LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIS THE -\ PURCELL PAPERS. BY THE LATE JOSEPH SHERIDAN LE FANU, AUTHOR OF 'UNCLE SILAS.' Jith a jftenurir hg ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. HI. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, in ffirbtnarg to ^g«r J&tjestg the «B«cen. 1880. LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIS CONTENTS OF VOL. III. JIM SULIVAN'S ADVENTURES IN THE GEEAT SNOW . . . . .1 A CHAPTER IN THE HISTORY OF A TYRONE FAMILY . . . . .29 AN ADVENTURE OF HARDRESS FITZGERALD, A ROYALIST CAPTAIN . . .136 'THE QUARE GANDER' . . . . 225 BILLY MALOWNEY'S TASTE OF LOVE AND GLORY 251 THE PUKCELL' PAPEES, JIM SULIVAN'S ADVENTURES IN THE GREAT SNOW. Being a Ninth Extract from the Legacy of the late Francis Purcell, P.P. of Drumcoolagh. IM SULIVAN was a dacent, honest boy as you'd find in the seven parishes, an' he was a beautiful singer, an' an illegant dancer intirely, an' a mighty plisant boy in him- self; but he had the divil's bad luck, for VOL. in. 1 Jim Sulivan's Adventures. he married for love, an 'av coorse he niver had an asy minute afther. Nell Gorman was the girl he fancied, an' a beautiful slip of a girl she was, jist twinty to the minute when he married her. She was as round an' as complate in all her shapes as a firkin, you'd think, an' her two cheeks was as fat an' as red, it id open your heart to look at them. But beauty is not the thing all through, an' as beautiful as she was she had the divil's tongue, an' the divil's timper, an' the divil's behaviour all out; an' it was impossible for him to be in the house with her for while you'd count tin without havin' an argymint, an' as sure as she riz an argymint with him she'd hit him a wipe iv a skillet or whatever lay next to her hand. Well, this wasn't at all plasin' to Jim Jim Sullivan's Adventures. Sulivan you may be sure, an' there was scarce a week that his head wasn't plas- thered up, or his back bint double, or his nose swelled as big as a pittaty, with the vilence iv her timper, an' his heart was scalded everlastin'ly with her tongue; so he had no pace or quietness in body or soul at all at all, with the way she was goin' an. Well, your honour, one cowld snowin' evenin' he kim in afther his day's work regulatin' the men in the farm, an' he sat down very quite by the fire, for he had a scrimmidge with her in the mornin', an' all he wanted was an air iv the fire in pace; so divil a word he said but dhrew a stool an' sat down close to the fire. Well, as soon as the woman saw him, 'Move aff,' says she, 'an' don't be in- thrudin' an the fire,' says she. 1—2 Jim Sulivaris Adventures. Well, he kept never mindin', an' didn't let an' to hear a word she was sayin', so she kim over an' she had a spoon in her hand, an' she took jist the smallest taste in life iv the boilin' wather out iv the pot, an' she dhropped it down an his shins, an' with that he let a roar you'd think the roof id fly aff iv the house. 'Hould your tongue, you barbarrian,' says she; 'you'll waken the child,' says she. 'An' if I done right,' says he, for the spoonful of boilin' wather riz him entirely, 'I'd take yourself,' says he, 'an' I'd stuff you into the pot an the fire, an' boil you,' says he, 'into castor oil,' says he. 'That's purty behavour,' says she; 'it's fine usage you're givin' me, isn't it?' says she, gettin' wickeder every minute; 'but before I'm boiled,' says she, 'thry how you Jim Sulivans Adventures. like thatj says she; an', sure enough, before he had time to put up his guard, she hot him a rale terrible clink iv the iron spoon acrass the jaw. 'Hould me, some iv ye, or I'll murdher her,' says he. 'Will you?' says she, an' with that she hot him another tin times as good as the first. 'By jabers,' says he, slappin' himself behind, 'that's the last salute you'll ever give me,' says he; 'so take my last blessin',' says he, 'you ungovernable baste!' says he—an' with that he pulled an his hat an' walked out iv the door. Well, she never minded a word he said, for he used to say the same thing all as one every time she dhrew blood; an' she had no expectation at all but he'd come back by the time supper id be ready ; but Jin i Sulivaris Adventures. faix the story didn't go quite so simple this time, for while he was walkin', lonesome enough, down the borheen, with his heart almost broke with the pain, for his shins an' his jaw was mighty troublesome, av course, with the thratement he got, who did he see but Mick Hanlon, his uncle's sarvint by, ridin' down, quite an asy, an the ould black horse, with a halter as long as himself. 'Is that Mr. Soolivan?' says the by, says he, as soon as he saw him a good bit aff. 'To be sure it is, ye spalpeen, you,' says Jim, roarin' out; 'what do you want wid me this time a-day?' says he. 'Don't you know me?' says the gos- soon, 'it's Mick Hanlon that's in it,' says he. 'Oh, blur an agers, thin, it's welcome Jim Sulivan's Adventures. you are, Micky asthore,' says Jim; 'how is all wid the man an' the woman beyant?' says he. 'Oh!' says Micky, 'bad enough,' says he; 'the ould man's jist aff, an' if you don't hurry like shot,' says he, 'he'll be in glory before you get there,' says he. 'It's jokin' ye are,' says Jim, sorrowful enough, for he was mighty partial to his uncle intirely. 'Oh, not in the smallest taste,' says Micky; 'the breath was jist out iv him,' says he, 'when I left the farm. "An'," says he, "take the ould black horse," says he, "for he's shure-footed for the road," says he, "an' bring Jim Soolivan here," says he, "for I think I'd die asy af I could see him onst,' says he.' 'Well,' says Jim, 'will I have time,' says he, 'to go back to the house, for it would 8 Jim Sulivaris Adventures. be a consolation,' says he, 'to tell the bad news to the woman?' says he. 'It's too late you are already,' says Micky, ' so come up behind me, for God's sake,' says he, 'an' don't waste time;' an' with that he brought the horse up beside the ditch, an' Jim Soolivan mounted up behind Micky, an' they rode off; an' tin good miles it was iv a road, an' at the other side iv Keeper intirely; an' it was snowin' so fast that the ould baste could hardly go an at all at all, an' the two bys an his back was jist like a snowball all as one, an' al- most fruz an' smothered at the same time, your honour; an' they wor both mighty Borrowful intirely, an' their toes almost dhroppin' aff wid the could. And when Jim got to the farm his uncle was gettin' an illegantly, an' he was sittin' up sthrong an' warm in the bed, an' im- Jim Sulivans Adventures. 9 provin' every minute, an' no signs av dyin' an him at all at all; so lie had all his throuble for nothin'. But this wasn't all, for the snow kem so thick that it was impassible to get along the roads at all at all; an' faix, instead iv gettin' betther, next mornin' it was only tin times worse ; so Jim had jist to take it asy, an' stay wid his uncle antil such times as the snow id melt. Well, your honour, the evenin' Jim Soo- livan wint away, whin the dark was closin' in, Nell Gorman, his wife, beginned to get mighty anasy in herself whin she didn't see him comin' back at all; an' she was gettin' more an' more frightful in herself every minute till the dark kem an, an' divil a taste iv her husband was coming at all at all. 'Oh!' says she, 'there's no use in pur- Jim Sulivans Adventures. 11 says she, 'it's not to go hide himself he would,' says she. Well, they went as well as they could, rummagin' through the snow, antil, at last, what should they come to, sure enough, but the corpse of a poor thravelling man, that fell over the quarry the night before by rason of the snow and some liquor he had, maybe; but, at any rate, he was as dead as a herrin', an' his face was knocked all to pieces jist like an over-boiled pitaty, glory be to God; an' divil a taste iv a nose or a chin, or a hill or a hollow from one end av his face to the other but was all as flat as a pan- cake. An' he was about Jim Soolivan's size, an' dhressed out exactly the same, wid a ridin' coat an' new corderhoys; so they car- ried him home, an' they were all as sure as daylight it was Jim Soolivan himself, an' they were wondhering he'd do sich a 12 Jim Sulivan's Adventures, dirty turn as to go kill himself for spite. "Well, your honour, they waked him as well as they could, with what neighbours they could git togither, but by rason iv the snow, there wasn't enough gothered to make much divarsion ; however it was a plisint wake enough, an' the churchyard an' the priest bein' convanient, as soon as the youngsthers had their bit iv fun and divar- sion out iv the corpse, they burried it with- out a great'dale iv throuble ; an' about three days afther the berrin, ould Jim Mallowney, from th'other side iv the little hill, her own cousin by the mother's side—he had a snug bit iv a farm an' a house close by, by the same token—kem walkin' in to see how she was in her health, an' he dhrew a chair, an' he sot down an' beginned to convarse her about one thing an' another, antil he got Jim Sulivaris Adventures. 