The Eve of All-Hallows; Or, Adelaide of Tyrconnel, v. 1 of 3
by Matthew Weld Hartstonge · English · Gutenberg #41212 · 354,082 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Eve of All-Hallows; Or, Adelaide of Tyrconnel, v. 1 of 3
Author: Matthew Weld Hartstonge
Release date: November 1, 2012 [eBook #41212]
Language: English
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THE
EVE OF ALL-HALLOWS;
OR,
ADELAIDE OF TYRCONNEL;
A ROMANCE.
_IN THREE VOLUMES._
By MATTHEW WELD HARTSTONGE, ESQ. M. R. I. A.
Nescia mens hominum, fati sortisque futuræ
Et servare modum, rebus sublata secundis!
. . . . . . . . . . tempus erit,
. . . . . et quum spolia ista diemque
Oderit!
VIRGILIUS, Æ. x. I. 501.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
FOR G. B. WHITTAKER, AVE MARIA LANE.
1825.
TO
SIR WALTER SCOTT, OF ABBOTSFORD, BART.,
&c. &c. &c.
(WITH WHOSE KIND PERMISSION,)
THE FOLLOWING TALE OF ERIN
IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,
BY HIS EVER OBLIGED FRIEND
AND FAITHFUL SERVANT,
THE AUTHOR.
MOLESWORTH-STREET, DUBLIN,
_February 1, 1825._
THE
EVE OF ALL-HALLOWS.
CHAPTER I.
Tollimur in coelum curvato gurgite, et idem
Subductâ ad manes imos descendimus undâ.
Ter scopuli clamorem inter cava saxa dedere;
Ter spumam elisam, et rorantia vidimus astra.
VIRG. Æ. l. III.
* * * * *
Lay her aloof, the sea grows dangerous:
How it spits against the clouds! how it capers,
And how the fiery element frights it back!
There be devils dancing in the air, I think.
_The Sea Voyage._--FLETCHER.
It was upon a dark and lowering afternoon, the 30th day of October, one
thousand six hundred and ---- the day preceding _The Eve of
All-Hallows_, when the Rev. Doctor M'Kenzie, at that time Chaplain to
his Grace the Duke of Tyrconnel, and who had been for some time in the
ancient realm of Scotland, on a visit to his kind relatives and friends
in that hospitable land, had formed a resolution to depart for the
shores of Ireland, to meet his noble patron. When, in pursuance of this
intention, he embarked on board "The William Wallace of Ayr," the sails
of the vessel were unfurled, and the signal-flag was seen streaming from
the pendant of the main-top-gallant, all giving true and significant
indications that the sea-worthy vessel was upon the eve of sailing, and
her destination was known to be for the northern coast of Ireland.
Torrents of rain had showered down during the entire of the day, as is
not unusual at that advanced autumnal period; these were accompanied
with loud peals of thunder, while continuous sheets of lightning
illumined and flashed throughout the darkly tinted horizon, which were
succeeded by frequent squalls of wind, that at intervals dying suddenly
away, served but to make the returning roaring blast the more
tremendous and disheartening.
The vessel was to have sailed at the full tide, but this measure was
entirely prevented by the strong and continued recurrence of the storm,
which blew with such pertinacious force and opposition that "The William
Wallace of Ayr" lay close to its anchors all that afternoon, the whole
of the night, and during the next succeeding day. About nine o'clock,
however, of the evening of the thirty-first, _The Eve of All-Hallows_,
the storm to every appearance had wholly abated, and preparations
accordingly were commenced for the ship to sail, without any further
delay, as bound on its destination. At that point of time the Reverend
Chaplain, Doctor M'Kenzie, and his servant, were the only passengers on
board. "All hands unmoor!" was now loudly and manfully rung forth by the
crew; and all matters having been duly arranged for setting sail, while
the wind blowing fresh and fair, the ponderous anchor was raised from
its oozy bed.
The reader may well imagine, from all these previous preparations, that
the vessel and crew were on the point of sailing; when, hark! the hoarse
exclaiming "halloo!" and the clattering hoofs of horsemen in full
gallop, were heard sounding sullenly on the ear, and next loudly
thundering their deep echoes through the hollow and deserted streets of
Ayr, which rivetted the sailor to the deck, and at once, as if by magic
influence, paralyzed and arrested his motions. The rapid progress of the
strangers exciting the curiosity of the sailors, called forth in a no
less degree the astonishment of the quiet and peaceable burghers of the
good and loyal town of Ayr, who were then about to retire to repose. Two
horsemen now advanced, their wearied steeds pressed onward with the
utmost velocity; who halting for the instant at the brig of Ayr,
inquired with breathless and hurried anxiety, if a boat did not there
await in readiness to convey passengers on board "The William Wallace?"
But the boat was gone! The few sailors, however, or fishermen, who
loitered on the quay, said in reply, that they had gude reason to ken
that the Bonnie Wullie had not slipped cables, sic warstling winds had
blown sic a hurricane, that the gude and bonnie ship was unco snug in
harbour.
The strangers now dashed desperately onward, as if life or death were
staked upon the attainment of their object. The vessel was not yet under
way when they arrived on the beach, their panting steeds besmeared with
blood and foam, and nearly exhausted by fatigue.
The principal personage attracted the gaze of every eye, so noble and
martial was his mien; a tall, graceful, and commanding figure, whose
whole appearance bespoke the undaunted warrior; his firm step, and manly
air, and sinewy arm, boldly told that he knew well how to wield the
falchion in the doubtful fight; while his intrepid eye blazed forth the
talisman of feats in arms and war, and nobly indicating how oft it had
flashed defiance and death upon the daring foe.
"From gory selle and reeling steed
Sprung the fierce horseman with a bound,
And reeking from some recent deed,
He dash'd his carbine on the ground."[1]
[1] Ballad, by Sir Walter Scott.
He was enveloped in a plaid, and wore a Highland bonnet, richly
surmounted with plumes; the stranger was nearly breathless from fatigue
and the rapidity of his flight, for such it seemed to be; added to which
the pallid brow and glaring eye-balls, gave strong and powerful
demonstrations that there existed some other more influential, though
latent source--perchance, it was of sorrow! which affected him even
still more than bodily fatigue. But still these might have been only
mere suspicions, suggestions probably unjustly awakened at the
interesting moment, from the lateness of the hour, the hasty,
embarrassed approach of the stranger; and added to all this, his
impatience and manifest anxiety to embark. It might be assumed that "the
sum and front" of all amounted to no more than this. What then of the
extraordinary or the marvellous could by possibility attach to
circumstances that doubtless any individual, placed in similar
situations, must unavoidably have felt, and betrayed a strong and equal
portion of awkwardness and embarrassment to have encountered?
But without further interlocution we proceed onward with our tale. The
stranger hastily, but urgently, inquired if the vessel would immediately
sail? Upon his being answered in the affirmative, and the boat on the
instant having been hauled down to take him on board, he promptly flung
into it a small valise, which he had carried at his saddle-bow, and
instantly springing after it himself, was followed by his attendant.
When placed in the boat, he took his station at the stern, where,
enveloped in his plaid, he sat immoveably silent, wrapped in gloomy
meditation. Upon the stranger's having reached the ship, he still seemed
deeply absorbed in thought; the same continued gloom and silence were
preserved, while with hurried strides ever and anon he stately paced the
deck. At intervals, however, he would suddenly stop, and then he would
deeply and intently muse within himself, with folded arms, and dark and
lowering brow. Upon his valise was his address written, "Colonel
Davidson,----Brigade;" the term or epithet preceding the word
"brigade," was torn off, whether by accident or intention did not
appear.
All matters on board having been duly arranged and adjusted, while a
momentary interval of silence prevailed--"I say," said a sailor,
addressing his comrade, "its a fearfu' mirk to-night, which bodes nae
gude!"
"Aye, aye!" replied his companion; "but what is still warse, it is
Hallowmass; and too weel I ken that the arch-fient, wi' a' the weirds
and warlocks, will be abread, and alake! I spae the Bonnie Wullie
wull tint the gate! and then we a' maun gang down auld Davie's locker."
"Weel," rejoins the comrade, "it is a donsie night, but I'm nae fasht my
cantie carl! whare we a' maun gang togither, a' that's kenspeckle, sae
nae mair Claivers!"
"Aye, but I wiss, Sandy," replies the other, "to make a' sicker, that
the Deil haed a houd o' the haly man belaw!"
"Whom do you mean?--what holy man below do you speak of?" said Colonel
Davidson, the first time that he had noticed aught was going forward.
"A haly auld chiel belaw," rejoined the sailor, "that's boune for
Eirin."
"Who----what----how----whom do you call him, friend?"
"I ca' him nae doot Maukeenzie. Pray wha do ye ca' um, your worship?"
"Is the vessel bound for Ireland?"
"Yea it be, anely frae the gate o' the wind, that says nae to it."
Occasional squalls of wind now arose, the compass veered, the wind
became adverse; and the storm, or rather hurricane, of the preceding day
threatened to return. Under these gloomy presages
"Short time there were for gratulating speech."
Suddenly sounds like the mournful cadence of the plaintive Æolian harp,
were heard above the waves; but no shape, no form, was visible, not
even in shadowy indistinctness: but solemn musical sounds, wherever they
might have proceeded from, and mocking the human voice, only were heard,
sad, slow, and solemn, as the choral chant, _De mortuis_.
THE SPIRIT OF THE STORM.
LOQUITUR.
Where loud tumultuous tempests rave,
And foaming surges daunt the brave;
I mount my storm-swept throne, the wave!
When midnight fiends their vigils keep,
While lightnings rend the mountain's steep,
I, scowling, rise from out the deep!
When hope within each bosom dies,
While heard the drowning seaman's cries,
The raving spirit of the storm, I rise!
Now list! with more than mortal fear,
The dismal dirge which strikes the ear!
THE DIRGE.
Once we held fair Scotland's throne,
Aye, once we claimed that realm our own;
Fuimus, non sumus!
Valorous deeds our claymores crowned,
We ever were true heroes found.
Fuimus, non sumus!
But feuds, dissension, strife arose;
Oppressed by ranks of hostile foes.
Fuimus, non sumus!
Behold! the last of all our race
Is forced to fly his natal place!
He bears the vengeful, fatal knife,
Deep stained by bloody feudal strife!
Fuimus, non sumus![2]
The chant and dirge were audible to the crew, who listened with deep
consternation, and were awfully impressed upon the recollection of the
Reverend Chaplain.
[2] For the benefit of our fair readers, we venture to translate
the Latin chorus to the Dirge; it means, "We have been, and are
not!"
Every succeeding blast of wind bore increased terror as it swept along,
and every startling sound excited suspense and dismay. Again the howling
tempest burst forth, and raged with loud and renovated force, what time
the stately stranger, or more correctly to speak, Colonel Davidson, in
deep apparent despondency, was incontinently observed furiously to pace
to and fro the deck, as if in a state of mental aberration. He appeared
of more than mortal size to the terrified eyes of the beholders; his
action was wild and frantic. At one time he walked with such rapidity as
if pursued by an enemy; anon he would suddenly halt, and, folding his
arms, gaze upon the troubled deep, which seemed in unison with his
troubled mind. Next, loudly he uttered a deep and contrite groan; when
having rapidly pushed aside his plaid, he drew forth dirk, sabre, or
sword, whatever it might be, which brightly glistened in the lightning
flash; and then, with hurried impulse, he at once precipitated it down
the side of the vessel into the foaming waves. It sunk with a hissing
noise, and its descent was accompanied by a fiend-like laugh, which
arose from the billows; while at the moment, in a deep, base, sepulchral
tone, the chorus of the dirge again fearfully was chanted from the
waves:
FUIMUS, NON SUMUS!
When this dolefully awful chorus was repeated, the Colonel's countenance
assumed the horrible expression of one writhing under intolerable pain,
and seeming to undergo the agonizing tortures of the damned! His
eye-balls flashed fire, he gnashed his teeth, then clenched his brawny
hand, and made a sudden spring, as if in the very act of throwing
himself over board. When at the moment his faithful attendant manfully
grasped him by the shoulder. The Colonel was seized with a trance, and
instantly fell, apparently lifeless, upon the deck. This fainting fit
lasted for some time. At length, however, he was heard deeply to
respire; then broke forth a hollow moan; a cold and clammy moisture was
perceivable on his face and hands. His attendant had him carried down
immediately to the cabin, where he was placed in his bed.
The unearthly dirge and chorus, as has been before observed, were long
remembered by Doctor M'Kenzie, who was then in bed in the cabin below;
and he has been often heard to express his feelings deeply excited upon
this awful occasion; and to declare, that to the last expiring moment of
his existence, he never could forget the mysterious sounds of that
ominous night!
The events, beyond all dispute, were passing strange and fearful; but
then all on board "The William Wallace" bore strongly in their
remembrance, that this portentously awful night was "_The Eve of
All-Hallows_;" and then they ceased to wonder, while each thought to
himself, that
"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!"
They scarcely had been a few hours at sea, bound on their destined
track, when again, with resumed fury, the storm returned. They
consequently were obliged to make several tacks, still endeavouring to
force their way upon the perilous voyage. The harbour of Ayr is a
dangerous one, and to attempt to regain it were to encounter greater
danger than what might eventually await the navigators upon the open
seas. For a length of time they beat between the isles of Arran and the
Firth of Clyde; when at last the wind changing, the breeze blew fair
from the north-east, while the staunch vessel proceeded on her watery
way. They were now sailing along the deep-indented and romantic coast of
Ayrshire, when wearied by the eternal tacking to and fro, the heat and
pent-up-air, and all the dull monotony and purgatorial misery of the
cabin of a ship, Doctor M'Kenzie ascended the deck, and thence inhaled
the invigorating and refreshing breeze, while intently, with admiring
gaze, he surveyed the bold and broken masses of those picturesque
shores, which had become strongly illuminated by the bright lightning
flashes then briskly darting over the wild masses of rock, bank, and
brae, and glanced athwart steeple, fort, and tower, o'er lofty peak and
promontory; when suddenly again all was immersed in darkness! Yet he
perceived that this interesting scene totally failed to attract the
stranger's attention, who had returned about the same time on deck that
the Reverend Chaplain had done, and continued with persevering
pertinacity to pace it, as upon the preceding day.
At that period of time nobly frowned in feudal grandeur those
fortresses, castles, towers, and rampires, which then defended the
romantic shores of Ayrshire from the sword of the invader, extending
their line of defence from Loch-Ryan to the port of Irvine; but which in
our own days have become picturesque ruins, festooned with fern, lichen,
and ivy, and affording solitary shelter to the owl, bat, and raven.
All these were passed by unlooked at and unobserved by the singular and
silent stranger; those classic shores of fame, destined in subsequent
ages to be immortalized in the ever imperishable song of the tender and
inimitable BURNS; these scenes, the favourite haunt of his "Tam o'
Shanter," the rich and verdant lawns, and the romantic rocky braes of
lordly Cassilis. All these delightful scenes were passed by unheeded,
for the stranger did not even look to shore, but studiously turned his
eyes seaward; and wrapt in deep, moody, mournful meditation, he seemed
to rejoice in the bounding billow, and in the roar of the tempest. Not
the mighty towering pyramid, of stupendous height, the colossal craig
of Ailsa,[3] which now they sailed past, could arrest his eye; nor the
fierce wild scream of the osprey, on its summit, could strike his ear,
although joined in hoarse, sullen, and dissonant chorus, by myriads of
the Solan tribe, that plumaged its surrounding base; while other
sea-fowl, like a misty-halo, hovering in mid-air, crowned its conic
crest.
[3] "The stupendous rock of Ailsa rises almost perpendicularly to
the height of 940 feet. The circumference of this singular rock at
its base is about two miles; its shape is somewhat conical, and it
is on all sides extremely precipitous. The only landing-place is
on the north-east, where there is a small beach, formed by
fragments which have fallen from the neighbouring rocks. The
cliffs of Ailsa are in several places distinctly columnar; and the
whole isle appears to be composed of rocks belonging to the newest
Floetz formation, the individual members of which resemble those
that occur in the island of Arran. This rock is inhabited by
immense flocks of birds, particularly gannets, or Solan geese; and
is rented from the Earl of Cassilis at £33 a year."--_Description
of Ayrshire._
The vessel had just shot past Ailsa-Rock, when fiercely the rising
tempest blew such a violent gale, that it caused "The William Wallace"
to be hurried, with vast impetuosity, through the straits between
Fair-Head and the Mull of Cantyre, and then boldly to be at once
launched into the Irish Sea.
The storm now raged with such fury, that it was necessary to furl every
sail, and to beat about the entire night under bare poles; while the
pitchy darkness of the sky, added to the horrors of the storm, made
their situation still more alarming and formidable.
The Reverend Chaplain, much fatigued and wearied, thought it advisable
to retire below to his hammock; so thought too even the solitary
stranger, who, although hitherto he seemed to woo the breeze, and enjoy
the storm, yet also thought it prudent to resume his station in the
cabin, and descended accordingly.
None now remained upon deck except such of the crew as were upon
immediate duty, and who were lashed to the masts; the hatchways were
closed down, and the sea, in mountain cataracts, burst over the deck
with impetuous roar; while overpowered with fatigue, perhaps too with
fear, the passengers fell into a sound sleep. Thus passed away the first
tempestuous night of their voyage.
Before the morning watch the wind strangely and perversely changed to
the opposite point of the compass, while squall fiercely succeeded
squall; and the dawn of day witnessed them coasting, west and by south,
"The storm-swept Orcades,"[4]
in a boisterous swollen sea, and beneath a darkened sky. Sorry we are
here to have it our duty to narrate that the vessel, probably from the
straining of her timbers, unhappily sprung a leak. All hands instantly
were at their post, and the crew exerted them-selves to the utmost in
closing the chasm, and incessantly, without respite or intermission,
plying every pump; and at length their efforts providentially fully
succeeded: for what will not determined resolution do, and persevering
unabating energy achieve! Relieved from this imminent and impending
danger, once more they proceed on their perilous course, amid this
fearful warfare of the elements.
[4] The Hebrides.
The entire of this eventful day the storm raged with unabated fury, the
wind continuing still in the same point, and onward tumultuously they
were driven by force of wave and wind. Towards night-fall the vessel
came close to the Feroe Islands, where it shortly got hemmed
in amid a cluster of rocks, not noticed in their charts. The night was
pitch-dark. However, after an interval, the clouds partially giving way,
the moon, which was nearly full, arose, and afforded a sufficient
friendly light for the Captain to ascertain the extent of the danger
which he had to encounter. He immediately caused the gunwale to be
lightened, by throwing the guns overboard, which effectually raised her,
and the waves of the returning tide assisted in extricating the vessel
from imminent peril. They at length happily succeeded in clearing the
vessel from her jeopardy, and rescuing the crew from impending
destruction. Still, however, it was momentarily dreaded that a new leak
might break forth, or that the vessel, bulging upon other unknown rocks,
might go to pieces, and the sufferers be swallowed up by the treacherous
and remorseless deep. These apprehensions continued throughout the
entire day.
The storm ere long returned more furious than at its first onset, and
soon broadly launched the vessel into the Northern Sea,
"While to the helm unfaithful still she lies."
The masts now became dreadfully shattered from the intensity of the
storm. Dangers and difficulties so increased, that all hopes of safety
seemed nearly at an end. Upon Providence, nevertheless, still the
hapless crew devoutly placed their trust; the Captain, from the very
perilous situation in which they were placed, was compelled to try one
desperate remedy, namely, to cut away the shrouds, and stay, and with
all possible expedition to hew down the mizen-mast. During this awful
operation the crew did not conduct them-selves like men without hope,
although around them all was danger and despair! They felt, however,
fully aware that little less than a miracle could extricate them from
the horrors which surrounded them. With instant promptitude having
obeyed and executed the orders of their Captain, with bold and skilful
celerity they soon lightened the vessel, which bounded with desperate
rapidity into the vast and boundless German Ocean: the watery world was
now all before them, and Providence their guide!
Once more it was day. Nothing however, worthy of being recorded,
occurred at that period, nor during the night.
On the fourth morning a watery sun arose in a hazy sky, they now were
close in view of the coast of Austrian-Flanders, with such rapidity, had
wind, and tide, and currents impelled them onward. They now proceeded at
the surprising rate of twelve knots an hour, the wind and tide
conjointly impelling, unassisted by any sail!
On the disastrous afternoon of this day the vessel made a desperate
plunge, striking upon a cluster of rocks some leagues distant from
land; the shock was so violent that nearly it had split the stern of the
gallant ship. Overcome by terror and fatigue, depressed by despair, and
more like the dead than the living, they remained awfully wedged in
between these dreadful rocks. Eventually, after an interval of suspense
and horror, which appeared to all as though it would never end, the
force and ascendant power of the buoyant billows heaved the vessel
completely over these formidable crags. She was now once more afloat,
but her rudder was borne away; and onward she was drifted at the sport
and will of the fiercely rolling waves.
Thus rapid was the vessel whirled, the mounting waves every moment
dashing in torrents athwart the deck. Again a second shock was
encountered. It was then all despair, desperation, madness! But, oh how
appalling to every feeling heart was the dreadful cry,
"All's lost! to prayers, to prayers! all's lost!"
