, thee to hear!

                                 II.

    Again repeat thy vesper song,
    Echoed these silent woods among;
    For ever here I'd fondly stay,
    And gladly listen to thy lay.
    Is it the force of love so strong
    That pours thy woodland notes along?
    Or say, the thrill of lost delight
    That swells thy song at dismal night!
    Whate'er, or grief, or love, be giv'n,
    It sounds like choral peal from heav'n.

                                III.

    Sing on, then sweetest songster dear,
    Oh still arrest the charmed ear!
    Through Soignies' wood Tervuren's grove,
    Still chant the elegies of love!

"Thanks, my Adelaide, for thy sweet verses, I like them much, very much
indeed, with the exception, perhaps, of the last line, _the elegies of
love_; pray, my dear, you leave such _larmoyantè_ lucubrations to the
Hero and Leander of romance, or to their own Ovid; but, oh, let all
_his_ 'FASTI' [i. e. festivals] be thine! while succeeding years shall
be noted with chalk in the bright calendar of thy days! _Felices ter et
ampliùs essint!_--'The elegies of love!' Why thou fain then believest,
my Adelaide, that poor Philomela, as the tuneful Maro wrote,[54] pours
forth her nightly plaint, and although she so sweetly sings, yet still
thou fanciest the thorn of the rose rankles in her breast, while she
renews at eve her melancholy song!"

    [54] Qualis populeâ moerens Philomela, &c.
                                      VIRG. GEOR. 1. IV.

"Such, at least, was the opinion of the poets. But come, Sir David, let
us hasten to join our friends, who will wonder what hath become of us."

They now rejoined the duke and duchess, and the carriages and horses
having been brought out, they set forth on their return to fair
Brussels.

But, alas! according to the Flemish proverb,

    "Alle wereldsch Goedaardig is Vergankelyk!"

All worldly good is fleeting and transitory! as we now have but too just
occasion to illustrate by facts. The ducal party had scarcely entered
upon the road, which is flanked by the thickest and most densely wooded
part of Soignies forest, the stillness of the solitude disturbed only by
the horse tramps, and the rolling of the duke's carriages, when, upon
the sudden, a shrill and loud re-echoing whistle issued from the forest,
and was instantly chorused by a number of harsh voices fiercely crying
_hui, hieu, huit_; when, almost instantly, a troop of armed horsemen,
unquestionably banditti, collecting from different points, thundered in
full gallop to where the signal was sounded. The banditti amounted in
number to about eleven or twelve, so far indeed as observation could be
made amid the darkness of the night, which was then setting in, and
increased by the deep and gloomy shadows of the surrounding forest; the
confusion too and terror caused by this unexpected appearance, increased
by the clamorous screams, and the many females who fainted, at the
approaching conflict, which was now beyond a doubt. The banditti came up
in full gallop, and forming into ranks, advanced within a few paces of
the cavalcade, and intercepting its progress, presented their
petronels[55] full-cocked; and one, the leader no doubt, meanwhile
fiercely exclaiming in Stentorian voice, '_Basta senors, basta senors!_'
then pulling the triggers, discharged their petronels. Opposed to them
were the noble company on horseback, and the attending footmen and
outriders; these were only armed with long horse-pistols, which,
however, told full well, for Sir David Bruce valiantly brought down a
brace of the banditti, who soon cowered to earth. The duke wounded two
others, who were with difficulty removed. Sir Patricius, albeit, who
would have preferred an old acquaintanceship with his Carolus' snuff-box
at this hour, was equally as successful.

    [55] Petronel was a small gun used by the cavalry.

However, we are indeed sorry to narrate that Sir David Bruce was thrown
from his horse in consequence of excessive pain which he suffered from a
wound received in his right shoulder from a ball fired from one of the
petronels of the banditti.

It was all a dreadful scene of noise, darkness, confusion, and
distress! The duchess, Adelaide, and the Ladies Letitia and Lucy, were
infinitely alarmed; but the nieces of the Duchess d'Aremberg fainted,
and it was some time before they could be restored to animation.

Fortunately at this critical point of time a patrole of _Gens
d'Armes_ approached, who had been for some days in search of the said
banditti, when instantly applying their rowels, with small ceremony, to
the ribs of their steeds, the banditti fled, dispersing in every
direction throughout the entanglements of the forest.

Sir David Bruce, who had received a severe gun-shot wound, was, without
delay, placed in the same carriage with the duchess and Lady Adelaide;
every remedy that could on the instant be procured having been applied
as styptics to stop the flowing of blood, and contrary to all his warm
remonstrances; but we will not undertake to say that it was contrary to
his inclination he was placed within the same carriage with Adelaide;
the coachman was enjoined to proceed at a slow pace, the _Gens d'Armes_
meanwhile escorting them, nor quitted the cavalcade until they safely
had entered Brussels by the Namur gate; whence ten minutes, or so,
brought the ducal party, who had so lately enjoyed a scene of pleasure,
so suddenly transmuted into a scene of woe, to Tyrconnel house in the
_Rue Ducale_.


  END OF VOL. II.




  Transcriber's Note: Most of the apparent printers' errors in spelling
  and punctuation have been retained. A few have been changed, including
  those listed below. The oe ligature has been expanded.

  Line 610  Extra a deleted
  Line 1233 Extra " deleted.
  Line 1782 Extra " deleted.
  Footnote 13 Replaced Poys with Pays and La Clerc with Le Clerc.
  Line 2751 Replaced desert with dessert.
  Line 2994 Replaced robe with rope.
  Line 3473 Replaced desert with dessert.
  Line 3491 Replaced l'Angloises with l'Anglaises.
  Line 3797 Replaced fell with feel.
  Line 5051 Replaced nich with niche.
  Line 5343 Replaced desert with dessert.