13 her quite an' asy into middlin' good humour, an' as soon as he seen it was time: 'I'm wondherin', says he, 'Nell Gorman, sich a handsome, likely girl, id be thinkin' iv nothin' but lamintin' an' the likes,' says he, 'an' lingerin' away her days without any consolation, or gettin' a husband,' says he. 'Oh,' says she, 'isn't it only three days since I hurried the poor man,' says she, 'an' isn't it rather soon to be talkin iv marryin' agin?' 'Divil a taste,' says he, 'three days is jist the time to a minute for cryin' afther a hus- band, an' there's no occasion in life to be keepin' it up,' says he; 'an'besides all that,' says he, ' Shrovetide is almost over, an' if you don't be sturrin' yourself an' lookin' about you, you'll be late,' says he, 'for this 14 Jim Sulivan's Adventures. year at any rate, an' that's twelve months lost; an' who's to look afther the farm all that time,' says he, 'an' to keep the men to their work?' says he. 'It's thrue for you, Jim Mallowney,' says she, 'but I'm afeard the neighbours will be all talkin' about it,' says she. 'Divil's cure to the word,' says he. 'An' who would you advise?' says she. 'Young Andy Curtis is the boy,' says he. 'He's a likely boy in himself/ says she. 'An' as handy a gossoon as is out,' says he. 'Well, thin, Jim Mallowney,' says she, 'here's my hand, an' you may be talkin' to Andy Curtis, an' if. he's willin' I'm agreeble—is that enough?' says she. So with that he made off with himself straight to Andy Curtis; an' before three days 16 Jim Sulivans Adventures. Well, a week passed over smart enough, an' Nell an' her new husband was mighty well continted with one another, for it was too soon for her to begin to regulate him the way she used with poor Jim Soolivan, so they wor comfortable enough; but this was too good to last, for the thaw kem an, an' you may be sure Jim Soolivan didn't lose a minute's time as soon as the heavy dhrift iv snow was melted enough between him and home to let him pass, for he didn't hear a word iv news from home sinst he lift it, by rason that no one, good nor bad, could thravel at all, with the way the snow was dhrifted. So one night, when Nell Gorman an' her new husband, Andy Curtis, was snug an' warm in bed, an' fast asleep, an' every- thing quite, who should come to the door, sure enough, but Jim Soolivan himself, Jim Sulivaris Adventures. 17 an' he beginned flakin' the door wid a big blackthorn stick he had, an' roarin' out like the. divil to open the door, for he had a dhrop taken. 'What the divil's the matther?' says Andy Curtis, wakenin' out iv his sleep. 'Who's batin' the door?' says Nell; 'what's all the noise for?' says she. 'Who's in it?' says Andy. 'It's me,' says Jim. 'Who are you?' says Andy; 'what's your name?' 'Jim Soolivan,' says he. 'By jabers, you lie,' says Andy. 'Wait till I get at you,' says Jim, hittin' the door a lick iv the wattle you'd hear half a mile off. 'It's him, sure enough,' says Nell; 'I know his speech; it's his wandherin' sowl VOL. in. '2 18 Jim Sulivaris Adventures. that can't get rest, the crass o' Christ betune us an' harm.' 'Let me in,' says Jim, 'or I'll dhrive the door in a top iv yis. 'Jim Soolivan—Jim Soolivan,' says Nell, sittin' up in the bed, an' gropin' for a quart bottle iv holy wather she used to hang by the back iv the bed, 'don't come in, darlin' —there'§ holy wather here,' says she; 'but tell me from where you are is there any- thing that's throublin' your poor sinful sowl?' says she. 'An' tell me how many masses 'ill make you asy, an' by this crass, I'll buy you as many as you want,' says she. 'I don't know what the divil you mane,' says Jim. 'Go back,' says she, 'go back to glory, for God's sake,' says she. 'Divil's cure to the bit iv me 'ill go back to glory, or anywhere else,' says he, 'this Jim Sulivaris Adventures. 19 blessed night; so open the door at onst' an' let me in,' says he. 'The Lord forbid/ says she. 'By jabers, you'd betther,' says he, 'or it 'ill be the worse for you,' says he; an' wid that he fell to wallopin' the door till he was fairly tired, an' Andy an' his wife crassin' themselves an' sayin' their prayers for the bare life all the time. 'Jim Soolivan,' says she, as soon as he was done, 'go back, for God's sake, an' don't be freakentn' me an' your poor father- less childhren,' says she. 'Why, you bosthoon, you,' says Jim, 'won't you let your husband in,' says he, 'to his own house?' says he. 'You wor my husband, sure enough,' says she, 'but it's well you know, Jim Soblivan, you're not my husband now,' says she. 2—'2 20 Jim Sulivan's Adventures. 'You're as dhrunk as can be consaved,' says Jim. 'Go back, in God's name, pacibly to your grave,' says Nell. 'By my sowl, it's to my grave you'll sind me, sure enough,' says he, 'you hard- hearted bain', for I'm jist aff wid the cowld,' says he. 'Jim Sulivan,' says she, 'it's in your dacent coffin you should be, you unfor- thunate sperit,' says she; 'what is it's annoyin' your sowl, in the wide world, at all?' says she; 'hadn't you everything complate ?' says she, 'the oil, an' the wake, an' the berrin' ?' says she. 'Och, by the hoky,' says Jim, 'it's too long I'm makin' a fool iv mysilf, gostherin' wid you outside iv my own door,' says he, 'for it's plain to be seen,' says he, 'you don't know what your're sayin', an' Jim Sulivan's Adventures. 21 no one else knows what you mane, you unforthunate fool,' says he; 'so, onst for all, open the door quietly,' says he, 'or, by my sowkins, I'll not lave a splinther together,' says he. Well, whin Nell an' Andy seen he was getting vexed, they beginned to bawl out their prayers, with the fright, as if the life was lavin' them; an' the more he bate the door, the louder they prayed, until at last Jim was fairly tired out. 'Bad luck to you,' says he; 'for a rale divil av a woman,' says he. I * can't get any advantage av you, any way; but wait till I get hould iv you, that's all,' says he. An' he turned aff from the door, an' wint round to the cow-house, an' settled himself as well as he could, in the sthraw; an' he was tired enough wid the thravellin' he had in the day-time, an' 22 Jitn Sulivan's Adventures. a good dale bothered with what liquor he had taken; so he was purty sure of sleepin' wherever he thrun himself. But, by my sowl, it wasn't the same way with the man an' the woman in the house— for divil a wink iv sleep, good or bad, could they get at all, wid the fright iv the sperit, as they supposed; an' with the first light they sint a little gossoon, as fast as he could wag, straight off, like a shot, to the priest, an' to desire him, for the love o' God, to come to them an the minute, an' to bring, if it was plasm' to his raverence, all the little things he had for sayin' mass, an' savin' sowls, an' banishin' sperits, an' freakenin' the divil, an' the likes iv that. An' it wasn't long till his raverence kem down, sure enough, on the ould grey mare, wid the little mass-boy behind him, an' the prayer-books an" Bibles, an' all the other Jim Sulivan's Adventures. !23 mystarious articles that was wantin', along wid him; an' as soon as he kem in, ' God save all here,' says he. 'God save ye, kindly, your raverence,' says they. 'An' what's gone wrong wid ye ?' says he; 'ye must be very bad,' says he, 'en- tirely, to disturb my devotions,' says he, 'this way, jist at breakfast-time,' says he. 'By my sowkins,' says Nell, 'it's bad enough we are, your raverence,' says she, 'for it's poor Jim's sperit,' says she; 'God rest his sowl, wherever it is,' says she, ' that was wandherin' up an' down, opossite the door all night,' says she, 'in the way it was no use at all, thryin' to get a wink iv sleep,' says she. 