Still in this state awfully the vessel rapidly was impelled, and
approached more closely to the coast of Austrian-Flanders. But alas! it
is our painful lot to record the unhappy fate of "The William Wallace of
Ayr;" when approaching Ostend the ill-omened bark struck upon a sand
bank, which but too truly is called "_Banc-Dangereux_;" then her
crushing timbers fatally loosened, and, dissevered by the convulsive
shock, promiscuously scattered upon the surface of the waves were seen
floating the disjoined wreck, shattered spars, divided stores, bales of
cargo, &c., along with the mangled corses of the dead, and the
struggling bodies of the living, all commingled, and tumultuously
undulating upon the agitated billows. But providential it was for the
survivors, who, in number, we grieve to state, were but few, that this
dreadful catastrophe occurred so closely to the shores of Ostend. Sorry,
however, we are to relate that all the crew (except two persons)
perished; and that among those who were saved, we have only to count the
Captain of the ship, the Mate, the Rev. Doctor M'Kenzie, Colonel
Davidson and his servant, these forming the very confined list, we
regret to say, of those who survived the terrors of that eventful day.
Impelled by the resistless call of humanity, several boats had put out
from the harbour, perceiving the perilous situation of the poor unhappy
sufferers; so that when the dread event took place, these were ready and
prompt to save the remnant of those who survived what time "The William
Wallace"
"Bulg'd at once, and in the deep was lost!"
The humanity of the Flemish sailors was rewarded by preserving the lives
of five individuals, as we have already observed, from a watery grave;
great manual and unwearied exertions were necessary for success, and the
unhappy sufferers were landed in safety upon the quay of Ostend.
Ostend is well known to every intelligent reader as a strong fortified
sea-port; but at the period of our narrative it did not appear under the
most favourable point of view, from the devastation that had ensued in
consequence of the long protracted siege of three years and three
months, which it had sustained against the Spaniards, under the command
of Spinola,[5] when fifty thousand of the garrison and inhabitants
perished in this fatal siege, either by disease or the sword; which
losses were severely retaliated and multiplied by the deaths of eighty
thousand of the besiegers!
[5] This, by the way, seems too like a bold anachronism of the
Reverend Gentleman's, but it has been correctly transcribed from
the M'Kenzie MSS. at least _omnia quæ extant_. However, for our
own part we must say, that we are strongly inclined to acquit the
Reverend Gentleman and scholar upon this score, inasmuch as he has
high authority to plead in self-defence the Bard of Mantua having
thought proper to make Æneas and Dido cotemporaries; and yet the
former flourished ONLY two hundred years before the building of
Carthage! with which anachronism to compare the Doctor's little
historical lapse, were indeed merely to match
"A mole-hill with Olympus!"
Upon their landing on _terra firma_, Colonel Davidson and Doctor
M'Kenzie put up their quarters at the old Saint Michael Inn; and there
having been refreshed and invigorated by a hearty substantial meal,
which fully and essentially answered every purpose of three or four
breakfasts, dinners, and suppers, they heartily congratulated each other
in a bottle of genuine and veritable Rhenish wine, upon their most
miraculous escape from a watery grave! They subsequently retired at an
early hour to repose, overcome, as they had been, by their sufferings
and fatigue both of body and of mind, to recover, by the renovation of
slumber, "kind Nature's gentle restorer," from the lassitude and horrors
of this eventful day.
The next morning they arose quite, or nearly, recovered from their past
sufferings; however, with the exception of the Reverend Gentleman, who
rather somewhat gravely grumbled at the perils which they had passed.
Nevertheless, with good seeming appetites, both began a tolerable _coup
de main et de fourchette_ upon the breakfast placed before them. Doctor
M'Kenzie observed, while he and the Colonel were sipping some admirable
coffee, assisted by the _agréments_ of excellent Flemish bread and eggs,
and swallowing _con amoré_ some Malines ham, which, accompanied with a
flowing flagon of Louvaine beer, no doubt put the grave and Reverend
Gentleman into the following train of thought: "I feel, my dear Sir,"
said he, "such a decided and unconquerable objection to a sea-voyage, at
least for some time to come, from which, although it may be silly in
sooth to say I have suffered so much, yet for the present I quite forego
my intention of returning to Ireland--I have indeed too much in my
recollection the
'Quæque ipse miserrima vidi,
Et quorum pars magna fui----.'
I therefore purpose to proceed to Aix la Chapelle for the benefit of its
waters. Indeed so great is the decided repugnance which I feel to again
encounter an aquatic expedition, that in the words of our old classical
acquaintance, Ovid, I needs must confess that--
'_Æquora me terrent, et ponti, tristis imago!_'
'The expansive ocean now affrights me,
And sad the mournful aspect of the deep!'
Moreover, gallant Colonel, I must say that I prefer the peaceful scenes
of nature and rural life to the war of elements, and the rage of
battle!"
"Well spoken, my Reverend Sir, like a peaceful gownsman, and quite
becoming the doctrine of that Gospel of which thou art a sacred
minister. But as for me, I like the din of battle, the neighing of the
noble war-horse, and the battle-stirring trumpet's brazen voice, the
groan of death, where contending squadrons commingle in the dreadful
shock, chorused by the cheering shout of victory."
The Colonel had just, in an emphatic tone of voice, twice shouted
"victory!" and had fiercely made another gallant attack upon the Malines
ham, when the door of the apartment was rudely opened, and entered by a
party of Gen d'Armes, who immediately proceeded to arrest them as
prisoners of war, on suspicion of being spies; and after a short
interval they both were led off and escorted to prison, where, attended
by the Colonel's servant, for the present we needs must leave them,
however reluctant, in durance vile.
* * * * *
The above Chapter, unquestionably in unison both with the history and
chronology of our Tale, should indeed occupy a much more remote station
in this our Romance of the days of superstition; but as we felt and
considered it of importance, and besides imping too our flight with some
portion of epic boldness, we have nobly dared and adventured to dash at
once "_in medias res_;" in the pursuance of which truly magnanimous
determination, courteous reader, we shall tell thee fair and softly, yet
in candour, that we shall necessarily be obliged (if thou wilt so
graciously permit us) to make some retrograde motions in the subsequent
chapters.
But, gentle reader, if thou wilt deign to recollect, that once a year
even mighty Sol himself, beneath Cancer, the influential sign of the
summer solstice, becomes retrograde. When thus we plead such high
authority thou wilt not perhaps deny an extension of the same privilege,
albeit to a disk, small and insignificant even as ours, undiscernible by
the eye of a Brinkley or a Herschell![6]
Permit us then, kind and patient reader, to retrace our steps and story
to the early part of this our notable history; then shalt thou learn the
birth of our interesting heroine, and become acquainted with personages,
characters, and events, connected with our Tale, which we trust thou
mayst find to be withal not unpalatable to thy taste; for which favour,
and all retrogressions, and progressions, and egressions, (we hope no
transgressions!) thanks and health to thee, mild and patient reader! We
laud thee for thy gentle forbearance and good humour in having
accompanied us thus far in this our long peregrination; wishing,
courteous reader, that thou couldst bestow on us the "_plaudite_" of old
Plautus, but without his _valete_, as we shall meet anon!
[6] Since the above was written Dr. Herschell has paid the debt of
nature. The other celebrated astronomer lives, and it is hoped
providence will yet grant him many years to preside over the noble
science which his powerful mind so ably illustrates and adorns.
CHAPTER II.
Still in the vale the village bells ring round,
Still in TYRCONNEL hall the jests resound;
For now the caudle-cup is circling there,
Now glad at heart the gossips breathe their prayer,
And crowding, stop the cradle to admire
The babe.
HUMAN LIFE.
The lovely Adelaide Raymond, the heroine of our Tale, was the only child
of Raymond Duke of Tyrconnel. An old prophecy or tradition had
immemorially prevailed, that what time a raven should build her nest in
the ducal coronet which decorated the summit of the loftiest
pavilion-tower of the castle, a male heir, upon this event, should then
be wanting to the noble house of Tyrconnel. And this sad occurrence, so
deprecated by the dark and credulous terror and tenor of those
superstitious times, actually occurred some months previous to
Adelaide's birth: a raven had then built her nest within the ducal
coronet; and a few posts after brought an account that Lord Richard
Raymond, the Duke's only brother, had been killed in a duel at Paris.
From this partial fulfilment of the augury the Duke's dependants were
filled with the melancholy forebodings that the Duchess, expiring during
the pains of parturition, should give birth either to a still-born, or a
female infant.
However the latter supposition proved to be well-founded, as the Duchess
was soon safely delivered of a female child, in due and given time, upon
the Eve of All-Hallows, the 31st day of October, in the year one
thousand six hundred and ---- pending the bodings of the raven, and the
vaticinations of the vicinage.
The family of Tyrconnel, through the female line, traced their high
descent from a proud and ennobled ancestry, (not less illustrious than
that of the noble Duke;) the pedigree was traced from the high
chieftain, famed _Nial Necalloch_, (or, Nial of the Nine Hostages,) who
in his glorious and chivalrous career had achieved various noble feats
in arms. But not content with these successes at home, he sought for
fame in foreign lands, where in the ardent search and attainment of
glory, his gallant course of valour run, he closed his brave and
honourable life amid the sunny regions of France; where this warlike
planet, this Mars of Erin, expired upon the banks of the Loire,[7]
falling like the valiant Richard I. of England, "The lion-hearted," by
the arrow of the assassin.
[7] Histoire d'Irlande, par L'Abbe Ma-Geoghegan, _tome_ 1.
Indeed the house of Tyrconnel might be truly called _a noble family_,
"for all the daughters were chaste, and all the sons were valiant." PER
ACUTA BELLI was the motto which fearlessly they bore, and which, ever
unchanged amid the war-trumpet's clang, the burst of battle, and the
shouts of victory, or the dismaying groans of defeat, they proudly and
nobly maintained; their escutcheon might oft have been encrimsoned by
the blood of the bold, but it still defended the heart, and was upheld
by the arm of the brave!
The Duke traced his ancient, lordly, and lineal descent from Raymond
Count of Toulouse, who was the first zealous champion in serving, and
enthusiastically heading, the Christian cause in the holy wars.
Adelaide Raymond, the only child of Raymond Duke of Tyrconnel, was born
upon the 31st day of October, _anno salutis_, one thousand six hundred
and----upon the Eve of All-Hallows, as we have already noticed. His
Royal Highness James Duke of York, (brother and presumptive heir to
Charles II.,) and who afterwards succeeded to the throne of the triple
realms as James II., upon this happy event was most graciously pleased
to signify his royal intention of standing sponsor for Lady Adelaide;
which high distinction was gratefully and proudly accepted by the Duke
and Duchess of Tyrconnel; and the Lord Glandarrah was chosen as proxy
for the royal sponsor.
Adelaide almost immediately after her birth had been privately
baptized; but the first day of May, which had now arrived, was the day
appointed for the state christening. The Duchess d'Aremberg, an early
friend of the Duchess of Tyrconnel, stood godmother for the Lady
Adelaide, and appointed Lady Lucy Raymond, the Duke's youngest sister,
as her proxy. Nor did the Duchess d'Aremberg forget to send a baptismal
present upon this august occasion, which arrived in due season, in the
shape and form of an infant's cap and frock, all beautifully formed of
exquisite Brussels lace, and made under the eye and express directions
of the illustrious godmother: and to these were added a scarf and sash
of rich Mechlin lace. Nor did Her Grace omit also to send, as was then
usual, a handsome _honorarium_ to the child's nurse, Mrs. Judith
Braingwain, with whom our gentle reader, in due and given time and
place, shall become better acquainted in the following pages of this our
eventful history.
But with due leave and respect we must now be permitted to say a word or
two concerning the ancient and noble baronial castle, where the high
and exalted ceremonial of this day was with such pomp to be celebrated.
The castle of Tyrconnel was situated in the province of Ulster, where
its majestic stately ruins still remain magnificent even in decay. It
stood upon the verge of a triangular village, to which it gave its own
ennobled name, as it was the generic name at that period of the town and
the county, which was a district of large extent. Since that time, in
these our modern days, the ancient name of Tyrconnel has been changed
into Donegal.[8]
[8] This castle now belongs to the Marquis of Conyngham.
The castle is boldly elevated upon the rocky and precipitous margin of
the river Eske, which rolls its impetuous torrent into the Atlantic
Ocean, from which it is only half-a-mile distant. Mountains surround the
castle on every side, except to the west, from which point receding,
they open a noble vista to the sea, and give a solemn and magnificent
character to the entire scenery. Here the curving and fantastic
outlines of the distant mountains, clad in aërial blue, arise in endless
and beautiful variety, glowing or darkening with every varying tint and
tone of sun-shine or of shadow, reflecting each rainbow hue of the
atmosphere, and then boldly blending sky and mountain into one
congregated mass of undefinable tint; so that the dark blue cloud which
rolls above can with difficulty be distinguished from the dark blue
mountain that, towering, frowns beneath.
The approach to the majestic steep where this ancient and celebrated
fortress stands, is through the well-known pass of _Barna-More_, or the
great gap; which is here formed by the opening arms of the stupendous
mountain of Sleavedoon, whose gigantic heights constitute vast
continuous barriers to the extent of fourteen miles, girdling within
their extended embrace a varied and lonely valley, which expands and
smiles beneath.
This massive fabric was planned and piled in the twelfth century by the
first Earl of Tyrconnel, and was then, and subsequently for a series of
years, garrisoned as a fortress. The castle, although by no means
deficient in architectural grandeur, yet appears to have been
constituted principally with a view to strength; and that object
unquestionably in those days was fully attained, for it was utterly
impregnable to all hostile attacks in that early age. The form of the
castle is square, and flanked by frowning turrets of similar
conformation; the ground-plan is constructed upon an extended scale, and
the design of the building is withal irregular: a large magnificent
quadrangular court-yard adorns the interior, which is surrounded by
bastions, battlements, and towers.
There is a projecting barbican, whose fragments yet remain still boldly
overhanging the river Eske, and which seems to have been intended for
the purpose of supplying the castle with water, while it is also
supposed to have been occasionally used as a donjon-keep, and which
afforded an expeditious mode of despatching the prisoners whom the
haughty Lord refused to surrender, or was unwilling to maintain, by
plunging them down the vortex of the ceaseless current which rapidly
rolls beneath.
When the Duke of Tyrconnel resided here several small pieces of cannon
were pointed from the embattled bartizan of the central tower, adding to
its ornament as well as to its defence. The grand front of the castle
was situated seaward; to the west extended a lofty terrace; the
embrasures of the parapet wall which enclosed the terrace were furnished
with about a dozen of twelve pounders; while the deep foundations of the
bastions were moated by the impetuous waters of the Eske, fiercely
rolling onward to the Atlantic Ocean.
This lordly pile was this day (the 1st of May, one thousand six hundred
and----) destined to be the scene of uncommon festivity and grandeur;
indeed such pomp and magnificence never before were witnessed within the
walls of Tyrconnel castle. All the nobility and gentry in the country
for many miles round were invited to assist at the baptismal banquet
given for the noble and lovely infant; and every princely preparation
was in readiness duly to celebrate this distinguished day.
The noble banner, quartered and emblazoned with the ancient bearings of
this illustrious family, from its gilt flag-staff, which was crowned
with the ducal coronet, proudly floated over the high central tower,
which latterly had obtained the _agnomen_ of "the raven tower," from a
circumstance which already has been related. The guns on the parapet
fired a loud _salvo_ to welcome the happy day; while the ancient harper
(old blind Cormac) and the piper were put in immediate requisition, to
add the notes of harmony to the loud reports of joy.
The tenantry and peasantry, both male and female, were invited, and
gladly came, clad in their holiday suits, to partake of a rural banquet,
prepared expressly for the occasion within marquees erected on the lawn.
The costume of the servants of the Duke was truly princely, and all who
wore livery appeared richly apparelled in their state attire of green
cloth, deeply laced, and embroidered with gold. The old cathedral tower
pealed forth many a merry chime, which duly was responded to by the
distant tinkling of the surrounding village bells.
While these preparations were advancing, the Duke happened to be walking
upon the terrace, and hearing old Cormac touch his harp and prepare to
sing, with the intent, no doubt, that his voice and strings might sound
in due tone and harmony at the approaching festival; the Duke had the
curiosity to step onward to hear the notes of the aged minstrel--for he
was both minstrel and harper; and His Grace listened to learn whether
old Cormac had composed any rhythm or song for this great and happy
occasion. Accordingly with this fixed intent His Grace advanced to the
door of the great hall which led out to the terrace, and which happened
to be then open; from thence he listened, and heard the following lines
sung by Cormac, which the old man accompanied with his harp:--
CORMAC'S SONG.
Loud strike the harp! and raise the song!
To Raymond shall the verse belong!
And hail his noble, lovely child,
The image of her mother mild.
O softly rest, sweet baby there,
And as thy morn, thy life be fair!
Long may that smile of angel grace
That now illumes thy beauteous face,
Attend thee through life's stormy race!
May no mischance destroy thy rest,
Be thine the sun-shine of the blest;
And when thy earthly course is past,
Be thine the joys shall ever last!
Friendship on earth be thine, and love,
And thine eternal bliss above!
The Duke felt exceedingly pleased at the attachment and feeling
expressed by the old man in his extempore song, although he might not
think very highly of the poetical composition. But the words came from
the old man's heart, and the strain to which his harp rang forth was an
old Irish air, so the Duke was fully satisfied; and having advanced and
entered the hall, he approached old Cormac, and in a gracious tone he
said to the sightless bard, "Thanks, Cormac, accept my grateful thanks;
and moreover, here is largess for the minstrel, and withal it is stamped
in gold." So having said, he passed a gold _Carolus_ into the minstrel's
hand; for which bounty, with tears flowing from his sightless eye-balls,
the grateful old man made a low and respectful obeisance, adding due
courtesy.
Here the Duke retired to dress, to receive his company; and meeting with
his physician, Sir Patricius Placebo, on his way, he deputed him to do
the honours should any of the guests arrive while His Grace was attiring
for the banquet.
Sir Patricius Placebo had been created a baronet by king Charles II., in
grateful return for active services and personal kindnesses performed in
favour of the monarch during his long exile from the throne of his
ancestors; and he was, through the favour of His Royal Highness James
Duke of York, who afterwards became James II., introduced, with every
favourable recommendation, to the Duke of Tyrconnel.
Sir Patricius Placebo now became forth-with family physician to the
Duke. He had been baptized plain Patrick, but assumed that of Patricius;
whether it was selected for the euphony of the sound, or the dignity
which it implied, or both considerations probably swaying together, the
reason of the selection has not been sufficiently defined, nor do our
historical annals record the cause. But thus the baronet in sooth was
called, and so he wished to be designated.
The attire of Sir Patricius was in due accordance and conformity to the
medical costume of the time, which is worthy of being preserved as a
historical morceau. His head was enveloped within an enormous bushy
peruke, which at this period was confined to the learned professions, or
those who affected gravity. This said peruke was _bien poudré_, and upon
its summit was perched a small gold-laced hat of triangular shape and
form, fastened with gold loops, and a button at the sinister side of
said triangle. His costume was a rich black velvet coat, without a
cape, made single-breasted, with long and portentously extended skirts,
starched, and stuffed, and stiffened forth, with a magnanimous
expenditure of stay-tape and buckram; from out of which sprung, and
sparkled forth, the ornamented hilt of a small sword. The sleeves of the
coat were large and slashed, each capacious enough to have contained a
moderate sized turkey. The waistcoat, formed of the same materials, was
likewise in unison with the coat, single-breasted, with long flaps or
skirts, which might have given no bad idea of the Roman _sportula_. His
cravat was formed of the richest muslin, deeply edged with Mechlin lace,
which, after passing several times around the neck, meandered through
the button-holes of the waistcoat, so as nearly to reach the extremity
of the waist. His small-clothes were made likewise of black velvet,
according to the curious, and certainly not very seemly fashion of the
times. The hose, or stockings, were of scarlet silk, which were tightly
drawn up, and ascended the knees upon the exterior of the small-clothes,
and that too to the very utmost of their outstretched extent; at the
ankles the hose were adorned with clokes of gold net-work.[9] The shoes
were fashioned with broad square toes, made with short quarters and high
tops, and were so highly polished that they might well indeed have
elicited the admiration, if not the envy, of the fabricator (if then
living) of "Warren's jet blacking!"[10] The shoes were fastened by small
square gold buckles richly wrought. His solitaire of rich black satin,
must not perish in oblivion, along with all the dignified _et ceteras_
of a proud chevalier of that chivalrous day. His ruffles and chitterlin
were of rich Poyntz lace; while over and around his shoulders was flung
a long Spanish _cápa rópa lárga_, a large wide cloak or roquelaire of
rich Spanish cloth, the inside dyed white, the exterior scarlet; and it
is certainly imagined that no one ever yet stood in proximity with the
Doctor's red flowing roquelaire without wishing mentally for the
approach of a fire-engine!
[9] Silk stockings first became usual in the reign of Elizabeth.
These articles of finery "were curiously knit with open seam down
the legge, with quirks and clokes about the ancles, and sometimes
(haply) _interlaced with gold or silver threads_, as it is
wonderful to behold."--_Beaumont and Fletcher_, vol. v. _Note_, p.
353.
[10] "Shining shoes" are often noticed by Massinger, Jonson, and
other old dramatists.
But we must now complete the portrait of Sir Patricius. He constantly
carried an Indian cane, surmounted with a gold head of beautifully
perforated filligree-work, the interior of which contained cotton
steeped in aromatic vinegar; and it was amusing to behold with what
dignified gravity and grimace he ever and anon applied the said cane to
the olfactory organ, and with much seeming satisfaction. When this
stately toy was relinquished, it gave place to a more magnificent bijou,
in the shape of a gold snuff-box: upon the lid was inserted a miniature
of Charles II. by the celebrated Samuel Cooper. And let it be remembered
that "he was the first who gave the strength and freedom of oil to
miniature!" This fine production of original genius was appropriately
encircled around with large brilliants. The act of snuff-taking was
slowly performed by the grave pressure of the thumb and fore-finger of
the right hand, deliberately and ceremoniously performing a curve, or
segment of a circle, while with a sly and approving gaze he contentedly
ogled a large diamond ring placed on the little finger. When the Baronet
spoke it was with a rich and most mellifluous brogue, and to which the
tone of consequence did not seem wanting: albeit to those who invited
him to a good dinner when the Duke was absent, or who annually
vouchsafed to take or order a box of his _Pillulæ Vitæ_, he was, in
sooth, a very pleasant, accommodating, and polite gentleman.
Sir Patricius was standing on the terrace, and leaning thoughtfully upon
his cane, when Captain Heaviside rode up to the steps; and alighting
from horseback, he ascended the stately terrace. Captain Heaviside was
all things to all men--ay, and to all women. He was the _pious Æneas_ in
church, conventicle, or chapel; but he was the _dux Trojanus_ in the
grotto or drawing-room.
"Good morrow, Captain."
"Sir Patricius, your most humble servant."
"Would you wish, Captain, to view the demesne?"
"Certainly, Sir Patrick--I mean Sir Patricius. I beg pardon, dear Sir;
but will you first allow me to jump out of these leathern turrets? I
hate all confounded French fashions."
The Captain retired to the chamber appropriated for him. There freely
disengaged from the ponderous encumbrances which were worn at that era.
After a few moments he rejoined the Baronet in the great hall of the
castle. It was not then the fashion, _à la Turke_, to wear mustâches;
nor was it considered necessary to announce the approach into
the drawing-room or dancing saloon, of the man of war, by the loud clank
and clatter of his iron heels, steel chains, and brass spurs, or the
ponderosity of an immense sabre, enclosed in an iron sheath, and
"dragging its slow length along." No; Captain Heaviside came in
full-dress, according to the studied propriety and etiquette of the age.
The great baronial hall was sumptuously fitted up as an armoury; the
walls were adorned with all the ancient arms and weapons which were
peculiar to Ireland; it was wainscoted with carved native oak; the
ceiling also was of oak, ornamented with carved, basso-relievos of
armorial escutcheons, armour, warlike weapons, coats of arms, crests
mottoes, &c. Several horns of the moose-deer, of immense dimensions,
surmounted the architraves and door-cases. At either end of the hall
were two large fire-places, with gigantic chimney-pieces of Irish
marble; the central compartment of each was decorated with armorial
sculpture, representing the Irish harp, surmounted by the radiate, or
Irish crown, the supporters, two wolf-dogs of the Irish breed, and
underneath, in Gælic, a motto under each device; the interpretation of
which, partly in allusion to the Irish wolf-dog, as also to the manly
character of the inhabitants of the island, was, "Gentle when soothed,
fierce when provoked." Various war-weapons tastefully displayed and
arranged, of ancient Irish make and form, glittered upon the walls; viz.
spears and javelins, "the heavy broad-eyed spear of battle," swords,
daggers, skeines of iron and brass, two-handled swords, and among them
conspicuously shone forth the double-handled sword of the renowned NIAL
NECALLOCH, richly ornamented and inlaid with gold; metal halberts were
arranged in the same class with tuagh-catha, _i.e._ battle-axes, tuagh
suaighte or clipping axes, fiadhgha, crannuibhs, spears, clubs, Irish
lances, spears, javelins, jacks, corslets, haubergeons, targets,
bucklers, pavices (shields), cailmhions, salets, skulls (_i.e._
helmets), sceptres beautifully inlaid with gold, fibula (brooches) of
brass, silver, and gold, richly and exquisitely wrought; bits and spurs
of an enormous size, and inlaid with gold; druidical scythes, ancient
Irish harps (the _cithara_), ancient Irish trumpets of various kinds and
names, the stuic or stock, the buabhall, the beann, the adharc, and the
corna or bugle-horn; the dudag, the gall-trompa, the cibbural or
corabus, the cornan or cronan, and the iachdarchannus (_quasi_, _cantus
bassus_.) But here we close our antiquarian summary, as we begin fairly
to suspect that many of our readers have no partiality to such ancient
researches; suffice it then to say, that all these various specimens
were arranged in diversified ornamental shapes and forms of sun, moon,
star, and crescent, that fancy could conceive or taste execute.
Here Sir Patricius again proposed to the Captain to accompany him in a
ramble to view the grounds; to which Captain Heaviside readily and
gladly assented. As they stood upon the terrace, Sir Patricius said, "My
worthy Sir, just as you had arrived I was upon this spot, thinking with
what taste and judgment my very excellent patron--
(_O et præsidium et dulce decus meum!_)
has so much improved and adorned these lawns, when, Captain, I can well
remember what they were. Great natural capabilities, no doubt, presented
them-selves, and His Grace has acted upon them with spirit, taste, and
judgment, and withal no expense has been spared. However highly meriting
the meed of praise, which doubtless His Grace so well is entitled to, I
was just thinking of the great Archimedes, who so sagely and
appropriately said,
DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!
And I----"
"I must beg a thousand pardons, most gallant, illustrate, and learned
Sir Patricius," said Captain Heaviside, interrupting the Baronet, "but,
under favour, my good Sir, I do not in verity understand one word of
_Hebrew_; no, nor any of these nostrums; albeit I have little doubt that
Archimedes the great was, in good sooth, a most famous and skilful
physician and gifted leech in his celebrated day."[11]
[11] The reader will have the candour to recollect that this can
mean no disparagement to the military profession.--This was said
when knowledge was limited to the few--one hundred and forty years
ago.
"Nay, Captain Heaviside, I cry nay. Mark me, he was a geometrician and
astronomer, and very celebrated as both! The passage which I have put
into the mouth of the renowned philosopher of Syracuse is Greek; and if
I may be indeed permitted to pique myself upon any kind of erudition,
(although, perhaps, in modesty I might say, _Vix ea nostra voco_), I
should then pride myself upon a knowledge of the Greek tongue; and
moreover too, the proper pronunciation and due intonation of voice, what
Horace so sonorously and emphatically calls the _ore rotundo Græcorum_.
Indeed I do flatter myself that I speak the best Greek beyond any other
person in the island!"
"Oh, come, no disparagement, good Sir Patricius! to all your learned
acquirements; you excel in speech, and no doubt succeed as well in the
gift and exercise of your pen! but I, Sir, the hapless child of wayward
fortune, am only acquainted with _this_! [half drawing his sword from
its scabbard.] On this simple stake rest all my fortune and my hope,
which, while I have a hand to wield, shall be held forth in the defence
of my king and country!"
"Well said, i' faith, my master! and spoken nobly, like a brave and
honest soldier! Ay, to be sure, Sir! _every man in his vocation, Hal!_
as the inimitable Shakespeare sagely saith; although, nevertheless, a
little knowledge methinks, after all, to the tune of the old proverb, is
in sooth no great burden! But come, presto! we shall change the topic
and the scene. The day beams forth its vernal glow beneath a brilliant
sky, and the melodious strains of the feathered songsters, vying in
harmonious notes, invite us abroad. Come, we have stayed too long."
Thus at last the learned physician and the preux chevalier sallied forth
to behold the varied and noble domains of the illustrious proprietor.
The lawns, shrubberies, walks, gardens, &c., were all kept with the
greatest possible care and neatness. Several artificial lakes fed by a
living stream, and of great extent, so as to seem as if placed there by
the hand of nature, wound along beneath the shadow of ancient groves,
and fully diversified the scene. The lawns and parks were smooth and
verdant as a bowling-green from the frequent pressure of the roller.
While the walks, parterres, and terraces, were so trimly kept that not a
fallen leaf was to be seen; which order and regularity was placed to the
account and agency of several old females, habited as witches, whose
brooms, ever on the alert, kept all in due and perfect neatness. Part of
the grounds which adjoined the castle were laid out in that
old-fashioned style which we confess we are antediluvian enough to
admire; however, be it known that no tree, shrub, nor ever-green,
whatever, was clipt and mutilated by the shears to shrink into the
abortioned form and pressure of a wizard's broom, or a true-lover's
knot! no pyramid of clipped beech, no cypress-tree which assumed the
fantastic form of Cleopatra's needle. No: nor did shivering Adam and
Eve, and the cold clammy serpent and "forbidden tree," astound the
spectator in shorn yew; no fountain impotently attempted to spring
upward in boxwood; no such puerilities were tolerated to disfigure by
grotesqueness the scenery of nature. So far on the contrary, that every
thing was in good taste--at least it was so at the distant time of which
now we write. The grounds were laid out in what would now be called the
improved English taste: here lawns of richest verdure, and cultivated to
the highest degree of luxuriance; there wild rocks of granite or
limestone, as placed by the hand of nature, trailed and festooned around
with lichen grey and ivy green; while the _Osmunda regalis_, the royal
fern, spreading wide its majestic plumes, and undulating in the breeze,
gracefully waved and bent over the apex of these romantic rocks, and
gave a pleasure to the eye that scenes of nature only can bestow. The
terraces which surrounded the castle were kept gravelled and rolled to
the extreme of neatness, and were hedged with luxuriant myrtle. The
_now_ old-fashioned ponds, which it would have been little less than
sacrilege to remove, reposed beneath the terraces, which gave a tone of
grandeur to the whole; _jets d'eau_ sprung from the centre of these to
an elevated height, and over the head of many a triton and river deity;
while the waters, as the declination of the ground permitted, bursting
forth at once the bonds of artificial force, they
"From large cascades in pleasing tumult roll'd,
Or rose from figured stone,"
brightly spreading and sparkling beneath a brilliant sun. It must,
however, be admitted, that it was somewhat chilling, even in the merry
month of May, to behold the shivering deities who presented them-selves
in cold tangible marble _sans chemisè_, _sans robè_, _et sans drapè_,
while they sentinelled the verdant banks of pond, lake, or canal; and
which, in some degree to qualify our praise, we are ready and free to
admit were after all somewhat _selon le ecole d'Hollandè_!
Here suddenly a vernal shower coming on, the Doctor and Captain, at no
great distance from the castle, were glad to make a race to avoid a
wetting; and before their dress could receive any damage they entered
the castle-hall, having luckily accomplished their object. Sir Patricius
now proposed to show to Captain Heaviside the Duke's great gallery of
paintings, _pour passer le temps_ until the hour appointed for the
baptismal ceremony should arrive.
Just at this moment the Duchess of Tyrconnel drove up in her equipage to
the castle door. It was a low demesne cabriole, drawn by two small
ponies, and driven by a postillion; in it was seated the Duchess, Mrs.
Judith Braingwain, the nurse, and in her arms the lovely child, the Lady
Adelaide. Sir Patricius hastened forth to hand them from the vehicle,
and the Duchess most graciously saluted both her guests, the little
Adelaide sweetly smiled, and the Duchess with all due courtesy retired.
"There she goes--there goes Her Grace," said Sir Patricius; "that highly
intellectual lady; the _rara avis_--the black swan of literature of this
our day--my right noble patroness; shining amid her compeers a bright
star of intellectual, and literary, and domestic worth, and rich indeed
in all,
'Velut inter ignes
Luna minores.'"
Captain Heaviside here rejoined--"Although, Sir Patricius, I knew well
that the Duchess gave with her noble hand a distinguished fortune to the
Duke, yet verily I did not until now learn that Her Grace had any estate
in the _Minories_!"
"No, no; ha, ha!" said Sir Patricius, with a most self-applauding laugh.
"Oh no! nor in the _Stannaries_ neither. But _allons nous donc, mon
preux chevalier_! Apollo and the muses now invite us.--So, ho! to the
picture gallery." To which the learned Theban and the valiant Captain
now hastily ascended.
The grand picture gallery, which now they entered, was of truly
magnificent dimensions, and lighted from an elevated dome. This truly
splendid collection of paintings was most judiciously arranged on the
walls of the superb gallery, collected and selected with a taste and
discernment that spoke volumes in praise of the liberality of the
distinguished collector. This splendid gallery was adorned with the
_chefs d'ouvres_ of the most ancient celebrated masters; forming, on
entrance, a truly grand and most imposing _coup d'oeil_ of the
different works of Reubens', "the prince of painters;" Raphael, "the
divine!" Angelo, Guido, Titian, with a long and noble extended _et
cetera_, too magnificently formidable to be here introduced.
The first painting which they approached was from the pencil of Teniers;
it was that of his famous _Alchymist_.
"This," said Sir Patricius, pointing to the painting, "is a work of
Teniers!"
"Vastly fine, indeed, Sir Patricius!--Oh, monstrous fine! grand,
expressively sublime! eh! But here," added the surprised Captain, "what,
_ten years_!--was the patient artist employed ten years thereon?
Monstrous length of time! what sad solemn patience and perseverance the
fellow had to be sure!--tedious faith, as the old siege of Troy!"
"No, no, my very good Captain, I did not say that the renowned artist
was _ten years_ employed in accomplishing this fine painting, but merely
announced that his distinguished name was Teniers."
"Oh, a thousand pardons, Sir Patricius!--eh--_ten_ thousand pardons! But
then the painting is truly monstrous fine!--upon my s--l it is vastly
fine indeed--eh!"
The next painting which they approached was the famous painting of
Europa carried off by Jupiter in the shape of a bull, from the
distinguished pencil of the celebrated Claude Lorraine.
"The painter who has produced that truly ennobled specimen of his divine
art," said Sir Patricius, with great pomp and emphasis, save when he
was interrupted by a constitutional cough, "the painter, hem, hem, hem,
was, Sir Captain, let me tell to you, inimitable! He deeply studied
nature, and hence he acquired that elevated _gústo_, which has justly
stamped a superlative value upon all his masterly works; his truly
lovely landscapes, glowing with Italian suns, and with Italian verdure,
_Italia diis sacra_, hem, hem, hem! Yes, bold Sir, upon these he acted,
and on the noble inspirations of nature! verifying on glowing canvass
the most apposite and veritable saying of the great and learned
Archimedes,
'DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!'
That, brave Sir, means--'Give me a point to stand upon;' and Sir, aye
Sir, I shall move '_the great globe itself; yea, and all that it
inhabit!_'--That, Sir, is a Claude!"
"Heaven and earth!--_clawed!_ What do I hear," said the astonished
Captain, in a most lachrymal tone; "_clawed!_--what a thousand pities!
irreparable--hopelessly irreparable! Indeed I always knew too well that
cats were most destructive, malicious animals. But say what inducing
cause--what motive? here was depicted no lively representation of rat,
rabbit, pigeon--no, nor mouse! wonderful! 'Fore Jove I swear, that all
the confounded pestilential breed of cats in the county should swing
before I should endure to have such a noble painting as that _clawed_ by
any cat o' the mountain in the province!"
Here Sir Patricius Placebo raised his intelligent eyes in dumb despair,
very nearly indeed allied to positive contempt. But after a short
momentary gaze of astonishment, and a slight expression of contempt, his
muscles relaxed into a cheering smile; and seeing from the window, as he
looked out, some of the guests to arrive, he gaily said--"I see clearly,
Captain Heaviside, that you prefer living faces to their mute
representation on canvass, so let us adjourn, _si vous voulez_, and
attend the ladies; and egad I think I can show you some fine girls;
there, Captain, you see are some fair specimens, the six Misses
O'Carrol, and all dressed so gay in pink, blue, and crimson, smiling
and blooming like a bed of budding pæonies in June!"
"Vastly koind, good Sir Patricius; vastly koind, _j'irai la sans
failler_, eh?--Yes I do admire pretty girls exceedingly; and I must say,
by Jove, that I prefer them to all your _Hebes_, _Cupids_, and
_Ganymedes_, on copper, canvass, or panel!"
The chimes of the bells of the ducal chapel now gave warning note that
the baptismal ceremony was nigh at hand, and all the guests consequently
approached the sacred edifice. And at the high altar, gorgeously
decorated, from a golden ewer the ceremony of ablution was performed.
When the lovely Adelaide received the sprinkling she smiled most
sweetly; and as her nurse, Mrs. Judith Braingwain, (whom we shall hear
more of anon,) afterwards very appropriately told it: "Heaven bless the
dear bonnie babe, how sweetly it was she smiled bekase she was made a
Christian cratur!"
The ceremony concluded upon the return of the noble party to the castle.
Cake, caudle, and wine, and various confectionary, were dealt out with
no sparing hand. Many of the company sat down to different card-tables,
and played, as was then the fashion, at ombre, cribbage, loo, _jusquè a
díner_, when they were entertained at a most princely and magnificent
banquet.
The Duke of Tyrconnel received all his guests with frank and due welcome
and courtesy. His Grace was attired in the following costume:--a large
well powdered peruke, which freely flowed over the splendid mantle and
robes of the order of the garter. His Grace also wore the magnificent
collar and gem, and resplendent star, of the illustrious order. His
stockings were of light blue coloured silk, and drawn up in a fashion
similar to those of Sir Patricius Placebo; and around the left leg,
beneath the knee, was buckled the embroidered and mottoed garter, which
pertains to, and from which this distinguished order receives its
appellation. The stockings were adorned "with quirks and clokes about
the ancles" of gold withal, and curiously and richly wrought.
The Duke of Tyrconnel was considered as the handsomest man of the age,
and upon this occasion looked uncommonly well, every inch the nobleman.
Lord Glandarrah was attired in the magnificent robes of the order of the
Bath. All the guests, of both sexes were splendidly arrayed, and the
entertainment passed off with undiminished eclat.
But we have already exceeded our limits, and have yet to speak of the
highly gifted Duchess, who indeed deserves a chapter to be appropriated
to herself, to which we shall now proceed, and to the acquaintance of
other persons, matters, and things, connected with this our delectable
history.
CHAPTER III.
Hæc mulier, genere atque forma, preterea viro atque liberis,
satis fortunata fuit: litteris Græcis et Latinis docta, * *
* * prorsus multæ facetiæ multusque lepos inerat.
SALLUST.
The noble guests sat long and cheerfully to celebrate with due honour
the baptismal day; while potations of claret, liberally flowing, and
constantly renovated from _magnum_ bottles, according to the approved
custom and social fellowship and habit of the times, were deep and
frequent.[12] The splendid supper which followed the sumptuous dinner
was accompanied with the unqualified commendations of Sir Patricius, who
insisted "that it even excelled the Roman banquets of Lucullus or
Apicius; and was in sooth so luxurious, that, verily, his old friend
Flaccus would have called it a _dubia coena_; and although they had
neither the juice of the Tuscan nor Falernian grape, they had still
nobler potations to quaff!" And it has been currently reported that his
actions sagely comported, _pari passu_, with his asseverations, that he
"suited the action to the word," and did most ample, nay summary
justice, to testify beyond all possible contradiction how highly his
palate lauded the excellence of the entertainment! All this was
confidently and cautiously whispered, and discreetly intrusted to a
chosen few. But it met with the fate usually attendant upon all such
confidential communications, _videlicet_, to be made known and published
in a few hours to the unselected many; or in other words, to all the
king's liege subjects throughout the vicinity!
[12] This fondness for drinking is noticed in Lord Strafford's
Letters.--"In Ireland, where drinking was grown a disease
epidemical."--_Appendix to Lord Strafford's Letters_, vol. II. p.
433.
The supper was served at ten o'clock; an hour which was considered at
that period as late, and was prolonged still later, while jest and joke,
and revelry, and song, and glee, and glass went round; and at a
protracted hour the guests retired to repose; and thus terminated the
social hilarities of the festive night.
The Duchess rose upon the following day at an early hour, as invariably
was her custom, and having retired to her classical cabinet, opened the
latticed casement to admit the enlivening rays of a brilliant vernal
sun, and to inhale the balmy breeze of the morning. It was truly a
beauteous spring morning; the Eske rolled rapidly over his stony
channel, pouring forth his tributary torrent into the peaceful bosom of
the Atlantic Sea; while with mournful plaint the wood-quest called her
mate, perched on her favourite sycamore; and the red-breast and linnet
sweetly warbled forth their matin-hymn from bush and spray,
"To gratulate the sweet return of morn."
The Duchess of Tyrconnel was indeed an extraordinary woman, highly
gifted by nature, instructed by education, (in these days, certainly an
unusual occurrence), and still more learned from her own assiduity and
perseverance. All this was the more remarkable, when we pause to
consider the period in which she lived! The vast powers of her mind were
demonstrated by the universality of her knowledge, the various
accomplishments which she possessed, her acquaintance, even to a
colloquial knowledge, with several different languages, the numerous
acquirements, in all of which she excelled. No less distinguished was
the Duchess of Tyrconnel for her singular modesty, her unaffected
manners, and that retiring grace, at once characteristic of those high
endowments which flung around her such imposing charms. Indeed it has
generally been remarked and acknowledged, that affectation and conceit
are seldom found to be connected with genius, but are the satellites of
those who would usurp her throne; and that the never-failing attendant
upon true genius is simplicity of manners.
The Duchess had been educated at the convent of Vernon sur le Seinè,
where she was wont
"To walk the studious cloisters pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antic pillars massy proof,
And storied windows, richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light."