'It's to lay it, you want me, I suppose/ says the priest. 24 Jim Sulivan's Adventures. 1 If your raverence 'id do that same, it 'id be plasin' to us,' says Andy. 'It'll be rather expinsive,' says the priest. 'We'll not differ about the price, your raverence,' says Andy. 'Did the sperit stop long?' says the priest. 'Most part iv the night,' says Nell, 'the Lord be merciful to us all!' says she. 'That'll make it more costly than I thought,' says he. 'An' did it make much noise ?' says he. 'By my sowl, it's it that did,' says Andy; 'leatherin' the door wid sticks and stones,' says he, 'antil I fairly thought every minute,' says he, 'the ould boords id smash, an' the sperit id be in an top iv us—God bless us,' says he. Jim Sulivaris Adventures. 25 'Phiew!' says the priest; 'it'll cost a power iv money.' 'Well, your raverence,' says Andy, 'take whatever you like,' says he; 'only make sure it won't annoy us any more,' says he. 'Oh ! by my sowkins,' says the priest, 'it'll be the quarest ghost in the siven parishes,' says he, 'if it has the courage to come back,' says he, 'afther what I'll do this mornin', plase God,' says he; 'so we'll say twelve pounds; an' God knows it's chape enough,' says he, 'considherin' all the sarcumstances,' says he. Well, there wasn't a second word to the bargain; so they paid him the money down, an' he sot the table down like an althar, before the door, an' he settled it out wid all the things he had wid him; an' he lit a bit iv a holy candle, an' he scathered 26 Jim Sulivan's Adventures. his holy wather right an' left; an' he took up a big book, an' he wint an readin' for half an hour, good; an' whin he kem to the end, he tuck hould iv his little bell, and he beginned to ring it for the bare life; an', by my sowl, he rung it so well, that he wakened Jim Sulivan in the cow- house, where he was sleepin', an' up he jumped, widout a minute's delay, an' med right for the house, where all the family, an' the priest, an' the little mass-boy was assimbled, layin' the ghost; an' as soon as his raverence seen him comin' in at the door, wid the fair fright, he flung the bell at his head, an' hot him sich a lick iv it in the forehead, that he sthretched him on the floor; but faix he didn't wait to ax any questions, but he cut round the table as if the divil was afther him, an' out at the door, an' didn't stop even as much as to Jim Sulivaris Adventures. 27 mount an his mare, but leathered away down the borheen as fast as his legs could carry him, though the mud was up to his knees, savin' your presence. Well, by the time Jim kem to himself, the family persaved the mistake, an' Andy wint home, lavin' Nell to make the explana- tion. An' as soon as Jim heerd it all, he said he was, quite contint to lave her to Andy, entirely; but the priest would not hear iv it; an' he jist med him marry his wife over again, an' a merry weddin' it was, an' a fine collection for his raverence. An' Andy was there along wid the rest, an' the priest put a small pinnance upon him, for bein' in too great a hurry to marry a widdy. An' bad luck to the word he'd allow anyone to say an the business, ever after, at all, at all; so, av coorse, no one offmded 28 Jim Sulivan's Adventures. his raverence, by spakin' iv the twelve pounds he got for layin' the spent. An' the neighbours wor all mighty well plased, to be sure, for gettin' all the divarsion of a wake, an' two weddin's for nothin'. A CHAPTER IN THE HISTORY OF A TYRONE FAMILY. Being a Tenth Extract from the Legacy of the late Francis Purcell, P.P. of Drumcoolagh. INTRODUCTION. the following narrative, I have endeavoured to give as nearly as possible the ipsissima verba of the valued friend from whom I received it, conscious that any aberration from her mode of telling the tale of her own life 30 A Chapter in the History would at once impair its accuracy and its effect. Would that, with her words, I could also bring before you her animated gesture, her expressive countenance, the solemn and thrilling air and accent with which she related the dark passages in her strange story; aud, above all, that I could com- municate the impressive consciousness that V the narrator had seen with her own eyes, and personally acted in the scenes which she described; these accompaniments, taken with the additional circumstance that she who told the tale was one far too deeply and sadly impressed with religious prin- ciple to misrepresent or fabricate what she repeated as fact, gave to the tale a depth of interest which the events recorded could hardly, themselves, have produced. I became acquainted with the lady from of a Tyrone Family. 31 whose lips I heard this narrative nearly twenty years since, and the story struck my fancy so much that I committed it to paper while it was still fresh in my mind; and should its perusal afford you enter- tainment for a listless half hour, my labour shall not have been bestowed in vain. I find that I have taken the story down as she told it, in the first person, and perhaps this is as it should be. She began as follows: My maiden name was Richardson,* the designation of a family of some distinction * I have carefully altered the names as they appear in the original MSS., for the reader will see that some of the circumstances recorded are not of a kind to reflect honour upon those involved in them; and as many are still living, in every way honoured and honour- able, who stand in close relation to the principal actors in this drama, the reader will see the necessity of the course which we have adopted. 32 A Chapter in the History in the county of Tyrone. I was the younger of two daughters, and we were the only children. There was a difference in our ages of nearly six years, so that I did not, in my childhood, enjoy that close companionship which sisterhood, in other circumstances, necessarily involves; and while I was still a child, my sister was married. The person upon whom she bestowed her hand was a Mr. Carew, a gentleman of property and consideration in the north of England. I remember well the eventful day of the wedding; the thronging carriages, the noisy menials, the loud laughter, the merry faces, and the gay dresses. Such sights were then new to me, and harmonised ill with the sorrowful feelings with which I re- garded the event which was to separate of a Tyrone Family. 33 me, as it turned out, for ever from a sister whose tenderness alone had hitherto more than supplied all that I wanted in my mother's affection. The day soon arrived which was to re- move the happy couple from Ashtown House. The carriage stood at the hall- door, and my poor sister kissed me again and again, telling me that I should see her soon. The carriage drov.e away, and I gazed after it until my eyes filled with tears, and, returning slowly to my chamber, I wept more bitterly and, so to speak, more de- solately, than ever I had done before. My father had never seemed to love or to take an interest in me. He had desired a son, and I think he never thoroughly forgave me my unfortunate sex. My having come into the world at all VOL. in. 3 34 A Chapter in the History as his child lie regarded as a kind of fraudulent intrusion, and as his antipathy to me had its origin in an imperfection of mine, too radical for removal, I never even hoped to stand high in his good graces. My mother was, I dare say, as fond of me as she was of anyone; but she was a woman of a masculine and a worldly cast of mind. She had no tenderness or sympathy for the weaknesses, or even for the affec- tions, of woman's nature, and her demeanour towards me was peremptory, and often even harsh. It is not to be supposed, then, that I found in the society of my parents much to supply the loss of my sister. About a year after her marriage, we received letters from Mr. Carew, containing accounts of my sister's health, which, though not actually of a Tyrone Family. 