Here, during her novitiate, the Duchess (then Lady Katherine O'Nial)
formed a friendship with a young lady, an inmate at the convent, which
terminated only in death. The friend of her youth was the beautiful Lady
Adelaide Alençon, daughter of the Duke of Alençon. They became dear and
inseparable friends, from similarity of taste and talent. The _idem
velle_--the _idem nolle_--was theirs! The same, or nearly the same,
distinguished talents, a similar and uncontrollable wish for
information, led them on in the paths of science and of literature, of
virtue and of religion. Then, oh! how delightful it was, after a short
sojourn with their friends, again to return to the sacred convent, and
to hear at early morn the solemn anthem from the hallowed choir, which
pealed over rock and flood, deeply re-echoed by the convent walls: or if
at eve they returned, to hear floating upon the silent and slumbering
bosom of the Seinè the sad and solemn evening vesper, which was wafted
to the skies!
But this pure and disinterested friendship was doomed to be only of
short duration. Lady Adelaide Alençon's powers of mind were superior to
the fragile tenement they illuminated and adorned, and over-studiousness
brought on a consumption, which unfortunately was a hereditary disease.
The physicians ordered the patient to remove to Tours, from thence to
the aromatic isles of the Heyères. But, alas! it was all in vain! The
promises at first were fair, like expanding snow-drops on the cold
breast of spring, which blow--then bloom--then die! But each sad
succeeding account only brought fresh accession of regret; and at an
early age, in the ever-blooming green islands of the Heyères, the lovely
and the gifted Lady Adelaide Alençon drooped, and pined, and died!
deeply deplored by all her relatives, and justly and duly lamented by
her friends.
"The hectic form, the beauteous maid,
That just as life its charms displayed,
To death devoted, glides away;
With brilliant eye, that watery gleams,
While still the rosy spectre dreams
Of many a morrow gay."
Upon the deeply regretted event of Lady Adelaide Alençon's death, the
Duchess made a vow that if she married, her first female child should be
called after her first regarded, her early and lamented friend; and to
this cause our heroine was indebted for the illustrious name which she
bore.
The Duchess, even during her juvenile abode at the convent of Vernon
sur le Seinè, had manifested much talent and infinite taste, and at that
early period had displayed an extraordinary degree of ingenuity and
delicacy of tact; she cut paper into an innumerable variety of figures,
characters, and landscapes, solely dictated by her own genius, and
executed with much taste and spirit. Her Grace also drew in crayons,
flowers that were so naturally depicted, that they seemed to have been
recently culled from the garden. She was conversant, besides, with vocal
and instrumental music; and, moreover, displayed much skill in
oil-painting and in sculpture: indeed her talents seemed to rival those
of that noble and distinguished lady, Anne-Maria Schurman.[13] A
proficient too in etching. Her writing in various languages was
inimitable. She was also perfect mistress of the Greek and Latin
languages, and understood and spoke with facility French, Italian, and
German; and no less excelling in the sciences of geography, astronomy,
and philosophy, with many other rare acquirements, which we shall pass
by unnoticed, as we do not choose to classify this gifted lady with the
heroines of romance. Under the guidance and instructions of such a
mother everything was to be hoped for, if not realized, in the education
of an only and beloved daughter--her first-born, and possibly her last;
certainly her only one!
[13] For an account of this noble and distinguished lady, see
"_Moreri Dictionnaire Historique_," folio, Paris, 1654, tome VI.
p. 173;--and Descamps, in his "_Vie des Peintres_," &c., tome II.
Paris, 1754, makes the following honourable mention of her:
"Anne-Marie Schurman, les Poëtes Hollandois nomment dans leurs
vers cette fille illustre, leur Sapho et leur Cornelie: si elle a
merité les éloges de ses compatriotes, elle a aussi obtenu les
suffrages des grands et des sçavants de l'Europe," &c.--Tome II.
p. 119.
With all these splendid acquirements, the Duchess was an ardent admirer
of the beauties of nature. She took delight in beholding the sun, with
glorious burst, to ascend and illuminate the lofty mountain-peak; and at
night to behold the starry host of heaven, the moon, and all the
unnumbered stars that gem with imperishable lustre the canopy of the
skies. Even while the morning dew impearled the grass, she was wont to
traverse the verdant lawn, with "daisies pied and violets blue;" all
these charms of rural nature gave delight and indescribable pleasure to
a mind at peace with itself, and in harmony with the tranquil solitude
which surrounded her. Who can doubt, then, that it was with unmixed
contempt that the Duchess looked down upon the green and frivolous field
of a loo, tredille, or cribbage-table, and that even primero had no
charms for her!--a preference at that period very remarkable, and that
completely puzzled all the suppositions and gossipings of the courtly
card-playing dowagers of those courtly days.
However, with all this wild love for nature, and with all those
commanding accomplishments to boot, we cannot, howbeit, deny that the
Duchess was proud of the country which gave her birth, and pardie proud
perhaps too of her own ennobled descent; although we must observe that,
with due discretion, she was never known to dwell upon the latter, while
upon the former, conversant as she was with the aboriginal language of
her country, when time and opportunity offered, she then indulged
herself therein, in learning the wants and the necessities of the lower
orders; and, furthermore, in acquiring a knowledge of the character and
the feelings of the native Irish, with which the more she became
acquainted, the still more she became endeared.
While thus we have been endeavouring to delineate the mind and
acquirements of the Duchess of Tyrconnel, we must, however, not silently
pass by her remarkable costume, for this is strictly in unison with the
history of those times; and it must be confessed that it was
sufficiently _outrè_ and extraordinary. Her Grace's head-dress, or
head-gear, was strangely elevated, indeed we might say castellated, upon
the stiff, formal, and firm foundation of an internal satin cushion, on
bastion of silk, surmounted by a natural coronal of fine auburn hair; so
that she might have been mistaken for Cybele, the mother of the gods;
and like the goddess too, she was crowned with the model of a citadel.
The hair was raised with such force, that it appeared from the process
to be nearly starting from the roots. A double tier of curls formidably
flanked and circled round this superstructure, on which were arranged
three magnificent rows of eastern pearls, while above was placed a
costly coif or cap of superb Brussels lace, bordered with Mechlin. Large
pendant diamond rings sparkled in each ear; a superb brilliant necklace
glittered on her bosom; her kerchief was of the richest Poyntz lace; her
jacket or bodice was short, formed with close sleeves, and made of light
blue Spanish cloth, adorned with longitudinal stripes of gold. This
bodice was fastened at the breast, so as to form a most splendid
stomacher, by means of two parallel superb rows of large brilliant
diamond buttons, which were interlaced by crimson ribbons, enclosing it
in front. The sleeves were of deep crimson velvet, trimmed with rich
gold net-work. The petticoat was of rich blue velvet, festooned by
golden cords and tassels, and richly trimmed with a border of deep gold
net-work. The petticoat, it must needs be confessed, was distended to a
disfiguring circumference, swelled out by the unseemly and uncouth
bell-hoop, which was then the appanage to a lady's full dress, and still
further increased by long peaked stays, which gave a most Dutch-like and
awkward solemnity, if not an armorial stiffness of carriage, to the
wearer.
Her Grace's shoes were of red Morocco leather, with high tapering
heels, so elevated as to form with the sole the outlines of an arch; and
the colour, to contrast with the red upper leather, was blue. The shoes
were tastefully stitched and worked in a pattern of gold-thread work,
and fastened with diamond clasps. The hose were of light blue silk,
ornamented with clokes of gold.[14]
[14] There is another item of Her Grace's dress which is not
noticed above, as it was only used on occasions of going abroad to
visit, or when on horseback; we speak of a velvet mask, worn by
ladies of rank at this period, and for which a high duty was
imposed upon their being imported from France.
Upon the festival of the previous day the Duchess was thus attired as we
have endeavoured to describe her state dress; her beautifully formed
hands and fingers were adorned with bracelets and rings set with "gems
both rich and rare;" while her animated countenance, and still more
brilliant eyes, and affable manners, spread joy and delight around the
festive circle which she graced and adorned.
We must here by no means whatever pass over an important character in
the _dramatis personæ_ of our history, (at least so she was in her own
personal estimation), and forsooth be it known too, moreover, a highly
privileged person. We here venture to speak of Lady Adelaide's nurse,
Mistress Judith Braingwain, who was in every respect most truly Irish.
Her superstitions were deeply rooted, so that nothing could shake them;
and her belief in ghosts, wraiths, banshees, and fairies, and all that
was marvellous, was truly orthodox. She believed in astrology, then much
in vogue; in dreams, omens, prognostications, and
"Chimeras all, still more absurd or less,"
and all the attendant phantasmagoria of credulity. Mrs. Judith's
attachment to her country was great and strong, as likewise was her
affection for her child; but her whole stock of fondness seemed to be
concentrated in her foster child, whom she actually loved better than
the child she had borne in her own maternal bosom. "My dear, dear child,
my darling," she would say, "oh, my Adelaide! may the sun-shine and
peace of this world ever be thine _mavourneen_!" [i.e. my beloved.]
Mrs. Judith's dress[15] was so perfectly and truly aboriginal, that it
may amuse the reader, and possibly afford a reminiscence to the
antiquary, while we notice it in the following description.
[15] See Cooper Walker's able Essay on Irish Dresses.
The curious specimen of Irish costume worn by persons in Mrs. Judith
Braingwain's station in life, prevailed in Ireland at the close of the
reign of the second Charles, and during the reign of his successor,
James II., the patron and friend of the Duke of Tyrconnel. It was as
follows:--
Mrs. Judith wore placed upon her head-top a cushion of linen or stuff,
which she called her "system;" it was not dissimilar, save in its want
of utility, to the roll or plait twisted cushion of hay used by
milk-maids in carrying their pails; but with this difference, that it
was not flat, but rose higher to the back of the head; it was fastened
and attached by long pins, and over and around this under-structure she
combed and attached her long hair, of which the Irish were always proud,
even to absurdity, and which withal looked as stiff and formal as if it
had been hewn out, the work of some primeval statuary, sternly staring
in stone, certainly most Medusa-like, upon some ancient tomb! This most
strange redoubt or fortification of hair-work was supported by a
side-battery of two curls on each side of the head above the ears, and
masked on high by a little round cap or coif, surrounded with a cambric
border, over which was thrown a kerchief, which being made fast upon the
apex of the head, was allowed to fall down carelessly behind, where it
streamed, when she walked abroad, like a banner over a fortress. Her
jacket was of brown cloth, and made to fit close to the shape, by means
of whalebone scientifically, as now we would say, wrought into it both
in front and at the back, but managed so as not to meet; while it was
laced in the front across the breast, forming there a stomacher, and
evidently borrowed from the Spanish costume. The sleeves, halfway to the
elbow, were constructed of the same kind of cloth as the jacket, and
from thence they continued to the wrist, formed of longitudinal stripes
of red camlet, interwoven with green ferreting, and then being turned
up, formed a little cuff, embraced within three circles of narrow green
ribbon. Her petticoat was formed of scarlet broad-cloth, bordered with
three rows of green ribbon. Her apron was of green serge, striped
longitudinally with scarlet ferreting, and bound with the same. Her hose
were of blue worsted; and her shoes were of black leather, laced with
scarlet galloon, and ankle high, and withal mounted upon heels of a most
portentous height. But _eheu! jam satis_, we are glad to have done with
this specimen of costume, of which we are not over fond; but writing of
the history, &c. of the times, from such we found it to be our bounden
duty not to depart or swerve one single iota.
The Duchess allowed to nurse Braingwain very extensive liberties, and
latitude of converse too, induced by the affectionate, nay, almost more
than motherly care which she bestowed upon her child; as well as amused
withal, she permitted nurse occasionally to show off that strange
originality which she possessed.
The Duchess having gone through her morning devotions, ascended the
nursery to embrace her dear child, who was sweetly and serenely
reposing.
"See, my honoured lady, how sweetly _mavourneen_ sleeps! Och, and may be
I didn't dream last night that my dear young princess was one day to be
queen of auld Ireland; and in troth, in my dream, sure enough I saw, not
a crownet, but a royal crown placed upon her sweet baby brow. But as for
you, my lady Duchess, I moreover drimt that Your Grace was created
_Impress of Europa_--and long, long, my lady Impress, may you live and
reign over us, and over all the world besides! Musha amen, says a
grateful heart!"
"Prithee, Nurse, be silent; you will awake my child with your
nonsensical rodomontade!"
Just here a message arrived from the Duke, that he wished to speak with
Her Grace in his closet. The Duchess immediately left the nursery, in
obedience to the ducal summons.
The Duke took the Duchess by the hand: "Here's great news, my Kate!
Charles is dead, and the noble York that was, is now monarch of England;
and permit me to kiss the fair and lady-like hand of the vice-queen of
Ireland," he said, gaily kissing Her Grace's hand.
"Why, my Lord Duke, I really believe that you have laid this scheme of
cajolery with so very great a personage as the very high and mighty
lady, Mrs. Judith Braingwain, who even just now saluted me with the _all
hail hereafter_! of Macbeth's witches: for Duchess of Tyrconnel though I
be, yet Empress of Europe I _am to be_, or "Impress of Europa," as I was
styled. What think you of that, my Lord? Surely I must feel quite
shocked and horrified, as you must well conceive, at this dreadful and
unexpected downfall from my high imperial state! Only think,
at once too, without meet preparation, to be deprived of the diadem
which fancy was fitting upon my brow, and _only_ to be dubbed vice-queen
of Ireland; oh! my Lord, you must needs confess what a provoking falling
off was here! But no; it will not do; I am resolved that I must be
empress, or only simple plain duchess!"
"Now Katherine you think I am rallying, but no such thing, I seriously
assure you a patent has arrived, constituting and appointing me, and so
forth, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland! And now, fair lady, I must kiss the
hands of the vice-queen of Ireland, according to the statute in that
case made and provided." And having thus gaily spoken, he affectionately
and tenderly embraced his Duchess.
"Well then it appears quite a hopeless case, your patent has arrived;
_you not only achieve greatness yourself, but likewise have greatness
thrust upon you_, as Malvolio says; so I suppose that you must have even
the grace to submit, and entrap yourself forth-with in the harness of
office. As for my part, I shall sigh for the charms of the dear country,
and would rather wear a simple coronal of hawthorn-blossoms than a
diadem studded with resplendent gems, and "the rich east to boot;" and
I, my Lord, warn you, for you must prepare to hear ejaculations from the
towers of Dublin castle somewhat to the tune and measure of--_O rus
quando ego te aspiciam?_ Then you, my Lord, with your high waving plumed
crest of chivalry come rushing up to the turret, fancying that you are
most heroically about to liberate some captive dame, or forlorn
princess, who has been cruelly incarcerated by some old cruel-hearted
necromancer, when I shall fly into your arms, forgetting pomp and power,
and even the divine country too; I will rush into your bosom, and only
remember that I am your wife--_the wife of Tyrconnel_!"
"Bravo, bravo, _viva, viva, sémpre l'imperatrice_!" exclaimed the Duke
in rapture. "Yes, dearest Katherine, you are the empress of my heart,
and need never, never fear a rival near the throne: come then to my
arms, and with your simple diadem of hawthorn I shall ever adore you, in
cottage or in palace!"
The Duke was a Major-General in the army, he had served under the
banner of the illustrious Turenne, and his royal patron the Duke of
York, now James II., had also fought beneath the same victorious
standard. The Duke was considered the handsomest man of the age, and was
beloved alike in camp and in court. His knowledge and attainments were
great; he was not only _aliquis in omnibus_, but also _singularis in
omnibus_. He was indeed--
"A courtier of the chamber,
A soldier of the field;
Whose tongue could never flatter,
Whose heart could never yield!"
The Duke's two sisters, Lady Letitia and Lady Lucy Raymond, who
constantly resided with him, affectionately approached to congratulate
their brother upon his appointment to the viceroyship. "Oh joy, dearest
brother!" they both exclaimed, while each at the same moment kissed the
Duke's cheeks.
Lady Lucy had been educated abroad, and was always speaking in warmest
raptures of "the dear continent," or of whatever was foreign, or
_recherché_. Indeed her friends were obliged to admit that it was a vast
pity that Lady Lucy, with all her amiable qualities, should be somewhat
a little tinctured with conceit; and apprehended, that as it had been of
long continuance they feared it was too late to be remedied, her
affectation having become something very like second nature. Thus argued
her kind, consoling friends, who sat down most contentedly beneath the
shade of their own sage conclusions.
Lady Lucy continued her expressions of joy in a sort of soliloquy: "Oh
really this will be quite deloightful! quite _imposé_! surpassingly
deloightful! Why actually we shall hold a little court of St. Germains
at Dublin castle!"
Lady Letitia during her infancy had been a sickly child, and, in
consequence of her inability to travel, had remained at home; while her
family were sometime resident abroad, and her education was wholly
unattended to; or to speak more explicitly, was never once thought of as
a matter of the slightest concern--no uncommon occurrence in the olden
time. This deficiency at this period was not confined to two or three
noble families;--nay, gentle reader, start not, for thou wilt please to
recollect that we are speaking of what happened above one hundred and
forty years ago. In consequence of this neglect Lady Letitia made such
broad and palpable mistakes, and of so extraordinary a kind, as could
not of failed to have beaten that modern personage, Mrs. Malaprop, of
blundering notoriety, completely defeated from the field.
"No, Lucy, no!" rejoined Lady Letitia, "No, nothing _German_; neither
caps nor boots, rats, whiskers, nor muskatoes. I hate every thing
German; no, our court shall not be a German one, but a second St.
James's. And old Cormac shall compose such a grand ode upon the solemn
occasion, to be said or sung in the old hall at Dublin castle; aye, and
we shall have duly chanted for my dear brother such a noble hypothesis
as ear never----"
"Apotheosis, you mean, Letitia," said the Duke, interrupting her. "Yes,
indeed, _that_ would be a _solemn occasion_; but I pray you be not in
such mighty haste to send me so soon 'unanointed, unanealed,' to the
other world before my time too; this is not altogether so kind, sister;
and besides, previous to the possession of the honours which you would
somewhat too prematurely celebrate.----But a truce to this badinage; I
must forth-with prepare for my journey to take possession of the
government of Barataria!"
Sir Patricius Placebo now advanced to join and congratulate the family
circle, and to express his joy upon the Duke's appointment. "My Lord
Duke in verity believe me, that this day there exists none whose
feelings and whose heart are more truly gratified by this gracious
selection of my sovereign than what mine are; and I also must
congratulate your Grace's friends, and the country too, at the happy
choice which king James has made. And I further beg to say, with meet
reason, and under due discretion and correction, that you confer more
honour upon the king by your acceptance of it, than His Majesty has done
you by the presentation. Yea, and I may truly and fearlessly add, in the
words of old Flaccus,
"Cum tot sustineas et tanta negotia solus,
* * * * *
* * in publica commoda peccem
Si longo sermone morer tua tempora----"
Just at the moment that the words of old Flaccus were flowing forth
from the tongue of the obsequious Baronet, in a mellifluent Cork or
Kerry brogue, the butler entered the drawing-room, and announced, to the
great delight of Sir Patricius, that "dinner was served." The Duke,
drawing the arm of the Duchess beneath his own, for a moment stopped,
and said playfully--"See, my good Sir Patricius, how opportunely Mercury
pops in to clip the wings of Pegasus, and announce that the banquet of
the gods is ready; and now to our repast with all the appetite we may!"
Sir Patricius bowed, and handing the ladies Letitia and Lucy, followed
to the dinner-room, solemnly muttering to himself,
DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!
while stately he moved along with an increased stride and attitude of
dignity.
CHAPTER IV.
Por cierto, Senör Gobernador * * * * que vuesa merced tiene mucha
razon en quanto ha dicho: y que yo ofrezco en nombre de todos los
insulanos desta insula, que han de servir á vuesa merced con toda
puntualidad, amor y benevolencia, porque el suave modo gobenar que
en estos principios vuesa merced ha dado, no les da lugar de
hacer, ni de pensar cosa que en deservicio de vuesa merced
redunde.
DON QUIXOTE, tome IV.
TRANSLATION.
Doubtless, Sir Governor * * * * you have much reason in all you
have been pleased to say: and let me promise you, in behalf of all
the inhabitants of this island, that they shall serve your will
and pleasure with all due diligence, love, and good-will; for the
sweet and mild mode of government that hitherto in the beginning
you have administered to them, causes them neither to do, nor even
to think, aught that may redound disloyal to your government.
DON QUIXOTE, vol. IV.
Before the Duke had arisen upon the ensuing morning the Duchess thus
addressed him, and pronounced, if we may so express it, the
curtain-lecture, with which the reader is here made acquainted:--
"My dear and much beloved Lord, you are now about to assume the
government of your native island, a land richly abundant in agricultural
and commercial resources, possessing a peasantry inured to toil, hardy,
industrious, and intelligent; keenly alive to and sensible of wrong and
injustice, yet still a passive and a patient people, who, like the Roman
ox, stand ready victims, stationed between the ploughshare and the
altar, alike prepared for the yoke or for sacrifice!--a soil luxuriant
for tillage or for pasture, abounding in quarries, mines, and minerals;
blest with a mild and temperate climate, and adorned with scenery
picturesque, romantic, and sublime; with mountains high as the lofty
spirit of the race who inhabit them, and with harbours (open as their
generous hearts) expanding their numerous emporiums to receive the
tribute of every coast and every clime.
"Remember, I pray thee, my good Lord, a passage which once we read,
and that I never can forget; we found it in the Lives of Plutarch, where
we are told the courtiers of Philip of Macedon essayed to mount and
master the noble animal Bucephalus, afterwards the war-horse of the
great and renowned Alexander. Courtier succeeding courtier attempted to
mount the back of Bucephalus, but in vain. They knew, indeed, how to
cringe, and fawn, and flatter in a despot's court, but they were wholly
ignorant and incompetent how to manage this nobly spirited war-horse;
their shadows, as they successively attempted to mount, startled the
steed, and they could make nothing of it. It was then that the son of
Ammon sprang forth, and said, 'Father, give him into my hands; I see the
noble bearing of the proud and generous animal, let me too, therefore,
have a trial!' The request was granted. When Alexander, leading him into
the shade where the steed neither startled by the shadow of his person
nor the flowing of his mantle, Alexander instantly sprung upon his back,
and galloped him several times past the presence of Philip, reining him
with full command, wheeling him round in full career, and then suddenly
halting to address his admiring king and father, and no less astonished
courtiers. At length, overcome with joy and admiration, Philip exclaimed
to Alexander, 'Go, go, my son, and seek to rule over other realms, for
Macedonia is too small for thee!' Yes, my dear Lord, I at once see you
forcibly feel the allusion. In the hands of ignorant, or stupid, or
bigoted governors, and their underlings, Ireland shall ever prove and
remain untractable, as Bucephalus was in the clumsy and untoward hands
of the courtiers of Macedon; but rule the inhabitants of this isle with
gentleness and moderation, with equal and impartial justice, alike
administered to all beneath a mild and conciliatory government, and then
mark how submissively they shall obey their ruler. In peace you shall
see drawn home the heavy harvest team; and on the day of battle our
navies shall ride triumphant, and our armies march victorious!"
The Duke smiled at the conclusion of this lengthened lecture; but he
was truly pleased withal at the judicious remarks, the sound sense, and
also with the enthusiastic feeling of his Duchess; and he said somewhat
gaily, "Bravo! well done, my Katherine. I long knew the extensive range
of your reading and information; but, 'fore Jupiter Ammon, I _certes_
did not know until the present what a famous politician thou hast
become. Thou assuredly hast pronounced a very notable and altisonant
lecture upon legislation, wherewithal from which I fully trust that I
shall ultimately derive much advantage. But yet under favour, lady mine,
my vice-regal _femme covert_, you will peradventure please to carry in
your noble recollection, that I am no sovereign prince or potentate, and
that the _roy le veult_ belongs not to me, but to my royal master; that
simply I am but a deputy, and therefore it is evident that I can have no
will of mine own, but, on the contrary, that every measure must emanate
from the throne. However, it is nevertheless true, that although I owe
much to my regarded sovereign, yet unhappily should this reflected light
of majesty prove to be but mere "disastrous twilight," I have still the
power to resign; and albeit I am not devoid certainly of ambition, yet
there exists not a man who is more attached to retirement than what I
confessedly am;--none, I am sure, more devoted to his country, friends,
family, and home!"
The intention of the Duke of Tyrconnel being fixed to pursue his journey
onward without unnecessary delay, to assume the reins of his vice-regal
government, His Grace and his amiable Duchess descended betimes to the
breakfast saloon. The Duke was in uncommon good spirits, spoke
sportively to his beloved Adelaide. The Ladies Letitia and Lucy soon
made their appearance, and Sir Patricius was not the last to take his
station at the breakfast-table, on which was duly placed every solace
for the regalement of the worthy Baronet, if indeed a salutary morning
walk amid the mountain-air could have rendered his appetite fastidious.
The Duke soon began in a jocular way to rally the Ladies Letitia and
Lucy, by observing, "I propose very soon, gentle ladies, so hearken to
me both, to dispose of you twain by promotion--in the temple of Hymen!
What say ye, ladies fair, to my proposition? Doubtless it will meet with
your joint approval, and most dutiful concurrence to my high and
puissant command!"
Lady Lucy replied, that she had no wish nor intention whatsoever to
alter her situation, feeling perfectly happy and contented as she was,
desirous of no change, and fully resolved, as far as was within her
control, that no cruel _empêchement_ should ever separate her from those
she so dearly regarded and loved.
Lady Letitia said in reply: "As for your _high men_, they are always
sure to have their own high ways in aught perchance they would do or
dare; and I needs must observe that I have no wish whatever to be
connected with such high cavaliers, having, alas! upon a former occasion
experienced much vexation and disappointment at the hands of one of
those said _high men_."
"Prithee, Letitia, explain in what manner," rejoined the Duke.
"You must know, then, that a proposal of marriage was made to me from
one of noble birth, and likewise of affluent fortune, while you, my
Lord, were absent in foreign lands. The gentleman was the Honourable Mr.
Gwillim Ap-Gwillim, of Caper Ap-Shenkin, in North Wales, who was not
slow in using every endeavour to win my love and affections; and, alas!
he succeeded but too well in the accomplishment of his wishes. But after
all, a long courtship and fair promises, this Cambrian proved himself to
be one of your '_perhaps_' knights-errant; and so, my good Lord, no more
of them for poor me! The man, prince, potentate, or peer, who deals in
the shuffling word '_perhaps_,' shall never possess my affection, nor
have my hand in the tie of holy wedlock. Never, I am resolved. No; for
ever I forswear and detest the word, as being the most offensive and
deceitful in the English tongue, past, present, or to come."
"Hold, hold, Letitia," said the Duke, "you are off in full gallop from
your story. Pray rein in thy noble indignation and imagination awhile,
and do let us have the conclusion of your most tragical hero, whom you
stigmatize with the title and appanage of '_perhaps_?'"
"I fairly promised my hand where before I had given my heart; that is to
say, provided you had so approved; and while matters were, as I
conceived, happily arriving, as I had fondly hoped, at the long wished
claracism (_eclaircissement_), who would have suspected or have dreamed
the result?
"'I am told, Sir,' addressing Mr. Gwillim Ap-Gwillim, of Caper
Ap-Shenkin, 'I am told, Sir,' said I, with proud tears in my eyes, 'that
you at present entertain a paramour?'
"'Well, Madam,' rejoined he, 'perhaps' (oh, the abominable word) 'I do;
and if so, it is surely not unusual or marvellous in an unmarried man.'
"'But then, Sir,' I replied, (somewhat enraged at his tawdry 'perhaps',)
'sure before we become man and wife, you will no doubt part with and
discharge this said paramour?'
"'Perhaps,' he rejoined, 'perhaps, (the third time, observe,) Madam, I
may.'
"'_Perhaps_, Sir,' I loudly re-echoed, my blood boiling, my breath
parting, my tongue gasping, and enraged to the very utmost, 'Perhaps,
Sir,' I said vehemently, 'know, my hand never shall be yours--never,
never!' Then with a strong impulse of collected coolness, for very often
what is the most opposite will occur, I distantly retired, with the
utmost indifference I dropt a low court courtesy, and never beheld him
more."
The Duke proposed, previous to departing, to accompany his noble
consort and family in a promenade on the pleasure grounds. Their Graces
led the way; and while apart from the attending group, the Duke
addressed the Duchess in a low voice--"I shall do every thing, depend
upon it, that is within my power, to render my vicegerency popular; not
from a love of popularity, but from the impulse of administering even
and equal justice to all His Majesty's subjects, which is a debt I shall
not fail to discharge, so far as the responsibility of my station
admits, and my duty to the king allows. The salary which I may receive
during my administration shall, to the uttermost farthing, be expended
among the generous people, from whose purses I am to receive it; I shall
assist the poor, and the great I will entertain. Thus when the
termination of my government arrives, I trust that my departure from the
viceregency shall not be mistaken for that of a collector of taxes, who
retires _sub umbra_, having embezzled the public coffers, and who
departs _ex-officio_, attended, justly I admit, with "curses, not loud
but deep!" Oh no, my dearest love, by no earthly possibility shall any
one mistake me for a Jamaica planter, a bullock feeder, or a Jew broker!
Never; my private fortune shall be expended in addition to the princely
income which I receive from the nation; and I am resolved that in every
way it shall be my study, as it will be my pleasure, to prove indeed the
true and appropriate representative of a noble and generous king!"
To this expressive burst of loyal and ardent feeling, the Duchess fully
accorded her hearty assent. While the noble pair remained thus employed
in discussing the high and grave affairs of state, the ladies Letitia
and Lucy, attended by Sir Patricius Placebo and Captain Heaviside, were
employed in admiring the surrounding scenery.
"What a romantic delightful prospect here presents itself to the
spectator," observed Sir Patricius Placebo to Lady Letitia, who stood
next him.
"Oh yes," replied her Ladyship, "it is truly a noble tract of verdant
valley and lofty mountain, scenery, sea, and river; the goats on the
rock, the sheep on the hill, and the cows in the vale; indeed the Duke
positively asserts that the surrounding scene displays perhaps the most
beautiful cow-dell (_coup d'oeil_) in the whole kingdom."
The promenaders returned from their ramble, and were stationed on the
terrace when the Duke's travelling coach and six drove up to the
embattled porch of the castle. The Duke, addressing himself to Sir
Patricius, pleasantly and playfully said: "Sir knight we do hereby, by
the powers in us vested, constitute, nominate, and appoint, with all the
briefness and celerity the occasion demands, you, Sir Patricius Placebo,
M. D. Baronet, _eques non male notus_, our _locum tenens_, and Lord
Constable of this our good castle of Tyrconnel during our absence
herefrom; and thou, Sir Patricius Placebo, art bound, in due accordance
with right, ancient, and laudable usage, to dispense all manner of
ancient hospitality, as if we ourself were in person present; and within
a few given days to escort our beloved partner and family to His
Majesty's castle of Dublin; all which fail not to do, under the pain and
penalty of our heavy displeasure."
The Duke fondly and affectionately embracing his Duchess, his beloved
Adelaide, and his sisters, and cordially shaking hands with his guests,
entered his travelling carriage, which set off, the horses travelling in
a brisk pace, for Dublin, to assume the chief government of the island.
The ladies followed the Duchess, who retired into the castle to regret
even the temporary absence of her lord.
Meanwhile Sir Patricius proposed to Captain Heaviside an excursion on
horseback, to pass away the time _jusquè a dinèr_. After a short
interval Sir Patricius having doffed his grave professional peruke; and
having assumed his hunting wig, mounted his gallant steed, and set out
with the Captain in a ramble through the country. While thus they were
employed in exploring the surrounding scenery, Captain Heaviside,
addressing Sir Patricius, said, "Pray, my good Sir, did I ever repeat to
you my _chronicle_?"
"Oh no, never, Captain, upon my veracity; but in sooth I should be quite
delighted to hear it, so pray let us have it by all manner and means."
"I call it," continued Captain Heaviside, _my_ chronicle, but I must
say, really and truly, that it was never written by me;--positively not
mine, but written indeed by a particular friend."
"Come, come, bold Captain, that is very well, and likewise most sagely
and discreetly expressed; very good indeed--an excellent come off, _cum
grano salis_, hem! It is, however, to be sure, vastly convenient upon
all such occasions to enlist a friend into the service who shall enact
you the part of a poetical godfather, and act too as pioneer: a most
meritorious gentleman truly, who is disposed with such magnanimous
generosity to place all our written sins and verses upon his own
muster-roll. Vastly, egad vastly convenient, I needs must observe,
master Heaviside, hah, hah, hah, _sed, litera scripta manet!_ There is
no getting over that, my gallant young Captain, by my halidam!"
"My good Sir Patricius accredit me, it was really written by my very
excellent friend, Captain Drinkwater, a dashing dragoon."
"I can then flatly tell you, Captain, that it will never do--I know it
will never do; for as friend Horace sings,
'Nulla placere diu nec vivere carmina possunt
Quæ scribuntur aquæ potoribus.'
I hate and detest your _aquæ potoribus_, all your drink-waters, and
your water-drinkers, they are beyond all compare the very worst
description of enemies that our profession has to contend with: so no
more of this; give me your drinkers of _aqua vitæ_, and honest
stout-hearted topers of genuine Drogheda usque-baugh; these are the
generous souls whose quaffing I admire, and whose fees I dearly prize.
But come, my brave Captain, notwithstanding we must positively have your
_chronicle_."
"Well, Sir Patricius, since it must be so, here it is.
CAPTAIN HEAVISIDE'S CHRONICLE,
BEING AN EXCELLENT NEW ANACREONTIC, AND WRITTEN BY
CAPTAIN DRINKWATER OF THE HORSE-GRENADIERS.
Julia first met me with bright sparkling eye;
Next Sally so sober, yet so very sly,
Margery, matchless at grin and grimace;
Then Susan so simple, with innocent face.
Betty was breathless when told of a fray,
And Judy in sooth would have her own way:
Of Nelly 'tis needless ought for to tell,
On ev'ry occasion she bore off the belle.
There was rattling, laughing, roaring young Kate,
Who many did think was perturbed in her pate:
Of Kathlane so cunning, and Mollys a score,
Och, I could sing till I tired you sore.
Let this little sample the truth only tell,
That, ah! I have lov'd too long and too well!"
"_Olet lucernam_, good master Heaviside! methinks it smells somewhat
rather too strong of the lamp. Nay, nay, come noble Captain, I say,
cheer up man! never mind, my brave boy, for in faith I like your
chronicle, master Heaviside, passing well; and the very first open day,
to speak the _vox parliamentaria_, that is to express, that the first
day that the Duke shall dine abroad----hah, hah, which, 'fore Jupiter,
egad he does this very day--aye, good--very good,
DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!
this very day, by my halidam, we shall have it! By the mass he who
gainsays it wets not his lips with a cup of hermitage! Nay more, down
goes my gauntlet; Captain--there is my hand for you! A fig, I say, for
your black rods, your white rods, and your green rods! I would fain
flagellate them all with their own proper _insignia_ of office; aye,
marry, I say, a plague upon them all, master Heaviside! I am a man
somewhat gifted with authority, as you are, Captain, fully aware, being
no less than grand Seneschal of yonder ancient castle; and by the mass,
indubitably, with due and meet discretion, we shall have _viva voce_
this very day your much to be lauded Anacreontic, and that too without a
single repugnant '_perhaps_,' against which vague, dubious, and most
distrustful adverb, that sage and circumspect Lady Letitia doth so
continently and cautiously enter her solemn protest. But my good Sir,
time and place--place and time? methinks as I don't toss off drams in a
morning, that songs sound sweeter heard in the evening. Oh, ever time
and place are to be taken into account, my good Captain, for
DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!
as the venerable Archimedes enforces it--hem; and I shall----But come,
Captain, for once I will give a gratuitous prescription--take my
nostrum--sing, or hear it sang, Captain Harry Heaviside's new Chronicle,
which be sure to wash down with the potation of two honest quarts of old
bottled Chateau-Margut, or good Burgundy, for I am not squeamish, which
shall answer just quite as well;--swallow the dose, charily, charily,
but without shaking the bottle!"
The equestrians soon approached the castle on their return to dinner,
and the first bell was now heard pealing over battlement and tower, duly
giving warning note; hence from a smart trot they hastened to a brisk
gallop.
"Ahem," said Sir Patricius, "see, noble Captain, how strong and lustily
the smoke mounts up from the kitchen chimney, _bonum signum, bonum
signum_, by Bacchus and Ceres a most propitious omen! Ahem, spur on, my
gallant chevalier!"
The two worthies now reached the lordly castle; and entering the
embattled porch, Captain Heaviside observed in a whisper to Sir
Patricius: "A d----d bore to be sure it is, all this dressing for
dinner, my good Sir Patricius. But no matter, it is some consolation,
however, that we shall have an excellent feed; and I am resolved to do
it justice, exercise and the mountain air having sharpened a natural
good appetite."
"But," rejoined Sir Patricius, "hark, again this accursed bell, how it
frights the castle from its propriety.
'Ring out the alarum-bell, blow winds come, crack,
At least we'll die with harness on our back.'
But never mind, we shall be ready before the bell rings a third time."
The man of physic and the man of war having thus spoken, they wended
their way to their respective toilettes, which were quickly despatched.
Here then we leave them to pay their attentions to the Duchess and the
ladies, and enjoy all the good cheer at the ducal _salle à manger_.
Meanwhile, in our next chapter, we shall return to the Duke, and escort
His Grace to the vice-regal abode at Dublin castle.
CHAPTER V.
----Al llegar á las puertas de la villa que era cercada, salio
regimiento del pueblo á recebirle, tocáron las campanas, y todos
los vecinos diéron muestras de general alegria, y con mucha pompa
le lleváron á la iglesia mayor á dar gracias a Dios, y luego con
algunas ceremonias le entregaron las llaves del pueblo, y le
admitiéron por Gobernador de la insula.
DON QUIXOTE, tome IV. ch. 45.
TRANSLATION.
When he approached the town gates (for it was walled) the officers
came out to welcome him, the bells rang, and all the inhabitants
made show of a general gladness; and they carried him in great
pomp to the high church, to give God thanks; and shortly after
some ceremonies they delivered him the keys, and admitted him as
Governor of the island.
DON QUIXOTE, book IV. ch. 45.
The Duke of Tyrconnel took his departure, as was observed in the last
chapter, at an early hour; the roads were in excellent order for
travelling, the morning appeared settled and serene, and an enlivening
sun shone forth propitiously on his journey.
The vice-regal carriage had just reached the town of Ballyshannon, when
one of the fine animals (a leader) which drew the vehicle lost a fore
shoe, which caused the cavalcade to stop. This interruption to the
journey afforded an opportunity to the Duke, of which he availed
himself, of visiting the venerable ruins of Ashrow Abbey, which were at
that point of time noble and imposing even in decay. The beautifully
pointed gothic arches, and the gilded ceilings in the vaults of the
cloisters, called forth and attracted the attention and admiration of
His Grace. When the Duke had returned to his inn from the inspection of
these venerable monastic remains, a large party of horsemen were
discerned trotting onward at a round and rapid pace. The Duke was
stationed in a small gallery, or balcony, surmounting the door of the
inn, when a tumultuous congratulatory roar from the equestrians, and
addressed to His Grace, resounded on all sides, and the well-known Irish
welcome of "_Cead millia failtha_," (that is "a hundred thousand hearty
welcomes,") saluted the ducal ear. His Grace took off his hat, which he
most gracefully waved, and graciously bowed. He then addressed them, and
was pleased to say, "My good friends, I feel truly grateful for this
warm burst of loyalty; but I request to ask whither, and in such rapid
haste, ye are all proceeding?
'Go ye in peace, or go ye in war?'
There is surely no fair now going on in these parts of the country;
there is no wake, no saint's patron-day recorded in the calendar; there
is no racing, no hurling-match, no rural sport that I know of; and
therefore I feel at a loss how to account for thus assembling in
numbers, and I must needs doubt whether the motive be justifiable."
The troop of peasants, to the number of twelve or fifteen persons, were
mounted on horseback; most of the horses carried double, in accordance
to an old strange Irish usage, and which custom prevails in many parts
of Ireland even at the point of time in which we now address our
readers. The peasants replied, in respondence to the queries of the
Duke, to this effect: "So may it please your Lordship's noble Reverence,
we are men of the mountains, just going up for a bit to town, to procure
a little law," [i. e. being duly interpreted, means _litigation_.]
"Then," rejoined the Duke, "if such be your intention, my serious and
friendly advice to you all, my good men of the mountains, is simply
this, that you do all at the present immediately return back to your
respective districts, and peaceably retire to your native hills and
homes; avoid law, strife, and litigation; return to the tranquil heights
of the lofty Tyraugh, and there enjoy, undisturbed by the factious or
the turbulent, that peace and tranquillity which is shed around your
happy cottages, beyond the turmoil of the world, and there dwell, and
likewise cultivate the Christian virtues of peace and brotherly love.
Forget and forgive the past; bear and forbear! And if I wore the
sacerdotal garb, I could not in so few words, perhaps, advert more to
the present purpose which has, be it what it may, conjured up some bad
blood, as I have strong reasons to apprehend. This line of conduct, my
countrymen, you must be sensible, it is your bounden duty to pursue;
attend to your farms, cherish your families, and look to yourselves;
obey your magistrates, and attend to your religious duties; and last,
though not least, honour and reverence your noble king. I feel it
incumbent on me to tell you such ought to be your line of conduct, and
to this effect, too, will all your Clergy to a man pronounce to you,
whether parson, priest, or prelate!"
This speech allayed the threatened storm; and as if the wind had
changed to a different point, gently impelling a vessel in a contrary
course, thus suddenly were the litigious intentions of the "men of the
mountains" changed. They thanked his Lordship's "glorious Honour for his
kind condescension, and solemnly protested that they would forego _the
bit of law_ which they had intended, and willingly abide by his
Lordship's most worshipful advice." Reining round their steeds, they
proceeded upon their return home in a trot more rapid even than that in
which they had approached; and giving three loud distinct cheers of
"_Cead millia failtha_," were soon out of sight.
The book of wisdom saith "a soft answer turneth away wrath;" and it is
no less true, that a generous act, or even a kind expression, makes an
indelible impression upon the grateful heart of an Irishman!
While the Duke was engaged in the foregoing expostulation with "the men
of the mountains," the farrier, as he called himself, was meantime
actively employed, in which his tongue was as prompt as his hand was
ready, in performing, as he conceived it, the proud destiny of replacing
the fore shoe on the noble leader, in lieu of that which had been lost;
and thus from his anvil he addressed the Duke's valet: "Och then, plaze
your honour, master Brushwell, may be it isn't I who understands, any
how, in a jiffy to whip on a shoe upon any poor beast in the four
bordering counties; and a great sin and shame in me it would be if I
didn't exart myself for one of the true ould Irish stock? In troth in a
jiffy I will knock off the job, and by J---- it shall be properly well
done! for oh, _naboclish_, sure enough may be Tom Hob isn't the boy,
after all, for quickly knocking off a job for a parson he loves; and in
troth he may say with the ould ballad--
'Tom's heart, like his iron, is hissingly hot,
Though his iron should cool, his heart it shall not!'"