35 alarming, were calculated to make us seri- ously uneasy. The symptoms most dwelt upon were loss of appetite and cough. The letters concluded by intimating that he would avail himself of my father and mother's repeated invitation to spend some time at Ashtown, particularly as the physi- cian who had been consulted as to my sister's health had strongly advised a re- moval to her native air. There were added repeated assurances that nothing serious was apprehended, as it was supposed that a deranged state of the liver was the only source of the symp- toms which at first had seemed to intimate consumption. In accordance with this announcement, my sister and Mr. Carew arrived in Dublin, where one of my father's carriages awaited them, in readiness to start upon whatever 3—2 36 A Chapter in the History day or hour they might choose for their departure. It was arranged that Mr. Carew was, as soon as the day upon which they were to leave Dublin was definitely fixed, to write to my father, who intended that the two last stages should be performed by his own horses, upon whose speed and safety far more reliance might be placed than upon those of the ordinary post-horses, which were at that time, almost without exception, of the very worst order. The journey, one of about ninety miles, was to be divided ; the larger portion being reserved for the second day. On Sunday a letter reached us, stating that the party would leave Dublin on Monday, and, in due course, reach Ashtown upon Tuesday evening. Tuesday came: the evening closed in, and of a Tyrone Family. 37 yet no carriage; darkness came on, and still no sign of our expected visitors. Hour after hour passed away, and it was now past twelve; the night was remarkably calm, scarce a breath stirring, so that any sound, such as that produced by the rapid movement of a vehicle, would have been audible at a considerable distance. For some such sound I was feverishly listening. It was, however, my father's rule to close the house *at nightfall, and the window- shutters being fastened, I was unable to re- connoitre the avenue as I would have wished. It was nearly one o'clock, and we began almost to despair of seeing them upon that night, when I thought I distinguished the sound of wheels, but so remote and faint as to make me at first very uncertain. The noise approached; it became louder and clearer; it stopped for a moment. 38 A Chapter in the History I now heard the shrill screaming of the rusty iron, as the avenue-gate revolved on its hinges; again came the sound of wheels in rapid motion. 'It is they,' said I, starting up; 'the car- riage is in the avenue.' We all stood for a few moments breath- lessly listening. On thundered the vehicle with the speed of a whirlwind; crack went the whip, and clatter went the wheels, as it rattled over the uneven pavement of the court. A general and furious barking from all the dogs about the house, hailed its arrival. We hurried to the hall in time to hear the steps let down with the sharp clanging noise peculiar to the operation, and the hum of voices exerted in the bustle of arrival. The hall-door was now thrown open, and we all stepped forth to greet our visitors. of a Tyrone Family. 39 The court was perfectly empty; the moon was shining broadly and brightly upon all around; nothing was to be seen but the tall trees with their long spectral shadows, now wet with the dews of mid- night. We stood gazing from right to left, as if suddenly awakened from a dream ; the dogs walked suspiciously, growling and snuffing about the court, and by totally and sud- denly ceasing their former loud barking, expressing the predominance of fear. We stared one upon another in per- plexity and dismay, and I think I never beheld more pale faces assembled. By my father's direction, we looked about to find anything which might indicate or account for the noise which we had heard; but no such thing was to be seen—even the mire which lay upon the avenue was undisturbed. 40 A Chapter in the History We returned to the house, more panic-struck than I can describe. On the next day, we learned by a mes- senger, who had ridden hard the greater part of the night, that my sister was dead. On Sunday evening, she had retired to bed rather unwell, and, on Monday, her indispo- sition declared itself unequivocally to be malignant fever. She became hourly worse and, on Tuesday night, a little after mid- night, she expired.* * The residuary legatee of the late Frances Purcell, •who has the honour of selecting such of his lamented old friend's manuscripts as may appear fit for publica- tion, in order that the lore which they contain may reach the world before scepticism and utility have robbed our species of the precious gift of credulity, and scornfully kicked before them, or trampled into anni- hilation those harmless fragments of picturesque super- stition which it is our object to preserve, has been subjected to the charge of dealing too largely in the marvellous; and it has been half insinuated that such of a Tyrone Family. 41 I mention this circumstance, because it was one upon which a thousand wild and is his love for diablerie, that he is content to wander a mile out of his way, in order to meet a fiend or a goblin, and thus to sacrifice all regard for truth and accuracy to the. idle hope of affrighting the imagination, and thus pandering to the bad taste of his reader. He begs leave, then, to take this opportunity of asserting his perfect innocence of all the crimes laid to his charge, and to assure his reader that he never pandered to his bad taste, nor went one inch out of his way to introduce witch, fairy, devil, ghost, or any other of the grim frater- nity of the redoubted Kaw-head-and-bloody-bones. His province, touching these tales, has been attended with no difficulty and little responsibility; indeed, he is ac- countable for nothing more than an alteration in the names of persons mentioned therein, when such a step seemed necessary, and for an occasional note, whenever he conceived it possible, innocently, to edge in a word. These tales have been mitten down, as the heading of each announces, by the Eev. Francis Purcell, P.P., of Drumcoolagh; and in all the instances, which are many, in which the present writer has had an opportunity of comparing the manuscript of his departed friend with the actual traditions which are current amongst the of a Tyrone Family. 43 called amusements, grew upon me so strongly, that I have scarcely even yet altogether overcome them. We saw nothing more of Mr. Carew. He returned to England as soon as the melancholy rites attendant upon the event which I have just mentioned were per- formed; and not being altogether incon- solable, he married again within two years; after which, owing to the remoteness of our relative situations, and other circumstances, we gradually lost sight of him. I was now an only child; and, as my elder sister had died without issue, it was evident that, in the ordinary course of things, my father's property, which was altogether in his power, would go to me; and the consequence was, that before I was fourteen, Ashtown House was besieged by a host of suitors. However, whether it was of a Tyrone Family. 45 selves; and, at her suggestior, we moved to Dublin to sojourn for the winter, in order that no time might be lost in dis- posing of me to the best advantage. I had been too long accustomed to con- sider myself as of no importance whatever, to believe for a moment that I was in reality the cause of all the bustle and preparation which surrounded me, and being thus relieved from the pain which a consciousness of my real situation would have inflicted, I journeyed towards the capital with a feeling of total indifference. My father's wealth and connection had established him in the best society, and, consequently, upon our arrival in the me- tropolis we commanded whatever enjoy- ment or advantages its gaieties afforded. The tumult and novelty of the scenes in which I was involved did not fail con- 46 A Chapter in the History siderably to amuse me, and my mind gradually recovered its tone, which was naturally cheerful. It was almost immediately known and reported that I was an heiress, and of course my attractions were pretty generally acknowledged. Among the many gentlemen whom it was my fortune to please, one, ere long, established himself in my mother's good graces, to the exclusion of all less import- ant aspirants. However, I had not under- stood or even remarked his attentions, nor in the slightest degree suspected his or my mother's plans respecting me, when I was made aware of them rather abruptly by my mother herself. We had attended a splendid ball, given by Lord M——, at his residence in Ste- phen's Green, and I was, with the assist- of a Tyrone Family. 