In these remote days the peaceful methods of life, the arts of
agriculture and husbandry, were but imperfectly known; and the practice
of farriery was rudely and ignorantly performed; then veterinary
professors did not exist, [the foregoing incident of the lost horse-shoe
has led to this short digression,] and farriery was clumsily practised,
save, perchance in the forge of some farrier of heavy dragoons. The arts
of war, meanwhile, were but too successfully carried on, while the happy
arts of peace slumbered in the shade, and neglected agriculture sunk
depressed beneath the warlike tone and temper of the times. The sickle
and the ploughshare, the attributes and implements of husbandry, were
destined to be neglected, else otherwise to be transmuted into the spear
and falchion of war.
But we resume our narrative.--The first day and night of the Duke's
departure he dined and slept at the hospitable abode of Castle-Caldwell,
the noble and magnificent mansion of the Baronet of the same name, which
delightful residence derived its name from the owner. The promontories
that raised their peninsular summits above and around the beautiful and
expanded lake of Lough Erne, were all brilliantly illuminated by
bonfires made by the peasantry. The beacon-flame also blazed from the
crowned summit of every surrounding hill and mountain. These bright
testimonies of gladness burst forth to hail the Duke's welcome arrival.
In furtherance of which the furze, fern, heath, and tall sword-grass, on
hill and rock, were all set into one universal conflagration, the
brilliant coruscations of which flashed, flamed, and undulated upon the
expanded waters of Lough Erne; while bonfires were seen to burn and
blaze upon the cloud-crested heights of the Tyraugh mountains.
Meanwhile, in sympathy with the scene, the great promontory of
Ross-a-Goul brightly bore the beacon blaze upon his lofty brow, which
flamed forth and flashed volcano-like above the adjacent woods and
groves, illuminating every islet, rock, and indented shore, and
reflecting its ruddy light in brilliance upon the dark waves of
Ross-Moor, which seemed emulous to flash back their radiance on
Ross-Goul.
The town of Churchill manifested similar demonstrations of joy and
gratulation upon the arrival of the popular viceroy. It is time,
however, to return to the hospitable board of the worthy host, who, with
his noble and distinguished guests, sat down to a magnificent dinner at
the good, early, rational, but now antiquated hour of four o'clock,
which was the healthy custom in these times remote. Among many
surrounding nobles and gentry present at this splendid banquet, we must
not pass by unobserved two notable characters who were seated at the
Baronet's table: the one was the Lord Viscount Glandarah, and the other
was the Rev. Doctor Dismal Drew, L.L.D., a quondam Fellow of Trinity
College, Dublin,[16] and who had been collated to the valuable living of
----, the advowson of which was in the gift of the University of Dublin.
These two worthies formed a remarkable and striking contrast to each
other.
[16] "Anno 1590.--The Monastery of All-Hallows was granted by the
citizens for the site of an university.
"----1591.--Trinity College founded by Queen Elizabeth. Opened
1593. Received a new charter and statutes 1637."--_Annals of the
City of Dublin._
Lord Glandarah, imitating the profitable example of the wise Ulysses,
who
----"Multorum providus urbes
Et mores, hominum inspexit,"
had visited foreign countries and courts, where he had resided during a
very long period, even from his early youth. It was whispered, and it
was also believed, that he was at heart _un bon Catholiquè_. However,
whether the assertion was true or false, certain it is that his Lordship
took his seat in the Irish House of Peers; so that his case was
completely _in foro conscientiæ_, and with which nobody had any right to
intermeddle, it being a matter between him and a higher power than any
court upon earth, temporal or spiritual.
His Lordship was an accomplished and polished nobleman; he had seen,
and with no unobserving eye, the different nations and courts of Europe;
had examined their laws, their governments, and establishments; he had
been so long resident upon the continent, (even from his earliest
years,) that from his foreign intonation of voice, and speaking, as he
did, broken English, he might readily have passed for a German or a
Frenchman. Lord Glandarah was personally known by the Duke of Tyrconnel,
who, upon this interview, heartily shook hands; and the former warmly
congratulated the latter upon his promotion to the viceroyship of
Ireland: "Gad save my soul, _mon très-excellent_ Duke, I am _absolumènt_
delighted; _je suis ravis entirement à vous revoir_. I am _tout_
delighted! _Jamais, jamais si bien heureux! Un verre de vin: à votre
tres bonne santé, et aussi la de votre tres amiable et accomplié Madame
la Duchesse. Nous aurons une petit Cour de Versailes à la Chateau de
Dublin. Sans doute et comme certainement nous verrons! Tres joli, tres
joli! Sir Jacques Colville, j'ai l'honneur de saluër votre santé._"
Lord Glandarah was attired in a court dress of green Genoa velvet,
richly embroidered with gold; and the old aristocratic peer was so
orthodox that even his hunting wig, when he rode on horseback, had _une
petite bourse_ attached to it, and the peruke was surmounted by a small
cocked hat, trimmed with broad gold lace, with an appendant feather; and
these he considered as indispensable appanages of _un gentilhomme comme
il faut_! or, as Horace has expressed it, "_Homo factus ad unguem_"--a
finished gentleman, even to the paring of his nail! Compared with Doctor
Dismal Drew, he was "Hyperion to a satyr." Doctor Drew was in stature
six feet by two, without diminution or subtraction, but awfully
"Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and height."
The Doctor's head was of a portentous size, which induced his
cotemporaries, while a student in college, to bestow on him the epithet
or sobriquet of "the bull-headed (βοῦς κέφαλος) student;" and
most certain it is, that the exterior exceeded in dimensions every other
head within the precincts of that learned corporation. He was extremely
near-sighted, and always wore either goggles or spectacles made of green
glass, which, as our readers may fairly suspect, did not by any means
add to his personal appearance or attraction, whatever they might have
abducted. He was however, be the truth spoken, an excellent scholar,
philosopher, and moreover this same "learned Theban" was a mathematician
to boot. His manners were unpolished--nay, repulsive. His gait in the
street or drawing-room was so strange and inhuman-like, that it was only
ideally to be compared to the floundering motion of a wounded walrus
standing on its hind legs, then dragging its heavy weight along. At
table the movement of his arms was so exceedingly annoying to his
neighbours that it invariably caused them to keep a most circumspect and
respectful distance. His voice, when he spoke, which was only when he
wanted to be helped to some piquant viand, was harsh and stentorian, and
might not unaptly be compared to the discordant cadence of a cracked
bassoon. He was learned--he abounded in anecdote; and if he chose to be
at the trouble, he could be witty. But no; during dinner, and even when
the cloth was removed, solemn as the grave he sat doggedly pinioned to
his chair, silently sipping drop by drop his Burgundy. He seemed to be
apprehensive that the time he would occupy in conversation would
interfere with the time allotted for the act of deglutition; therefore
he sat taciturn, as if the use of his tongue was inevitably and
irretrievably to destroy the powers of his palate!
Doctor Drew was by no means deficient in dry and sarcastic humour; and
many anecdotes may be still found savoury in the college-courts and
dinner-hall of this quondam queer-fellow of old _alma mater_; however we
will trespass on the reader's attention only with one anecdote:--
Doctor Dismal Drew passing one morning through the college courts, from
the library to his chambers, happened to meet a young student who had
been only a few days matriculated, and such are, in popular parlance in
the university, called _jibs_; the young student had the ill-fortune to
pass this learned Leviathan, without the usual salutation of doffing his
four-cornered cap to his mighty superior:--"Halloo," roared the Doctor,
"come back; hark ye, I say, young master, pray how long, young
gentleman, allow me to ask, have you worn the academic gown?"
"Just eight days, may it so please your Reverence."
"Ay, ay; in sooth, young master, I thought as much, for we all know that
puppies cannot make use of their eyes until they are nine days old!"
When Doctor Dismal Drew had with-drawn from the dinner-room, Lord
Glandarah addressed the Duke of Tyrconnel in an under tone: "Gad save
me, my Lord Duke, _mais cette est un homme austere, outre, et tres
singulier; et, par tout, un bête horriblè_."
"Adonis, you recollect, my Lord, was killed by a _boar_!"
"Excellent, O Duke! and I too should be killed by--the Doctor's
company!--_non, pardonnez moi_ presence, I should say; he be no company!
_en veritè_ two entire days would despatch me. He is _assuremènt
Polyphemus le second, mais avec cette dissemblance par tout que le
monstre il eut un oeil bel excellènt, pendant que, le Docteur ave sans
doubtè deux diaboleùx_ bad eyes!"
"Oh, unquestionably, my Lord! but then he has an intellectual one; and
we must give due credit to Sir James Caldwell for the attention and
kindness which he dispenses to his quondam tutor. It is kind,
considerate, grateful, and honourable, to his feelings."
Sir James Caldwell, for whom the Duke of Tyrconnel entertained a great
regard and affection, from long acquaintance and intercourse, took an
opportunity, previous to the departure of His Grace, of making a strong
and impressive request that the Duke would be pleased to appoint his
worthy and learned friend the Doctor to be one of His Grace's domestic
chaplains.
"Why really, my kind and worthy friend, your request appears to me to
be a matter of greater difficulty than you, Sir James, seem to be aware
of, biassed, no doubt, by your kindness and partiality for the Doctor;
however you must needs acknowledge that there is somewhat _outré_ and
repulsive in the _tout ensemble_ of this extraordinary man; his general
appearance, his manners, his dress, and address, and those unindurable
appendices of green goggles, and his _je ne scai quoi_ impression, which
is better seen than described. However, if it be possible I shall
willingly assent to your request, provided that you, on the part of the
learned Doctor, accede to my capitulations, which I require and demand.
First, I insist upon the total abandonment of those everlasting green
goggles, in which I verily believe he sleeps withal. Secondly, I
resolve, as a _sine qua non_, that the learned Doctor, upon his arrival
in the metropolis, shall employ either a drill sergeant or a _maitre de
danse_, to mollify his movements of legs and arms! You stare in
astonishment, my good Sir James, but marry, I do not mean, in sooth,
that your grave Doctor and L.L.D. should slowly glide down the sober
minuet, or the more solemn paven, with formal features and extended
cassock, _chausse_ the cotillion, or trot down the merry _contredanse_;
no, _mehercule_, by no means, but this exercise I would fain prescribe
merely in order to give a gentlemanly ease and deportment of person. And
thirdly, I must require that the Doctor should purchase a new gown and
cassock; these habiliments having become threadbare in the service of
old Alma. Fourthly, that the Doctor shall, _sine mora_, have constructed
a neat orthodox wig, curled and powdered _a la Louis Quatorze_, &c. &c."
All these sage and precise preliminaries being agreed, ratified, and
concluded upon, by the high contracting parties, the Duke upon the
following morning took a friendly leave, and set off to pursue his
journey to Dublin. He kindly offered the Lord Glandarah a seat in his
carriage, who was likewise destined for Dublin; and which offer was most
thankfully accepted by the noble peer. Having duly paid their respective
devoirs to their hospitable host they departed, much gratified by their
reception at the noble and social mansion of Castle-Caldwell.
The Duke and his noble _compagnon de voyage_ travelled onward without
any accident or occurrence worth narrating, and arrived that day to
dinner at Tarah-Castle, the noble residence of the Lord Tarah. But at
the present day no vestige of this once celebrated castle remains, where
once
"To chiefs and ladies bright
The harp of Tarah swelled!"
Upon this distinguished day the hospitable board was loaded with every
luxury; generous Burgundy and enlivening Champaign flowed around in
bumpers; while it seemed a mooted matter of opinion which was most to be
admired, the generous courtesy and hospitality of the noble proprietor
of the castle, the excellence of his viands and wines, or the "soul of
music" that breathed around!
Moments of convivial joy and harmony, however, soon pass by, and are
forgotten likewise in the advance of time.
The following morning, soon after breakfast was concluded, the Duke of
Tyrconnel bade an affectionate adieu to the Lord of Tarah, and
accompanied by Lord Glandarah, set off in his travelling carriage for
the castle of Dublin. The journey was safely proceeded on to
Dunshauglin, where the Duke's state carriages and horses were in
attendance to convey him to Dublin, accompanied by a squadron of horse.
As he approached the city of Dublin, at the barrier of Barrack-street
the horses were taken from the carriage by the populace, and His Grace
was drawn in triumph to the capital; all the cathedral and church bells
ringing forth a merry peal. His Grace was sworn into his high office,
the patent having been read, before the privy council; at the same
moment three rockets in succession ascended from Birmingham Tower, which
were signals of His Grace having been sworn into his high official
station; and were duly responded to by the salute-battery in His
Majesty's royal chase, or park; and the salute was again returned by the
battery stationed on the south-wall of the Liffey. At night a general
and splendid illumination succeeded, which concluded the rejoicings of
this most memorable day.
CHAPTER VI.
----The nature of our people,
Our city's institutions, and the terms
Of common justice, y'are as pregnant in
As art and practice hath enriched any
That we remember. There is our commission!
MEASURE FOR MEASURE.
Fully resolved justly and conscientiously to discharge with unremitting
and unceasing attention the responsible duties of his high office, the
Duke now commenced his vice-regal career. He arose at an early hour, and
whatever public business was to be transacted, he constantly despatched
before the hour of breakfast. He was polite, courteous, and accessible
to all; his was the _suaviter in modo_, but it was also accompanied with
the _fortiter in re_.
The first day for holding a vice-regal levee, as specified by public
notice from the Chamberlain's office, having arrived, it commenced
exactly at one o'clock, and was most numerously attended. Among the vast
assemblage were noticed the Lord Mayor, the Lord High Chancellor Sir
Alexander Fitton Lord Baron of Gausworth; the judges and great officers
of state; a long train of gentry, numerous members of the lower and
upper houses of parliament attended; many a grave and reverend prelate,
and many a baron bold--"_Post alios_; _fortemque Gyan_, _fortemque
Cloanthum_," &c.
The company appeared arrayed in full and appropriate court costume.
There were likewise present the different staff officers, besides those
of the garrison; and a large body of ecclesiastics, Protestant and
Catholic, attended. The ceremonies of the day were throughout conducted
with great decorum and propriety.
Among the notable personages that were this day presented to the Duke,
we must not omit to notice the Honourable Mr. Berenger, M. P. for the
County of----, of an ancient and ennobled family, whose ancestor came
to Ireland in the time of the second Henry. He wore a very large black
curled peruke, which flowed like a lion's mane adown his shoulders; his
coat and small-clothes were of light blue velvet, richly embroidered; a
waistcoat richly worked, and adorned with foliations formed of various
precious stones. He wore, too, a superb diamond-hilted sword; diamond
shoe and knee buckles; silk stockings, with gold embroidered clokes; and
the heels of his shoes were of red Morocco leather. He was indeed,
beyond all dispute, the unparalleled dandy of his day! Mr. Berenger had
been in his youth a very handsome man; but his face now was deadly pale;
and his eyes, which had been once brilliant as the diamonds which
adorned him, reposed, dim and shorn of their beams, within their hollow
and shrivelled sockets. Time, too, had left his stern impress in the
indented furrows of the cheek and the care-scored wrinkles of his brow:
he looked the languid voluptuary, while surfeit and satiety seemed to
seal up his lips. His figure, notwithstanding, was yet even still fine
and commanding. His countenance, however, spoke more plainly of the
preterpluperfect than either of the present or future tense. His eyes
reposed on the carpet or upon vacancy; they had in them "no speculation,
that they did glare withal." When attending the gay and dissipated court
of the second Charles he had often revelled with Rochester, and jested
with Killigrew and, moreover, had the high distinction paid him of
being called "a very finished gentleman indeed" by the witty monarch,
"whose word no man relied on!"
The eccentric Mr. Berenger had severally proposed at three different
times a matrimonial alliance with Lady Lucy, the Duke's youngest sister,
who politely, but positively refused him; and upon some overtures to
renew his solicitations, Lady Lucy observed, that as she had so long
delayed to marry for love, she was now resolved not to marry in the
capacity of a nurse-tender! This was so home an _argumentum ad
superbiam_ a cut and thrust at the pride of the Honourable Member, that
he now seemed to have no intention of becoming a Benedict. Lady Letitia
found great fault with her sister, complained of her cruelty, and
sturdily maintained "that the Honourable M. P. having shewn such a
confirmed constancy, ought not to have met with this sharp repulse; for
it was evident and manifest that Mr. Berenger did not indeed belong to
the shabby class of '_perhaps_' suitors.
But it is now time that we should return from this digression. Sir John
Caldwell was at the levee, and his _protegè_, our quondam acquaintance
Doctor Dismal Drew, a newly-appointed chaplain, in a gown and cassock
spick and span, who having fully acceded to the rules and stipulations
of address, costume, and conduct, appeared indeed to have been moulded
into quite a different personage. However his strange absence of mind
and defect of judgment fully remained unaltered, as was fully
exemplified on the ensuing Sunday, when he preached a sermon at the
castle chapel before the Duke and his vice-regal suite. The text was
chosen in bad tact, however, and still worse policy: it was selected
from the xxvth chapter of Proverbs, 5th verse: "Take away the wicked
from before the king, and his throne shall be established in
righteousness!" This was unquestionably an uncalled for attack upon the
ministry, upon the noble viceroy, and on his patron; and his name was
struck out of the list of chaplains, never to be again restored. So much
for Doctor Drew! whose head seemed to be obtuse albeit--certainly,
however, it was never destined to be encircled with that ornament with
which Sancho crowned the head of his favourite Dapple.
Early on the succeeding day her Grace the Duchess of Tyrconnel, the
lovely Lady Adelaide, Ladies Letitia and Lucy, escorted by the polite
and facetious Sir Patricius Placebo, arrived safely at Dublin Castle,
and were most warmly and affectionately received by the Duke and
viceroy.
The vice-regal party sat down to dinner at their usual and not
irrational hour of four o'clock, which, in these our modern days of
dissipation and late hours, would be considered as an hour for dinner
quite gothic and _à la Bourgeois_; for in these our polished days of
finished taste and refinement, late hours seem to be the very _acme_ of
fashion; late dinners necessarily being succeeded by late suppers, and,
_par consèquence_, afternoon breakfasts, in consequatory succession,
bringing up the rere of fashionable high-life to the great practice and
benefit of the College of Physicians.
The conversation after dinner was lively and agreeable. The Duchess
described their journey, and gave many traits of the good feeling and
humour of the lower classes, as witnessed in their journey from
Tyrconnel Castle. When the ladies had retired, Lord Glandarah, who was
of the party, speaking of the eccentric Mr. Berenger, who had been at
the levee on the preceding day, turning to Sir Patricius, inquired of
him if he knew that eccentric personage? and the following reply, aided
by the effects of brisk Champaign, thus effervesced and flowed from his
lips: "Oh, yes, my Lord, I have before these days met with Count
Berenger, as he was called; I have too heard him converse with the
Windsor beauties, whose similitudes Sir Peter Lely, of pictorial fame,
----'On animated canvass stole
Their sleepy eye that speaks the melting soul.'
Ay, my Lord, and often have I met him at the carousals of old King
Carolus, now defunct, but of blessed memory! He is _certes_ the
completely finished gentleman. He was once gay, and airy, and agreeable;
but now in sooth I must say that he looks as sombre and demure as a
solemn gentleman of the long robe extending his silken train, and
dancing down a paven![17] In the sublime art of eating he is not a
professor, but an artist, only munches the sunny side of a peach or a
nectarine; when he wishes to be helped to fowl or chicken, he is always
sure to bespeak the liver wing; knows all the nice cuts in a haunch of
venison, and he can carve you twenty nice _morceaux_ from the head of a
cod-fish; he knows too how turtle should be cooked, and how duly to
appreciate callipash and callipe; a glass of liqueur or genuine Coniac
he knows as well as I do to be a safe, salutary, and no unpleasant
condiment to his fish. In a word, his is the true art of _sçavoir
vivre_; and 'fore Jove or great Apollo, if this were a writing or a
printing age, I should incontinently like and admire to have 'Culinary
Lucubrations, or the whole divine Art of Cookery,' from the pen of the
honourable and polished Mr. Berenger! But it was a sad omission of mine,
my Lord, not to include among his various accomplishments, that he is an
excellent judge of wines, and an excellent taster too, to boot; for he
would never mistake Port wine for Tokay, Chambertin for Chateau-Margut,
nor Vin de Grave for Hock! I think there is no going beyond these. Here,
then, I sum up the climax of his character, 'not to know him argues
one's self unknown!'--My Lord Glandarah, your Lordship's very good
health."
[17] The _paven_ (from _pavo_, a peacock) is a grave, majestic
dance. The method of dancing it was anciently by gentlemen dressed
with a cap and sword; by those of the long robe in their gowns; by
the princes in their mantles; and by ladies in gowns with long
trains, the motion whereof in the dance resembled that of a
_peacock's tail_. This dance is supposed to have been invented by
the Spaniards, and its figure is given, with the characters for
the steps, in the _Orchesographia_ of Thoinet Arbeau.--See Note to
"_The Mad Lover_." Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, vol. IV. p. 186.
Here the noble Duke, concluding from the foregoing symptoms that the
Doctor had not omitted taking his _quantum sufficit_ of Burgundy,
proposed another flask to Lord Glandarah, or some coffee with the
ladies. The ladies had the preference given them; and the Duke retiring
to the drawing-room, was followed by his guests.
"I have," whispered Sir Patricius to Lord Glandarah, "observed, in
divers companies and upon several occasions, that His Grace in these
matters always leaves the discussion to the _liberum arbitrium_ of his
guests."
"And," replied the Peer, "Gad save my soul, I laud his discreet
resolution!"
The Duchess appointed her first drawing-room for the succeeding
evening. It may not be amiss here to acquaint the reader, that at the
period of which we now write, court dresses were universally worn by
both sexes at evening routes and balls: the gentlemen appeared in full
court costume, with bags, swords, and buckles; and the ladies with
monstrous bell-hoops, and portentous stomachers of an ell in longitude!
and withal incased in the cumbrous accoutrement of a heavy stiffened
silk mantua; while their false and elevated tetes reminded one of Pelion
piled up on Ossa.
The above remarks will be sufficient to account for the short notice
given for the intended drawing-room. We would also observe upon the
hours at which the worthy folks of these days assembled at their evening
parties. At this period of time the fashionable hour of paying visits
was not, as it is now, in the morning, or rather mid-day, when every
body is abroad, but it was in the evening, when every one almost was at
home; and the visiting hour commenced at so early an hour as seven
o'clock. In the autumnal and winter months the saloons and
drawings-rooms of the noblesse and gentry in Dublin were at that hour,
or at the first visitor's knock at the door, immediately brilliantly
lighted up, and if both parties were perfectly disengaged, the guests
remained; each room displaying richly cut glass lustres and glass
chandeliers illuminated with wax; there was a numerous display of
card-tables; the servants attending in rich liveries; while lords and
knights, and commoners, and stately dames, and ladies gay, came attired
in their court costume. The company partook of tea, coffee, &c.; in the
course of the evening lemonade, orgeat, cake, wine, negus, jellies,
sweetmeats, and confections, (for the luxury of ice was then unknown,)
were handed around to the company, many of whom had meantime sat down to
the card-table, some playing whist, cribbage, or tredrille; some at
ombre, and others at loo. And as the clock struck ten the company
separated, and all retired.
Ladies of high rank usually visited in their state sedan-chairs, which
were stuffed, and lined with white and pink satin, and externally
decorated with different rich ornaments; large silk tassels dangled at
the four angular points of the roof, and the highest top, or pinnacle,
was surmounted by a gilt coronet reposing on a crimson cushion; three,
sometimes four, footmen, according to the rank of the individual,
habited in splendid liveries, and arranged in single files, preceded the
sedan-chair, each bearing a lighted flambeau. And sooth to say, some of
the old dowagers, when the doubtful light of the flambeau flashed upon
their withered visages, incontinently reminded the spectator of the
waxen figure of queen Elizabeth in the glass-case at Westminster-Abbey!
The drawing-room night arrived, and was crowded by numbers of the
nobility and gentry of both sexes, when the old and the young were
assembled together. It was indeed a splendid scene--a galaxy of beauty
and magnificence; the dresses were superb; and bright and brilliant were
the blaze of gems and jewels that adorned the brows, ears, and encircled
the lovely necks of the young, and sparkled on those of a more matronly
description. The youthful and lovely fair presenting no unfavourable
specimen of the beauty of the daughters of Erin; their cheeks rivalling
the rose, and blushing in graceful adolescence; while their lovely
bosoms, glowing in healthful bloom, reflected a pearly radiance around
the diamonds which sparkled upon and adorned them.
Several ladies of the nobility and gentry, amounting to many hundreds,
were presented, and all of whom were most graciously received by the
truly kind and agreeable Duchess.
The amusements of the evening commenced. Several grave minuets were
danced in a most marvellous solemn pace; to these succeeded the _minùet
de là Cour_, which was danced by Sir Patricius Placebo and Lady Letitia
Raymond, to the great entertainment of the Duke and Duchess, whose
gravity, in sooth to say, was upon this occasion quite borne down and
vanquished. Then followed cotillions, which were succeeded
by contre-dances, which ended the amusements of the night. Numerous
card-tables were placed, and were not unoccupied by the elder part of
the assemblage, many of whom went away with their purses many a _minus_
diminished, when they at solemn leisure reckoned their losses on the
said night or ensuing morning. But the fun and the drollery of the
evening seemed to concentrate in the ridicule attached to Sir Philip
Fumbally, a civic knight and alderman, who somewhat resembled, in
corporal shape and form, the paunch of Falstaff, with all the stiffness
of mine ancient Pistol--aye, and the very nose of renowned Bardolph!
However we must take up the brush and finish our portrait. Sir Philip
was in stature about four feet five, a perfect rotundity in corpulence,
fat short hands, fat short legs; and his face--oh, ye gods, such a face
was his! Forehead, he had none! his hair was red, his small ferret eyes
were grey, if eyes they could be called, which were indeed to him _no
windows of the soul_! but closed as if under the awful influence of
Somnus! His nose was flat, and in colour ruddy red, his chubby cheeks
the same; and his mouth opened and grinned with all the agreeability of
a cayman or crocodile! His laugh and look were horrid, the former the
diapason of a demon, and the latter the very outline of Memistopheles.
Leaning upon his unwieldy arm was seen his long-necked, long-armed, and
long-legged ugly lady. The Irish, who are somewhat "both the great,
vulgar, and the small," too much given liberally to bestow
_soubriquets_, nicknamed this unparalleled pair _flesh and bone_! And
Sir Patricius Placebo somewhat wittily observed, upon his word of
honour, as a true knight, that Lady Fumbally always reminded him of an
undertaker's horse, a Rosinante covered with a compound of velvet
trappings and nodding plumage, withal to cover the skeleton which they
adorned!
When the presentations commenced, Sir Philip, "like a doating mallard,"
waddled after the unfurled train of "his darling duckie," (by which
endearing name he familiarly styled my Lady Fumbally,) it so happened
that in discharging this uxorious task he tripped up fairly, or rather
foully, his lady's train, and by which losing his equipoise, the worthy
knight was very nearly tripped up himself. The courtiers all tittered,
and some indeed extended it to a most uncourtly loud laugh. The lady,
like unto Lot's wife, would fain turn around in defiance of all courtly
etiquette, and her visage seemed deeply to participate in the
_bouleversement_ of her velvet train. Here the amiable knight,
compassionating her trodden down vanity, fairly took up the said
portentous train, which was soon somewhat incontinently snatched by a
chamberlain in waiting from the grasp of the knight, and again permitted
to perform its meanders on the carpet _ad libitum_. The laugh and
titters were again renewed. Mr. Berenger, who was standing close to Sir
Patricius Placebo, seemed to be quite roused from his usual
_nonchalance_, and whispered Sir Patricius, "this is too bad, _risu
ineptu nulla res ineptior est_; (nothing is so foolish as the laugh of
fools!) however, we courtiers are always too fond of a laugh, that is to
say, (_crede experto_,) provided that it be never directed against
ourselves! Sir Patricius, we (with his fore-finger touching the facial
nerve of his nose) _have been_ at the court of good old Carolus!"
The worthy Baronet, to whom these observations were addressed, did not
commit himself by one single comment, but silently nodded, and was
meantime taking snuff with immoderate rapidity, and in no stinted
quantities; and when these piquant remarks were made by the ornament of
the old court, Sir Patricius politely and gently as possible laughed
(_voce depresso_) his heh, heh, heh, and his ahem! "Yes, yes, Mr.
Berenger, _indeed we_ have seen the world!--ahem!
DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!"
Sir Philip Fumbally was the renowned and recorded alderman who at a
civic feast loudly proclaimed that Marshal Turenne had taken GREAT
UMBRAGE, and proposed as a right gallant toast--"Health to the mighty
and glorious conqueror of GREAT UMBRAGE, the valiant Turenne!" The toast
was drank with great enthusiasm; but soon each civic guest asked
significantly his neighbour the geographical position of GREAT UMBRAGE;
was it in France, in Flanders, Utopia, or the Lord knows where? The
Gazetteer was put in requisition, and the general atlas (such as the
times afforded) were called for, and were conned over. But alas!
UMBRAGE--the proud, the great, and mighty, could no where be found; its
place was a blank amid the nations!
What conduced to the mistake or blunder was, that a pique had arisen at
that time between General Konigsmark and General Geis (subsequent to the
passage of the river Neckar in Germany,) against the Duc d'Enghien, (by
whose valour that pass was won, and also Wimpfen was taken;) declaring
that the two former would quit the army, &c. At this declaration the
Field Marshal Viscount Turenne, it was rumoured, had _taken_ UMBRAGE! It
was upon this _datum_ that the worthy alderman had built his _el
dorado_, his airy citadel, his undiscoverable principality and victory!
But Turenne soared above the impetuosity of Konigsmark, and the
obstinacy of the other two. Turenne was a hero! and one who would scorn
to the city achievement of _taking_ UMBRAGE from friend or foe!
For about the space of an hour the lovely Lady Adelaide was permitted to
remain at the drawing-room, the delight of every eye, and the theme of
every tongue.
The Duke sat down to play at tredrille with the Countess Dowager of
Ossory and Lord Glandarah. This game, as the name implies, was played by
three persons at a small triangular table, which in these our degenerate
days, are shown only as curiosities in the cabinets of the curious; and
the Duke, when they left off play, arose a winner of about twenty
pounds; for in their quiet, snug way the good folks of those days often
lost or won fourteen or fifteen pounds of the current coin of the realm
at a pool of tredrille, which was then considered _most moderate_ play!
About the hour of eleven o'clock the Duke and Duchess, who had been much
gratified and amused during the course of the evening, arose, and bowing
most gracefully and courteously to their guests, broke up the
drawing-room, and retired.
The company soon departed for their homes, highly pleased and
gratified with the courteous deportment of the noble pair; charmed alike
by their affable manners and fascinating attentions equally bestowed on
all. It would be tedious at this time of day to detail the names, and it
might seem invidious to record the particular beauties that graced the
brilliant circle, which upon that memorable evening crowded and adorned
the splendid suite of rooms at Dublin Castle.
CHAPTER VII.
Young innocent, on whose sweet forehead mild
The parted ringlet shone in simplest guise,
An inmate in the home of RAYMOND smil'd,
Or blest his noonday walk.--She was his only child.
CAMPBELL.
The faculty having strongly recommended sea-bathing as salutary and
beneficial to the health of Lady Adelaide, the Duke, in consequence of
this advice, purchased a hunting lodge, not remote from the sea-shore,
and beautifully situated amid the romantic scenery of the county of
Wicklow, which, from its proximity to the metropolis, afforded a
convenient retreat, and from whence he could, with little or no delay,
receive and despatch the duties attendant upon his high official
situation. As soon as the mansion was placed in a state of proper
repair, and becomingly furnished to be worthy of the reception of the
representative of majesty, the Duke resolved, for the benefit of the
health of a beloved and only daughter, as well as for his own repose
from the fatigues of office, to retire to his newly-acquired purchase of
Lætely Abbey--for thus was this hunting lodge denominated; and this
resolve was not long without being carried into execution. The Duke and
Duchess of Tyrconnel, accompanied by Lady Adelaide, the sisters of the
Duke, not forgetting Sir Patricius Placebo, that witty knight; along
with a numerous attendant suite, left Dublin Castle for their sojourn at
Lætely Abbey, and after a few hours travelling, they safely reached the
place of their destination.
Letely (or Lætely) Abbey (_quasi lætus locus_), for by this latter
designation antiquarians insisted that it should be called, was indeed a
lovely place, surrounded as it was by all the combining beauties of
natural scenery: here stood the venerable ruins of a decayed abbey, its
walls wreathed and its summits crowned with ivy, while its grand oriel
or eastern window, magnificent even in decay, was festooned and
enlivened with various creeping plants, the sweet-smelling clematis, the
jessamine, and woodbine, trailed around the ruins of the stone casement,
through which the sun-beams cheerfully shone, while the foliage
gracefully waved in the blast, and the blossoms all sweetly perfumed the
surrounding air. To the right of the abbey arose an extensive
sheep-walk, whose boundaries were crowned by lofty groves of arbutus, or
the strawberry tree; laurel, holly, added their combining greens and
shades; and though last, not least, myrtle groves, which in this county
grow to an amazing height, verifying the very just description of the
great pastoral poet, Virgil, "_amantes littora myrtos_"--myrtles which
rejoice in being near to the shores of the sea. While in the fore-ground
of the landscape, in all its splendid azure majesty, burst forth upon
the delighted spectator's view the mighty ocean, its bosom studded with
frequent white sails, which, as they scudded along, brightly glistened
in the rays of a refulgent autumnal sun. The shore was indented by high
and undulating downs, all richly cultivated, whose green sward, in
smoothness and brilliance, vied with, if not rivalled, any carpet from
the looms of Bruxelles, Turkey, or Persia. A range of meadows succeeded
the downs, which were bordered with hedge-rows of oak, sycamore, and
ash. Adjoining this enlivening scene stood a dense grove of forest
trees, now glowing in all the rich and diversified tints of autumn. The
dark green hue of the American spruce formed a rich and striking
contrast with its deep brown cones, which gracefully clustered amid
their parent verdure, and undulated upon the waving branches, while they
bent to the breeze. The lemon-tinted leaves of the Alpine larch here
were also seen, which were finely opposed to the deep copper colour of
the umbrageous beech, and alternately blending with the bright green of
the Scottish fir, or the deeper shades of the ilex, or ever-green oak.
To the left yawned a rocky, dark, romantic glen, surmounted by
stupendous rocks frowning on the abyss beneath, whose sides were studded
with every variety of wild herb and plant indigenous to a mountainy
region, and, among others, that rare plant, the _adianthum_, fringed the
interstices of the frowning cliffs.
Beneath reposed in a secluded dell the cottage of the Duke's steward.
The latticed windows were trellised with the rose, jasmin, and woodbine;
the blue smoke which ascended and curled into clouds amid the
overhanging foliage, betokened habitation and comfort. To the cottage
was annexed an extensive farm-yard, with all the appendices of
corn-stacks, turf, and hay likewise, _cum multis aliis_, besides the
various addition of live stock, all of which added interest and
animation to the scene.
Through the bosom of this glen slowly meandered along a mountain
stream, (in winter a torrent,) whose devious course was distinctly
outlined by an accompanying range of alder trees, that in double columns
densely shaded its winding banks.
In the back ground, veiled in dark neutral tint, arose a craggy
mountain, whose base was richly dotted with groves of larch and spruce.
Prominently in the fore-ground was situated the Duke's hunting lodge,
which, as we have already said, was denominated Lætely Abbey. This
structure was built in the style of architecture of the family mansions
of the Elizabethan period. An extensive lake, supplied by a copious
mountain stream, presented itself in front of the house, until, winding
onward, it was lost amid the adjoining woods. Close by was a deer-park,
well enclosed, and numerously stocked with deer, some of whom
gregariously reposed, while others were seen trooping through the dense
woods, and gazing at the passing stranger, which added interest and a
picturesque beauty to the scene.
But the pride, grace, and ornament of Lætely Abbey was to be found in
the attractive and lovely Adelaide, who had now entered upon her
fifteenth year--so rapidly onward does time advance. Indeed it was no
flattery to say, that Adelaide was most truly engaging in her manners.
Her statue would have graced the design of Phidias or Praxiteles; her
lovely and expressive countenance captivated every beholder; the rose of
youth was upon her cheek, and her skin was fair and pure as the unsunned
lily; her dark blue eyes sparkled intelligence, beaming beneath her
beautifully arched eye-brows. Her look, gesture, and demeanour,
communicated joy; and we shall not deny a parental pride to the Duke and
Duchess, at the same time, that her looks beamed forth delight upon all
who beheld her; while her converse, sustained with a voice sweet,
distinct, and melodious, charmed every listening ear. Her manners were
unaffected, as they were natural, and all was silence when she spoke.
Her figure was graceful, as we have before noticed, and beautifully and
finely proportioned. When animated by discourse her features seemed to
be lighted up by almost celestial fire; her brilliant eyes sparkled
bright as the native diamond, and her entire countenance became
irresistibly charming.
To those of inferior rank her deportment was kind and unassuming, and
down to the lowest domestic she was beloved, for they felt and knew that
her delight was to protect those beneath her power, and not to tyrannise
over them.
With an ardent and sanguine admiration of the beauties of nature,
Adelaide too possessed an enthusiastic love of literature, conjoined to
a correctly formed and delicately refined taste. Every day her mind
expanded, from the literary lore which she imbibed, and gradually, but
extensively, her brilliant talents developed their powers. Poetry,
painting, and music, principally fascinated, as they are ever wont to
do, the feeling and romantic mind of youth. Some of those impressions
thus elicited Adelaide was occasionally in the habit of committing to
writing. One day, while some workmen of the Duke were employed in
breaking up ground upon the confines of an ancient, but neglected
cemetery, which surrounded a small dilapidated church, stationed on a
green and rising knoll, whose ruinous walls were thickly overspread with
ivy, while the alder, holly, and thorn, had stoutly installed
them-selves in what had been once the chancel--it happened that, upon
digging at the foot of an ancient thorn, they threw up a human skull,
which the Duke caused immediately to be reinterred in the same spot; and
within no distant space of time a tombstone was prepared to surmount the
grave, upon which was duly chiselled a crucifix, with the usual
accompaniments of a death's head, &c., and having called upon his
daughter's muse for some lines to be inscribed thereon, the interesting
Adelaide wrote the following, which was sculptured upon the tomb:--
INSCRIPTION.
Rest here in peace beneath this ancient thorn!
Perhaps thou once didst rural life adorn,
And raised thy hopes to heaven in yonder aisle:
Now droops thy relick nigh yon ruin'd pile!
Still peaceful rest beneath thy parent earth,
Until awakened to a nobler birth!
The Duke and Duchess having attentively perused this brief inscription,
fondly and affectionately embraced their lovely and much beloved child,
no less pleased with the religious feeling which had called forth their
warm approbation, and which they distinctly expressed, than delighted as
they were with the poetic feeling (for thus their partial fondness
adjudged) with which it was written; considering it as no unfavourable
specimen of the expanding powers of a youthful mind. Adelaide was
infinitely far more delighted by this praise of her parents, an incense
so grateful to her heart, than any aspirant to fame in these our
degenerate days could receive from the partial praise and prejudiced
columns of any literary critick.
Time rapidly moved onward, the winter had passed over with an uncommon
mildness; but the spring, which had now succeeded, proved unusually
harsh, tardy, and severe. The cold north-east wind had incessantly
blown, and vegetation had consequently been chillingly repelled; while
the usual flowers that form the chaplet of spring were chained in their
petals, or wholly destroyed by the frost. And when the merry month of
June arrived, it was indeed unusual and extraordinary to behold the
blossoms of the wild rose, hawthorn, and the laburnum, all mingling
their beauties and their perfumes amid the numerous hedge-rows, and
presenting a diversified mass of colours and foliage, like to the bloom
of a Russian spring, when, melted by a genial vernal sun, trees, plants,
and flowers bud, and immediately burst forth into luxuriant and varied
vegetation; the annual resurrection of nature vigorously springing forth
in renovated youth from the tomb of winter!
One morning while Lady Adelaide was seated in the library reading some
interesting work with that deep attention and wrapt enthusiasm with
which she always dwelt upon a book of merit, she was suddenly
interrupted in her studies by the approach of that important person, (as
in her own estimation she considered herself;) we here speak of the
redoubtable Mrs. Judith Braingwain, who, rushing incontinently into the
library, and quite out of breath, exclaimed, "Oh, my Lady, who would
have thought it? But however marvellous it is, see, yonder they come;
see, there they are, Bishop Rocket along with his tall wife, who, by the
bye, is hardy as a seagull; and, moreover, a whole flock, aye, a
beautiful bevy of dainty damozels besides! See, my Lady, there--there
they are; they are now just entering the porch; aye, there they come,
sure enough!"
"How strange!" replied Lady Adelaide, "we left them at Tyrconnel; what
unaccountable anomaly brings the bishop and family from his palace to
this retired spot?"
Here Mrs. Judith catching at the word _anomaly_, and wholly
uncomprehending it, while she thought proper to confound its meaning,
thus rejoined:--"Anne O'Mally! Oh yes, my dear young Lady, just as if
now before my eyes, I ken that sweet and charming creature, worth a
whole fleet and cargo of such like ladies as Dame Rocket. I remember, ay
faith do I, she was the finest----Oh no, not the finest--that belongs to
another; but as fine a girl as a body might see on a fair May-day in
ould Connaught, any how! And beside, and moreover, she was right loyally
discended [lineally descended] from the great bould pirate princess,
Grace O'Malley, in troth, and sure enough, far and near, and abroad and
at home, far better known, mavourneen, by the famous name of Grana Uile,
who (it is a storical fact) visited Elizabeth,[18] the grand and
conquering queen of all England, in her gallipot [galliot,] afar across
the salt water seas. Oh, Lady Adelaide! Anne O'Malley was indeed a
promising young lady--the finest----"
[18] Queen Elizabeth received her graciously at court, and offered
to create her a Countess.--See _Notes_ v. III.
"Nay, nay, nurse," said Lady Adelaide, "be not so flippant in thy
praise, else I shall grow positively jealous. I therefore must stop you
just now, for it seems your tongue runs riot quite with your discretion;
and has bounced off at a tangent in full gallop, jumping pell-mell, hop
and step, from the young and lovely Anne O'Malley to grey-head old
Grana Uile, (of neither of whom, by the bye, did I speak,) until in most
crab-like motion you pounce upon the majestic Elizabeth; and all this
in most manifest and notable contempt of time, place, and circumstance.