47 ance of my waiting-maid, employed in rapidly divesting myself of the rich orna- ments which, in profuseness and value, could scarcely have found their equals in any private family in Ireland. I had thrown myself into a lounging- chair beside the fire, listless and exhausted, after the fatigues of the evening, when I was aroused from the reverie into which I had fallen by the sound of footsteps ap- proaching my chamber, and my mother entered. 'Fanny, my dear,' said she, in her softest tone, 'I wish to say a word or two with you before I go to rest. You are not fatigued, love, I hope?' 'No, no, madam, I thank you,' said I, rising at the same time from my seat, with the formal respect so little practised now. 'Sit down, my dear,' said she, placing 48 A Chapter in the History herself upon a chair beside me; 'I must chat with you for a quarter of an hour or so. Saunders' (to the maid) 'you may leave the room; do not close the room-door, but shut that of the lobby.' This precaution against curious ears having been taken as directed, my mother proceeded. 'You have observed, I should suppose, my dearest Fanny—indeed, you must have observed Lord Glenfallen's marked atten- tions to you?' 'I assure you, madam 'I began. 'Well, well, that is all right,' interrupted my mother; 'of course you must be modest upon the matter; but listen to me for a few moments, my love, and I will prove to your satisfaction that your modesty is quite unnecessary in this case. You have done better than we could have hoped, of a Tyrone Family. 49 at least so very soon. Lord Glenfallen is in love with you. I give you joy of your conquest;' and saying this, my mother kissed my forehead. 'In love with me!' I exclaimed, in un- feigned astonishment. 'Yes, in love with you,' repeated my mother; 'devotedly, distractedly in love with you. Why, my dear, what is there wonderful in it? Look in the glass, and look at these,' she continued, pointing with a smile to the jewels which I had just re- moved from my person, and which now lay a glittering heap upon the table. 'May there not,' said I, hesitating be- tween confusion and real alarm—' is it not possible that some mistake may be at the bottom of all this?' 'Mistake, dearest! none,' said my mo- ther. 'None; none in the world. Judge VOL. in. 4 50 A Chapter in the History for yourself; read this, my love.' And she placed in my hand a letter, addressed to herself, the seal of which was broken. I read it through with no small surprise. After some very fine complimentary flour- ishes upon my beauty and perfections, as also upon the antiquity and high reputa- tion of our family, it went on to make a formal proposal of marriage, to be commu- nicated or not to me at present, as my mother should deem expedient; and the letter wound up by a request that the writer might be permitted, upon our return to Ashtown House, which was soon to take place, as the spring was now tolerably ad- vanced, to visit us for a few days, in case his suit was approved. 'Well, well, my dear,' said my mother, impatiently; 'do you know who Lord Glen- fillen is?' of a Tyrone Family. . 51 'I do, madam,' said I rather timidly, for I dreaded an altercation with my mother. 'Well, dear, and what frightens you?' continued she. 'Are you afraid of a title? What has he done to alarm you? he is neither old nor ugly.' I was silent, though I might have said, 'He is neither young nor handsome.' 'My dear Fanny,' continued my mother, 'in sober seriousness you have been most fortunate in engaging the affections of a nobleman such as Lord Glenfallen, young and wealthy, with first-rate—yes, acknow- ledged first-rate abilities, and of a family whose influence is not exceeded by that of any in Ireland. Of course you see the offer in the same light that I do—indeed I think you must? This was uttered in no very dubious tone. I was so much astonished by the 4—2 52 A Chapter in the History suddenness of the whole communication that I literally did not know what to say. 'You are not in love ?' said my mother, turning sharply, and fixing her dark eyes upon me with severe scrutiny. 'No, madam,' said I, promptly; horrified, as what young lady would not have been, at such a query. 'I'm glad to hear it,' said my mother, drily. 'Once, nearly twenty years ago, a friend of mine consulted me as to how he should deal with a daughter who had made what they call a love-match—beggared her- self, and disgraced her family; and I said, without hesitation, take no care for her, but cast her off. Such punishment I awarded for an offence committed against the reputation of a family not my own; and what I advised respecting the child of another, with full as small compunction of a Tyrone Family. 53 I would do with mine. I cannot conceive anything more unreasonable or intolerable than that the fortune and the character of a family should be marred by the idle caprices of a girl.' She spoke this with great severity, and paused as if she expected some observation from me. I, however, said nothing. 'But I need not explain to you, my dear Fanny,' she continued, 'my views upon this subject; you have always known them well, and I have never yet had reason to believe you likely, volun- tarily, to offend me, or to abuse or neglect any of those advantages which reason and duty tell you should be improved. Come hither, my dear; kiss me, and do not look so frightened. Well, now, about this letter, you need not answer it yet; 54 A Chapter in the History of course you must be allowed time to make up your mind. In the meantime I will write to his lordship to give him my permission to visit us at Ashtown. Good- night, my love.' And thus ended one of the most dis- agreeable, not to say astounding, con- versations I had ever had. It would not be easy to describe exactly what were my feelings towards Lord Glenfallen ;— whatever might have been my mother's suspicions, my heart was perfectly dis- engaged — and hitherto, although I had not been made in the slightest degree ac- quainted with his real views, I had liked him very much, as an agreeable, well- informed man, whom I was always glad to meet in society. He had served in the navy in early life, and the polish which his manners received in his after intercourse of a Tyrone Family. 55 with courts and cities had not served to obliterate that frankness of manner which belongs proverbially to the sailor. Whether this apparent candour went deeper than the outward bearing, I was yet to learn. However, there was no doubt that, as far as I had seen of Lord Glenfallen, he was, though perhaps not so young as might have been desired in a lover, a singularly pleasing man; and whatever feeling unfavourable to him had found its way into my mind, arose altogether from the dread, not an unreasonable one, that constraint might be practised upon my inclinations. I reflected, however, that Lord Glenfallen was a wealthy man, and one highly thought of; and although I could never expect to love him in the romantic sense of the term, yet I had no doubt but that, all things considered, I 56 A Chapter in the History might be more happy with him than I could hope to be at home. When next I met him it was with no small embarrassment, his tact and good breeding, however, soon reassured me, and effectually prevented my awkwardness being remarked upon. And I had the satisfaction of leaving Dublin for the country with the full conviction that nobody, not even those most intimate with me, even suspected the fact of Lord Glenfallen's having made me a formal proposal. This was to me a very serious subject of self-gratulation, for, besides my instinctive dread of becoming the topic of the specula- tions of gossip, I felt that if the situation which I occupied in relation to him were made publicly known, I should stand committed in a manner which would scarcely leave me the power of retraction. of a Tyrone Family. 