This really is not to be endured. Besides, I pray you to remember, that
_once_, however, _there was a time_ when no one was so handsome, so
good, and all so angelic and so forth, as _your own Adelaide_! And, in
undisguised truth, I was in a very fair and hopeful way of being utterly
spoiled, but that happily I turned a deaf and obdurate ear to all your
too partial praise, as well I knew that your commendations all sprung
from overweening kindness. However, just now I am happy to find that you
are converted from your former heresies, and that at length you behold
your poor idol in its mortal shape, imbued with all its natural and
perverse imperfections; and that you are now free to confess that, in
sooth, I am not, as I never was, that angel of excellence, and that
paragon of beauty, which your early devotions conceived me to be. You
have broken your idol, and it has fallen from the pedestal upon which
you had proudly placed it, shivered into atoms on the earth!"
This Lady Adelaide said in a playful way, half pretendedly serious, and
the other half wholly comic.
"Ah, my dear young Lady! and so you are still the idol of goodness, and
the very dragon of beauty! none who ever saw you, who ever knew you, can
think otherwise; this I ever thought you were; and I defy Guy of Warwig,
the seven Champions of Chrysostom, and Saint Patrick himself, to boot,
to deny it if they durst, but that you are the best, the brightest, and
finest young lady in the 'varsal world; and I challenge ould England and
ould Ireland to gainsay me!
It now becomes necessary to say a word or two of this said Bishop
Rocket, who came a visitor to the Duke. Patronage--all powerful
patronage--had placed the mitre upon his brow, as it too often has done
upon the head of many an unmeritorious aspirant to the hierarchy. His
classic acquirements and literary attainments will best be told by the
subsequent details:--Three friends who came to dine _en famille_ one day
at his house in Dublin, sat down, previously to dinner, to play a snug
rubber of whist, thus to pass the intermediate time. It happened to be
of a Friday, during a parliament winter; the printed proceedings of the
House of Lords of the preceding day were brought in, and, as is always
the case, the day of the week and the date of the month surmounted the
top of the page, as the head and front of these transactions. It ran
thus:--"_Die jovis_," &c. "What?" inquired the prelate, addressing one
whom his Lordship considered as the most classic of the trio, "pray,
what is the meaning of _Die jovis_?"
And in order that such of our fair readers who are not conversant with
the Latin tongue may not burst in ignorance with the hierarchical
inquirant, we shall give, _in totidem verbis_, the answer of the learned
Theban, the bishop's friend:--"Why, my good Lord," said the facetious
gentleman, smiling withal, "'fore Jove, my Lord, the two words conjoined
mean nothing more nor less than _Thursday_! upon which day your Lordship
gave your _benedicite_ to the House of Peers!"
His Lordship lost the odd trick, looked all quite discomposed; nor did
he recover himself again until the sumptuous and savoury dinner smoked
upon the board.
Bishop Rocket had enlarged the palace at the See-house of----and had
built, or caused to be built, with his usual want of tact and judgment,
a grand and heavy portico, which fronted the north! Upon the final
completion of this most notable and extraordinary structure the prelate
seemed quite pleased; in which it was conceived that he remained solely
in the singular number. However, he thought fit most condescendingly to
write to a friend, then residing at Rome, a long letter, the burden of
which ran to the following tenor:--"Now, dear and Reverend Sir, as you
are seated, or I, who am a bishop, may say, enthroned at the fountain
head of the fine arts, I have to request that you would have the
goodness to purchase for me twelve statues of the heathen gods and
goddesses to adornate my grand portico, which I have built at an immense
expense; and it is allowed by all the curates in my diocese to have been
accomplished with no inconsiderable portion of taste! And by so doing
you will vastly oblige me."
The Reverend friend thus wrote back a letter, the chief paragraph of
which, in reply to Bishop Rocket, ran to this effect:--"Most dear and
Right Reverend Lord, as your Lordship requires the statues which you
specify, to adorn the portico of a Christian bishop's palace, what would
your Lordship think--(and oh, good, my Lord, I pray you not to be
offended at the voice of truth, which is seldom heard with patience
either within the precincts of courts or the palaces of
prelates!)--what, I pray, my Lord, would you think if I should select
for you, instead of the heathen gods of antiquated Greece and Rome,
_videlicet_: Jupiter, Vulcan, Mars, Venus, Apollo, Bacchus, and Co.,
shall I, most dear and Reverend Lord, transmit to you statues of the
twelve apostles, which surely, most venerated Prelate, you will find to
be, upon mature deliberation, every way far more episcopal, apostolical,
more in good taste, and indeed I must add, quite orthodox. And
assuredly, my good Lord, I feel, and am most fully confident to say and
pronounce it, that the Reverend Head of the holy see would most freely
and cheerfully acquiesce in yielding his assent and consent to permit
these said apostolical statues to be removed and transported to 'the
Island of Saints,' so soon as His Holiness shall be informed that these
stone-sculptured saints are destined for a brother bishop!"
But know, gentle reader, that Bishop Rocket, whatever might have been
the cause, never even deigned to return any answer to this remonstrative
letter of his too candid friend; and here consequently the proposal fell
to the ground, and never was again resumed. The portico, however, still
stood, presenting its dark _facadè_ to the bleak northern blast,
unsurmounted by statue either mythological or apostolical.
Mrs. Rocket _had been_--we must speak here historically in the past
tense--had once been a fine woman, and still a portion of that beauty,
though somewhat clipped by the shears of old Father Chronos, still
remained. It was this attracted the bishop when only a curate, and
"Passing rich on forty pounds a year."
But all powerful love, whose transcendant sway remains undisputed from
the days of the Teian bard down to those of the mighty minstrel of our
own time, in whose own words we are told,
"Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
And men below, and saints above,
For love is heaven, and heaven is love!"
This potent urchin slily sprung a shaft, which securely settled in the
curate's reverend breast, but which was not long permitted by the
compassionate lady hopelessly to rankle in the bosom of her accepted
mate; for ere long the "happy, happy pair" were indissolubly united in
the bands of holy wedlock. Some folks however, and, by the bye, not few
in number, gave it as their opinion, that the lady happening to be the
niece and nearest relative to the bishop of----who was unmarried, and
besides much attached to his niece, that there appeared to be more of
prudent calculation for the future, than ardent love at the present, in
the transaction; inasmuch, that a large portion of the uncle's fortune,
if not the entire, would ultimately vest in the selected fair one; and
perchance, moreover, a rich benefice to boot, which might be expected
from his Lordship's great episcopal patronage, that in the developement
of time would be bestowed upon Curate Rocket. And all these conjectures,
in due and ordinary course, finally and fully occurred. Indeed, in
confirmation of these conjectures, there existed an additional cause for
nobody's doubting the truth of this popular surmise; it was no less a
cogent reason than this, that the lady was by some ten years, at least,
elder than the man to whom she was affianced. This was indeed an
objection not to be overruled by any thesis or syllogism of the schools;
there was here
"No quirk left, no quiddit,"
to defeat its truth. It was in contradiction to sense, to propriety,
and meet discretion. Upon this subject thus speaks the immortal
Shakespeare, the great moral bard, and poet of nature:--
"Too old, by heaven; let still the woman take
An elder than herself; so wears she to him,
So sways she level in her husband's heart.
For----however we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost or worn,
Than women's are!"
We must now attempt to present to the reader's eye a just description
of the peripatetic, or walking-dress, of Mrs. Rocket, which no doubt
pertained to a strange, peculiar, and extraordinary costume, which was
in vogue in the times to which we advert. Upon her head she wore a small
cap of Valenciennes lace, which was enveloped in a large and ponderous
machine, ycleped a _calash_; which was so denominated from its structure
and conformation, bearing a close similitude to the head or leather
covering of the French vehicle which is called by a similar name. This
structure was formed of various hoops of whalebone, arranged in
equidistant, semicircular, parallels, forming _en massè_ a huge and
outlandish head-gear; the outside was covered with black lutestring; and
the penultimate circle of this pent-house was adornated and fringed with
deep lace; the interior was lined with rose-coloured silk, which
artfully threw a bloom upon the wearer's visage, whether wife or widow.
This ponderous machine could be advanced or drawn back (like the head of
a modern barouche or landau) by the occupant _ad libitum_, according as
wind or weather permitted, or caprice might dictate. Likewise, with
equal facility, the head of the wearer might be wholly divested of this
incumbrance, which, in such a case, was handed over to the custody of
the attending lackey.
The reader will please to observe, that this head costume was prevalent
before the modern umbrella, or still more recent parasol came into
general use; and indeed, in some degree, so far as the covering of the
head was taken into calculation, this invention, strange though it may
at the present time appear, so far fully answered the functions and
intentions of these later discoveries of modern art. The lady wore a
large silk cloak, trimmed and flounced with ermine; she also carried a
muff, small in size and calibre, formed of the same materials. To these
were added, as the _materialè_ of her dress, a stiff flowered silk
mantua, supported upon a bell-hoop; an apron trimmed with lace; high
heeled shoes formed likewise a part of the dress, with the dangerous
appanage of pattens, long since exploded in these parts.
Such was the strange costume which formed the morning or peripatetic
habiliments of Mrs. Rocket. This lady also carried a walking-staff, or
cane; by this we do not, in any measure, mean to assimilate it to the
most formidable and terrific walking-staff once borne by the bluff king
Harry of tyrannic memory, and now exhibited in the tower of London with
sundry other curiosities that belong not to our province to enumerate.
No, gentle reader, the simple staff which the lady bore was of a most
placable description; it was, in sooth, a tall tapering indian cane, and
adorned on the top with a head of beautiful china porcelain, upon which,
in rich and brilliant colouring, were depicted some of the most
beautiful wild flowers of summer. And through every change of weather,
hail or snow, storm, rain, or sun-shine, was to be seen this
indefatigable pedestrian trudging her daily peregrinations. Often, when
remonstrated with for thus running the risk of catching cold, and so
forth, when in good humour, which was _not always_ the case, she was
wont to hum or troll forth an old ditty, one stave of which ran pretty
much to the following effect and tenor:--
Why at home should I budge,
Not abroad freely trudge,
My bairns and I altogether?
While my skin I don't grudge,
So be heav'n my judge!
To melt or to freeze with the weather.
Very often her temper was extremely cross, which she vented in scolding
the servants right and left, wrong or right; and Sunday being a day of
rest, was very often selected, with due circumspection, for this
wholesome exercise of her lungs. An auld Scottish steward, who
superintended the agricultural establishment, upon having auricular
proof how matters stood within the mansion, slily remarked: "Ah, wae to
the hoose where hens craw, and the cocks are silent!"
Madam Rocket had the reputation all throughout her husband's diocese of
being truly a most notable lady in every sublunary concern. She was
constituted as sole manageress of the entire home department at the
See-house of----; and it was there bruited abroad and around the
country far and near, that the "_omnia Romæ cum pretio_" of Juvenal,
might be fairly applied to Madam Rocket's establishment; but it was
insisted that the "_cito peritura_" did by no means belong to the lady.
However, rumour went on, with its gossip tongue, to whisper that at the
See-house of----every thing was vendible, from the produce of the
farm, the barn, the poultry-yard, the piggery, the dairy, the fruit and
flower garden--nay, even down to the kitchen garden; every article of
which was duly transmuted, as was insisted, into the _Regina Pecunia_.
The Bishop and his lady, albeit they were no favourites with the Duke
and Duchess, were nevertheless most hospitably invited, and even
pressed, according to the custom of the times, to remain to dinner, and
also to continue their guests for some days at Lætely Abbey. But this
was upon their part most gratefully declined. The Bishop and Mrs. Rocket
partook of a collation, and departed for Dublin, declining the warm and
hospitable invitation upon plea of business in the capital, and to
rejoin their family, who had been with them at Arklow for the benefit of
sea-bathing, and who had that morning proceeded on their way to the
metropolis.
During the residence of the vice-regal visitors in the county of
Wicklow, they visited all the romantic scenery and the various
picturesque views, each lofty mountain, retired valley, and secluded
stream or glen, within the precincts of that fairy region.
The lake of Luggelaw made a deep impression upon the Lady Adelaide. She
thus expressed her feelings upon viewing it: "It was," she said, "a
scene so sad, so lonely, and solitary; so wild, so rude, and
mountain-locked, that one here might almost imagine that they saw one of
the secluded pilgrims of Salvator Rosa studiously wrapt in silent
devotion, intent on the sacred volume which he held, and praying to his
Creator; the wilderness his temple, and his choir the roaring cataract
and the accompanying winds of heaven!"
"Vastly well, Adelaide," said the Duke, smiling with pleasure, "vastly
well, indeed; and now, my love, to complete your sketch, people these
craggy heights above us with three or four banditti; put helmets upon
their heads and lances in their firm hands; then on a sudden our whole
party, spurring onward our jaded steeds, are to fly from the attack; add
to this too to your sketch, and I really think it will be then a
finished _tableaux_, and quite in the due and terrific tone and style of
this great poetic painter."
Adelaide sweetly smiled, but replied not.
They next visited Glendalough, or the Seven Churches, and the "sweet
Vale of Ovoca." Ascending the high hill of Knockmokil, Adelaide, in
impromptu, repeated the following lines:--
Romantic spirit of this mountain glen
Tell the blest time we may here meet again!
Wilt thou to distant Aughnavanock stray,
Or wend, 'mid Lara's wilds, thy lonely way?
Or here ascend Knockmokil's lofty height,
Where vales transcendant burst upon the sight;
Sea, grove, and forest, rivers, all combine
Their matchless charms, to stamp the spot divine?
They next visited Loch Dan, the Demon's Glen and Waterfall, the
Waterfall of Powerscourt, &c. &c.
Lady Adelaide derived the greatest benefit from sea-bathing, and her
health became completely re-established, which one day called forth the
following eulogium from Sir Patricius Placebo; while engaged in
conversation with the Duchess, he observed, "Oh, my Lady, how truly
lovely the Lady Adelaide looks in renovated health and beauty! Each day
still adds to her charms; and, in verity, I should be fully justified to
speak of her in the words of the historic worthy, old Titus Livius,
(whose name, by the bye, the ridiculous French sink down into _Tit
Live_--just, my Lady, as if they were speaking of the little bird called
Tom Tit!) his words are these: '_Adulta virgo; adeo eximia, forma, ut
qûacunquè incedebat converteret omnium oculos_'--'An adult virgin of
such exquisite form, that wherever her steps were turned, thither with
delight the looks of all beholders were directed.'"
The Duchess duly curtsied, and thanked the Baronet for the classical
compliment which he had paid; and said, "that inasmuch as she was mother
to the object of his praise, she confessed that withal she was indeed
too partial to her beloved daughter to gainsay the polite eulogium of
Sir Patricius."
The Duke and Duchess determined to remain during each year for some
months at their delightful retreat amid the romantic beauties of the
county of Wicklow; this residence only to be interrupted by the
occasional absence of the Duke to hold a levee or a privy council at
Dublin Castle; the routine of state dinners, or when her Grace presided
at drawing-rooms, balls, &c. or in occasionally going in state to the
theatre royal, &c. &c. The autumnal months were passed at Tyrconnel
Castle, but the winter invariably was spent at Dublin Castle.
Thus days and months passed over, marked only in the calendar by health,
tranquillity, and social pleasure, without the occurrence of any event
of importance sufficient to be recorded here. Two years at this point of
time had passed over in peaceful serenity, Lady Adelaide daily improving
in the expansion of her mental powers, and in gradual increase of
personal beauty. The Duke, who had been long absent from Tyrconnel
Castle, proposed to pass the ensuing summer and autumn at that lordly
residence, and with all due pomp and solemnity there to celebrate
Adelaide's birth-day, who would at that time enter into her seventeenth
year; and from thence, these high ceremonials completed, his Grace
proposed to proceed to Dublin, to open the biennial session of
parliament: and preparations were immediately set on foot to carry these
intentions into effect.
During the absence of the noble proprietor Tyrconnel Castle had
undergone a thorough repair, and many judicious alterations and
improvements had taken place in the internal decoration of the castle,
as well as in the external adornment of the lawns, parks, and gardens of
this princely abode. Pursuant to their determination, their Graces set
out accordingly, upon a fine summer morning, on their journey to their
ancient castle; and the space of a week having been occupied in
travelling, the entire family of the Duke safely arrived at their
destination.
Adelaide was peculiarly delighted once more to behold the scenes of her
infancy, which to every feeling mind have indelible charms; and the
morning after her arrival at Tyrconnel she ascended the ramparts of the
castle, to review the surrounding prospect, so dear to her recollection.
It was a serene summer morning. Our readers perchance may recollect the
scenery which surrounds the castle of Tyrconnel, the lofty mountains of
Slieve-Doon, and the great gap or pass to the mountains, called
Barna-More, all of which we have endeavoured to describe in the second
chapter of this work. Adelaide's mind was fully in unison with the
serenity of the morning, and being deeply impressed with the poetic
impulse, she produced her tablets, and poured forth her tribute to the
_Genius Loci_, in the following
INVOCATION TO THE RIVER ESKE.
Roll onward, fierce torrent! roll on to the main!
What bastion or tow'r may thy billows restrain?
Resounds thy hoarse current's loud thundering roar
Round cloud-crested Slieve-Doon and wide Barna-More.[19]
How oft hath the foe-man deep plunged in thy wave,
Thy billows encrimsoned with blood of the brave!
These towers shall yet crumble, these rampires shall fall,
But thou, rapid Eske, be survivor of all!
While down to the confines of uncounted time,
Thy waters roll onward in measure sublime!
Swift emblem of LIFE, changing, flowing anew;
Still the symbol thou art of eternity too!
Unceasing thy current, impetuous thy force,
Speeding on, full-tiding thy unaltered course:
Still glide, regal stream! let thy bright waters flow,
And foam 'gainst these bastions, which frown'd on the foe.
Oh, murmuring Eske! from thy deep rocky bed,
O'er dream of my childhood sweet charms thou has
shed,
Whilst gurgling thy waters, to sleep lulled my head!
Nor shall mem'ry ever her pencil withdraw
From thy waters, bright Eske, and thy
heights, proud Tyraugh!
Flow on, rapid Eske! still roll in commotion;
Unite thy deep foam with the wave of the ocean!
[19] _i. e._ The great gap, or pass to the mountains.
Time onward rapidly fled on downy pinions, and the birth-day of the
Lady Adelaide, which occurred upon the Eve of All-Hallows, was now fast
approaching, in celebration of which most magnificent preparations were
making, had been made, and were in a progressive state of continuation
at this hospitable chateau. The Duke and Duchess seemed fully resolved
to spare no expense to testify, if indeed it were at all necessary so to
do, their love and attachment to an amiable and affectionate daughter,
who was most truly worthy of her parents' love, and of every respect and
honour that could be awarded her.
CHAPTER VIII.
Vetus opinio est, jam usque ab heroicis ducta temporibus,
Eaque et populi Romani et omnium gentium firmata
Consensu, versari quandam inter homines divinationem
Quam Græci MANTIKE appellant,
Id est, præsensionem, et scientiam rerum futurarum.
CICERO, DE DIVINATIONE.
The thirty-first day of October, _anno salutis_ sixteen hundred and
----, being the Eve of All-Hallows, happened also to be the anniversary
of the birth-day of our heroine, which was duly to be celebrated upon
this memorable day with more than its accustomed splendour, as we have
already premised in the foregoing chapter.
Adelaide had now entered her seventeenth year; so rapidly doth old
father Time speed along, borne upon his ever fugitive wings, verifying
the truly appropriate motto that we have somewhere seen engraved upon
the dial of a clock, "DUM SPECTAS, FUGIO!"--"while you look on, I fly!"
Mrs. Judith Braingwain, Lady Adelaide's nurse and foster-mother, and who
from the very beginning seemed resolved not to hold a subordinate place
in the back ground of our story, but firmly determined to carry matters
on in somewhat a consequential way, had now become her young Lady's
_femme de chambre_, and was ever and had been on the alert in instilling
into her youthful and susceptible mind the superstitions of her native
isle; and these stories, daily and hourly as they were repeated, did not
fail to make an impression upon a youthful and romantic mind. This
morning, at an early hour, she attended upon her young lady and
foster-child, a title she was pre-eminently proud of using upon all
occasions. The Irish have been ever proverbial for loving their
foster-children even beyond their own, and the ancient crone who made
her appearance was a living proof of the truth of the assertion. Mrs.
Braingwain having respectfully and affectionately congratulated her
noble foster-child upon the anniversary of her birth, entered into a
long and elaborate series of reminiscences of all the sad and mournful
events which had happened to herself and others upon the Eve of
All-Hallows. But as we are inclined to imagine that the old lady's
melancholy ditties are not very likely to awaken an interest and
sympathy in the reader's breast, we have therefore magnanimously
determined to suppress them altogether.
The loquacious old dame continued her long-winded reminiscences without
the slightest compunction of mercy or conscience, until interrupted by
the tolling forth of the breakfast bell, which luckily saved the Lady
Adelaide from further prolixity, by at once silencing the garulous old
nurse, whom she regarded from her early years, and wished not to offend.
Adelaide rejoiced at the timely interruption that cut short the prosings
of the old crone, and promptly descended to the breakfast-room.
A number of young people of both sexes were invited to dinner, to
celebrate Adelaide's birth-day; and the party was to be enlarged in the
evening by an invitation to crack nuts at the castle, which was sure to
include the _nucleus_ of a good supper. All the principal persons of
distinction for several miles around the castle were invited, and all
with alacrity obeyed the festive summons.
Lady Adelaide, although not always much interested upon such festivals,
yet upon this occasion manifested some degree of anxiety, which was
caused no doubt by that noble generosity of character which she so
eminently possessed, and ever invariably felt greater pleasure in the
gratification of her friends, than in being person
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