57 The period at which Lord Glenfallen had arranged to visit Ashtown House was now fast approaching, and it became my mother's wish to form me thoroughly to her will, and to obtain my consent to the proposed marriage before 'his arrival, so that all things might proceed smoothly, without apparent opposition or objection upon my part. Whatever objections, there- fore, I had entertained were to be sub- dued ; whatever disposition to resistance I had exhibited or had been supposed to feel, were to be completely eradicated before he made his appearance; and my mother addressed herself to the task with a deci- sion and energy against which even the barriers, which her imagination had created, could hardly have stood. If she had, however, expected any deter- mined opposition from me, she was agree- 58 A Chapter in the History ably disappointed. My heart was perfectly free, and all my feelings of liking and preference were in favour of Lord Glen- fallen; and I well knew that in case I refused to dispose of myself as I was desired, my mother had alike the power and the will to render my existence as utterly miserable as even the most ill- assorted marriage could possibly have done. You will remember, my good friend, that I was very young and very completely under the control of my parents, both of whom, my mother particularly, were unscrupulously determined in matters of this kind, and willing, when voluntary obedience on the part of those within their power was withheld, to compel a forced acquiescence by an unsparing use of all the engines of the most stern and rigorous domestic discipline. 60 A Chapter in the History usage of the times, now humanely re- formed, the ceremony was made, until long past midnight, the season of wild, up- roarious, and promiscuous feasting and revelry. Of all this I have a painfully vivid recollection, and particularly of the little "annoyances inflicted upon me by the dull and coarse jokes of the wits and wags who abound in all such places, and upon all such occasions. I was not sorry when, after a few days, Lord Glenfallen's carriage appeared at the door to convey us both from Ashtown; for any change would have been a relief from the irksomeness of ceremonial and formality which the visits received in honour of my newly-acquired titles hourly entailed upon me. It was arranged that we were to proceed 62 A Chapter in the History front of some old rock, and exhibiting on their shelving sides, their slopes and hol- lows, every variety of light and shade; a thick wood of dwarf oak, birch, and hazel skirted these hills, and clothed the shores of the lake, running out in rich luxuriance upon every promontory, and spreading upward considerably upon the side of the hills. 'There lies the enchanted castle,' said Lord Glenfallen, pointing towards a con- siderable level space intervening between two of the picturesque hills, which rose dimly around the lake. This little plain was chiefly occupied by the same low, wild wood which covered the other parts of the domain; but towards the centre a mass of taller and statelier forest trees stood darkly grouped together, and among them stood an ancient square of a Tyrone Family. 63 tower, with many buildings of a humbler character, forming together the manor- house, or, as it was more usually called, the Court of Cahergillagh. As we approached the level upon which the mansion stood, the winding road gave us many glimpses of the time-worn castle and its surrounding buildings; and seen as it was through the long vistas of the fine old trees, and with the rich glow of evening upon it, I have seldom beheld an object more picturesquely striking. I was glad to perceive, too, that here and there the blue curling smoke ascended from stacks of chimneys now hidden by the rich, dark ivy which, in a great measure, covered the building. Other in- dications of comfort made themselves mani- fest as we approached ; and indeed, though the place was evidently one of considerable 64 A Chapter in the History antiquity, it had nothing whatever of the gloom of decay about it. 'You must not, my love,' said Lord Glenfallen, 'imagine this place worse than it is. I have no taste for antiquity—at least I should not choose a house to reside in be- cause it is old. Indeed I do not recollect that I wa.s even so romantic as to overcome my aversion to rats and rheumatism, those faithful attendants upon your noble relics of feudalism; and I much prefer a snug, modern, unmysterious bedroom, with well- aired sheets, to the waving tapestry, mil- dewed cushions, and all the other interesting appliances of romance. However, though I cannot promise you all the discomfort gene- rally belonging to an old castle, you will find legends and ghostly lore enough to claim your respect; and if old Martha be still to the fore, as I trust she is, you will of a Tyrone Family. 65 soon have a supernatural and appropriate anecdote for every closet and corner of the mansion; but here we are—so, without more ado, welcome to Cahergillagh!' We now entered the hall of the castle, and while the domestics were employed in con- veying our trunks and other luggage which we had brought with us for immediate use to the apartments which Lord Glenfallen had selected for himself and me, I went with him into a spacious sitting-room, wains- coted with finely polished black oak, and hung round with the portraits of various worthies of the Glenfallen family. This room looked out upon an extensive level covered with the softest green sward, and irregularly bounded by the wild wood I have before mentioned, through the leafy arcade formed by whose boughs and trunk? the level beams of the setting sun wer« VOL. III. 5 66 A Chapter in the History pouring. In the distance a group of dairy- maids were plying their task, which they accompanied throughout with snatches of Irish songs which, mellowed by the distance, floated not unplea singly to the ear; and beside them sat or lay, with all the grave importance of conscious protection, six or seven large dogs of various kinds. Farther in the distance, and through the cloisters of the arching wood, two or three ragged urchins were employed in driving such stray kine as had wandered farther than the rest to join their fellows. As I looked upon this scene which I have described, a feeling of tranquillity and happi- ness came upon me, which I have never experienced in so strong a degree; and so strange to me was the sensation that my eyes filled with tears. Lord Glenfallen mistook the cause of my of a Tyrone Family. 67 emotion, and taking me kindly and tenderly by the hand, he said: 'Do not suppose, my love, that it is my intention to settle here. Whenever you desire to leave this, you have only to let me know your wish, and it shall be complied with; so I must entreat of you not to suffer any cir- cumstances which I can control to give you one moment's uneasiness. But here is old Martha; you must be introduced to her, one of the heirlooms of our family.' A hale, good-humoured, erect old woman was Martha, and an agreeable contrast to' the grim, decrepid hag which my fancy had conjured up, as the depository of all the horrible tales in which I doubted not this old place was most fruitful. She welcomed me and her master with a profusion of gratulations, alternately kissing our hands and apologising for the liberty, 5—2 68 A Chapter in the History until at length Lord Glenfallen put an end to this somewhat fatiguing ceremonial by requesting her to conduct me to my chamber if it were prepared for my recep- tion. I followed Martha up an old-fashioned oak staircase into a long, dim passage, at the end of which lay the door which com- municated with the apartments which had been selected for our use; here the old woman stopped, and respectfully requested me to proceed. I accordingly opened the door, and was about to enter, when something like a mass of black tapestry, as it appeared, disturbed by my sudden approach, fell from above the door, so as completely to screen the aper- ture; the startling unexpectedness of the occurrence, and the rustling noise which , the drapery made in its descent, caused me of a Tyrone Family. 69 involuntarily to step two or three paces backwards. I turned, smiling and half- ashamed, to the old servant, and said: 'You see what a coward I am.' The woman looked puzzled, and, without saying any more, I was about to draw aside the curtain and enter the room, when, upon turning to do so, I was surprised to find that nothing whatever interposed to obstruct the passage. I went into the room, followed by the servant-woman, and was amazed to find that it, like the one below, was wainscoted, and that nothing like drapery was to be found near the door. 'Where is it?' said I; 'what has become of it?' 'What does your ladyship wish to know?' said the old woman. 'Where is the black curtain that fell 70 A Chapter in the History across the door, when I attempted first to come to my chamber?' answered I. 'The cross of Christ about us!' said the old woman, turning suddenly pale. 'What is the matter, my good friend?' said I; 'you seem frightened.' 'Oh no, no, your ladyship,' said the old woman, endeavouring to conceal her agita- tion; but in vain, for tottering towards a chair, she sank into it, looking so deadly pale and horror-struck that I thought every moment she would faint. 'Merciful God, keep us from harm and danger!' muttered she at length. 'What can have terrified you so?' said I, beginning to fear that she had seen some- thing more than had met my eye. 'You appear ill, my poor woman!' 'Nothing, nothing, my lady,' said she, rising. 'I beg your ladyship's pardon for of a Tyrone Family. 71 making so bold. May the great God defend us from misfortune!' 'Martha,' said I, 'something has fright- ened you very much, and I insist on know- ing what it is; your keeping me in the dark upon the subject will make me much more uneasy than anything you could tell me. I desire you, therefore, to let me know what agitates you; I command you to tell me.' 'Your ladyship said you saw a black curtain falling across the door when you were coming into the room,' said the old woman. 'I did,' said I; 'but though the whole thing appears somewhat strange, I cannot see anything in the matter to agitate you so excessively.' 'It's for no good you saw that, my lady,' said the crone; 'something terrible is 72 A Chapter in the History coming. It's a sign, my lady—a sign that never fails.' 'Explain, explain what you mean, my good woman,' said I, in spite of myself, catching more than I could account for, of her superstitious terror. 'Whenever something—something bad is going to happen to the Glenfallen family, some one that belongs to them sees a black handkerchief or curtain just waved or fall- ing before their faces. I saw it myself,' continued she, lowering her voice, 'when I was only a little girl, and I'll never forget it. I often heard of it before, though I never saw it till then, nor since, praised be God. But I was going into Lady Jane's room to waken her in the morning; and sure enough when I got first to the bed and began to draw the curtain, something dark was waved across the division, but only for of a Tyrone Family. 73 a moment; and when I saw rightly into the bed, there was she lying cold and dead, God be merciful to me! So, my lady, there is small blame to me to be daunted when any one of the family sees it; for it's many's the story I heard of it, though I saw it but once.' I was not of a superstitious turn of mind, yet I could not resist a feeling of awe very nearly allied to the fear which my com- panion had so unreservedly expressed; and when you consider my situation, the lone- liness, antiquity, and gloom of the place, you will allow that the weakness was not without excuse. In spite of old Martha's boding predic- tions, however, time flowed on in an un- ruffled course. One little incident however, though trifling in itself, I must relate, as it serves to make what follows more intelligible. 74 A Chapter in the History Upon the day after my arrival, Lord Glenfallen of course desired to make me acquainted with the house and domain; and accordingly we set forth upon our ramble. When returning, he became for some time silent and moody, a state so unusual with him as considerably to excite my surprise. I endeavoured by observations and ques- tions to arouse him—but in vain. At length, as we approached the house, he said, as if speaking to himself: ''Twere madness—madness—madness,' repeating the words bitterly—' sure and speedy ruin.' There was here a long pause; and at length, turning sharply towards me, in a tone very unlike that in which he had hitherto addressed me, he said: 'Do you think it possible that a woman can keep a secret?' of a Tyrone Family. 75 'I am sure,' said I, 'that women are very much belied upon the score of talk- ativeness, and that I may answer your question with the same directness with which you put it—I reply that I do think a woman can keep a secret.' 'But I do not,' said he, drily. We walked on in silence for a time. I was much astonished at his unwonted abruptness—I had almost said rudeness. After a considerable pause he seemed to recollect himself, and with an effort resuming his sprightly manner, he said: 'Well, well, the next thing to keeping a secret well is, not to desire to possess one—talkativeness and curiosity generally go together. Now I shall make test of you, in the first place, respecting the latter of these qualities. I shall be your Bluebeard —tush, why do I trifle thus? Listen to me, 76 A Chapter in the History my dear Fanny; I speak now in solemn earnest. What I desire is intimately, inseparably, connected with your happi- ness and honour as well as my own: and your compliance with my request will not be difficult. It will impose upon you a very trifling restraint during your sojourn here, which certain events which have occurred since our arrival have determined me shall not be a. long one. You must promise me, upon your sacred honour, that you will visit only that part of the castle which can be reached from the front entrance, leaving the back entrance and the part of the building commanded immediately by it to the menials, as also the small garden whose high wall you see yonder; and never at any time seek to pry or peep into them, nor to open the door which communicates from the of a Tyrone Family. 77 front part of the house through the corridor with the back. I do not urge this in jest or in caprice, but from a solemn conviction that danger and misery will be the certain consequences of your not observing what I prescribe. I cannot explain myself further at present. Promise me, then, these things, as you hope for peace here, and for mercy hereafter.' I did make the promise as desired, and he appeared relieved; his manner recovered all its gaiety and elasticity: but the recol- lection of the strange scene which I have just described dwelt painfully upon my mind. More than a month passed away without any occurrence worth recording; but I was not destined to leave Cahergillagh without further adventure. One day, intending to enjoy the pleasant sunshine 78 A Chapter in the History in a ramble through the woods, I ran up to my room to procure my bonnet and shawl. Upon entering the chamber, I was surprised and somewhat startled to find it occupied. Beside the fireplace, and nearly opposite the door, seated in a large, old-fashioned elbow-chair, was placed the figure of a lady. She appeared to be nearer fifty than forty, and was dressed suitably to her age, in a handsome suit of flowered silk; she had a profusion of trinkets and jewellery about her person, and many rings upon her fingers. But although very rich, her dress was not gaudy or in ill taste. But what was remarkable in the lady was, that although her features were handsome, and upon the whole pleasing, the pupil of each eye was dimmed with the whiteness of cataract, and she was evidently stone-blind. I was for some seconds so surprised at of a Tyrone Family. 79 this unaccountable apparition, that I could not find words to address her. 'Madam,' said I, 'there must be some mistake here—this is my bed-chamber.' 'Marry come up,' said the lady, sharply; 'your chamber! Where is Lord Glenfallen?' 'He is below, madam,' replied I; 'and I am convinced he will be not a little surprised to find you here.' 'I do not think he will,' said she; 'with your good leave, talk of what you know something about. Tell him I want him. Why does the minx dilly-dally so?' In spite of the awe which this grim lady inspired, there was something in her air of confident superiority which, when I considered our relative situations, was not a little irritating. 'Do you know, madam, to whom you speak?' said I. 80 CA hapter in the History 'I neither know nor care,' said she; 'but I presume that you are some one about the house, so again I desire you, if you wish to continue here, to bring your master hither forthwith.' 'I must tell you, madam/ said I, 'that I am Lady Glenfallen.' 'What's that?' said the stranger, rapidly. 'I say, madam,' I repeated, approaching her that I might be more distinctly heard, 'that I am Lady Glenfallen.' 'It's a lie, you trull!' cried she, in an accent which made me start, and at the same time, springing forward, she seized me in her grasp, and shook me violently, repeating, 'It's a lie—it's a lie!' with a rapidity and vehemence which swelled every vein of her face. The violence of her action, and the fury which convulsed her face, effectually terrified me, and dis- of a Tyrone Family. 81 engaging myself from her grasp, I screamed as loud as I could for help. The blind woman continued to pour out a torrent of abuse upon me, foaming at the mouth with rage, and impotently shaking her clenched fists towards me. I heard Lord Glenfallen's step upon the stairs, and I instantly ran out; as I passed him I perceived that he was deadly pale, and just caught the words: 'I hope that demon has not hurt you?' I made some answer, I forget what, and he entered the chamber, the door of which he locked upon the inside. What passed within I know not; but I heard the voices of the two speakers raised in loud and angry altercation. I thought I heard the shrill accents of the woman repeat the words, 'Let her look to herself;' but I could not be quite sure. This VOL. III. 6 of a Tyrone Family. 83 pleasant, so involved in mystery, and giving rise to so many painful surmises, afforded me no very agreeable food for rumination. All attempts on my part to arrive at the truth were baffled; Lord Glenfallen evaded all my inquiries, and at length peremptorily forbid any further allusion to the matter. I was thus obliged to rest satisfied with what I had actually seen, and to trust to time to resolve the perplexities in which the whole transaction had involved me. Lord Glenfallen's temper and spirits gradually underwent a complete and most painful change; he became silent and abstracted, his manner to me was abrupt and often harsh, some grievous anxiety seemed ever present to his mind; and under its influence his spirits sunk and his temper became soured. 6—2 84 A Chapter in the History I soon perceived that his gaiety was rather that which the stir and excitement of society produce, than the result of a healthy habit of mind; every day con- firmed me in the opinion, that the con- siderate good-nature which I had so much admired in him was little more than a mere manner ; and to my infinite grief and sur- prise, the gay, kind, open-hearted nobleman who had for months followed and flattered me, was rapidly assuming the form of a gloomy, morose, and singularly selfish man. This was a bitter discovery, and I strove to conceal it from myself as long as I could; but the truth was not to be denied, and I was forced to believe that Lord Glenfallen no longer loved me, and that he was at little pains to conceal the alteration in his s entiments. One morning after breakfast, Lord Glen- of a Tyrone Family. 85 fallen had been for some time walking silently up and down the room, buried in his moody reflections, when pausing suddenly, and turning towards me, he exclaimed: 'I have it—I have it! We must go abroad, and stay there too; and if that does not answer, why—why, we must try some more effectual expedient. Lady Glenfallen, I have become involved in heavy embarrass- ments. A wife, you know, must share the fortunes of her husband, for better for worse; but I will waive my right if you. prefer remaining here—here at Cahergil- lagh. For I would not have you seen else- where without the state to which your rank entitles you; besides, it would break your poor mother's heart,' he added, with sneer- ing gravity. 'So make up your mind— Cahergillagh or France. I will start if 86 A Chapter in the History possible in a week, so determine between this and then.' He left the room, and in a few moments I saw him ride past the window, followed by a mounted servant. He had directed .a domestic to inform me that he should not be back until the next day. I was in very great doubt as to what course of conduct I should pursue, as to accompanying him in the continental tour so suddenly determined upon. I felt that it would be a hazard too great to encounter; for at Cahergillagh I had always the con- sciousness to sustain me, that if his temper at any time led him into violent or un- warrantable treatment of me, I had a remedy within reach, in the protection and support of my own family, from all useful and effective communication with whom, if once in France, I should be entirely debarred. of a Tyrone Family. 87 As to remaining at Cahergillagh in soli- tude, and, for aught I knew, exposed to hidden dangers, it appeared to me scarcely less objectionable than the former proposi- tion; and yet I feared that with one or other I must comply, unless I was prepared to come to an actual breach with Lord Grlenfallen. Full of these unpleasing doubts and perplexities, I retired to rest. I was wakened, after having slept uneasily for some hours, by some person shaking me rudely by the shoulder; a small lamp burned in my room, and by its light, to my horror and amazement, I discovered that my visitant was the self-same blind old lady who had so terrified me a few weeks be- fore. I started up in the bed, with a view to ring the bell, and alarm the domestics; but she instantly anticipated me by saying: 88 A Chapter in the History 'Do not be frightened, silly girl! If I had wished to harm you I could have done it while you were sleeping; I need not have wakened you. Listen to me, now, atten- tively and fearlessly, for what I have to say interests you to the full as much as it does me. Tell me here, in the presence of God, did Lord Glenfallen marry you—actually marry you? Speak the truth, woman.' 'As surely as I live and speak,' I replied, 'did Lord Glenfallen marry me, in presence of more than a hundred wit- nesses.' 'Well,' continued she, 'he should have told you then, before you married him, that he had a wife living, which wife I am. I feel you tremble—tush! do not be fright- ened. I do not mean to harm you. Mark me now—you are not his wife. When I make my story known you will be so of a Tyrone Family. 89 neither in the eye of God nor of man. You must leave this house upon to-morrow. Let the world know that your husband has another wife living; go you into retire- ment, and leave him to justice, which will surely overtake him. If you remain in this house after to-morrow you will reap the bitter fruits of your sin.' So saying, she quitted the room, leaving me very little disposed to sleep. Here was food for my very worst and most terrible suspicions; still there was not enough to remove all doubt. I had no proof of the truth of this woman's state- ment. Taken by itself, there was nothing to induce me to attach weight to it; but when I viewed it in connection with the extra- ordinary mystery of some of Lord Glen- 90 A Chapter in the History fallen's proceedings, his strange anxiety to exclude me from certain portions of the mansion, doubtless lest I should encounter this person—the strong influence, nay, command which she possessed over him, a circumstance clearly established by the very fact of her residing in the very place where, of all others, he should least have desired to find her—her thus acting, and continuing to act in direct contradiction to his wishes; when, I say, I viewed her disclosure in con- nection with all these circumstances, I could not help feeling that there was at least a fearful verisimilitude in the allegations which she had made. Still I was not satisfied, nor nearly so. Young minds have a reluctance almost in- surmountable to believing, upon anything short of unquestionable proof, the existence of premeditated guilt in anyone whom they of a Tyrone Family, 91 have ever trusted; and in support of this feeling I was assured that if the assertion of Lord Glenfallen, which nothing in this woman's manner had led me to disbelieve, were true, namely that her mind was un- sound, the whole fabric of my doubts and fears must fall to the ground. I determined to state to Lord Glenfallen freely and accurately the substance of the communication which I had just heard, and in his words and looks to seek for its proof or refutation. Full of these thoughts, I remained wakeful and excited all night, every moment fancying that I heard the step or saw the figure of my recent visitor, towards whom I felt a species of horror and dread which I can hardly describe. There was something in her face, though her features had evidently been handsome, and were not, at first sight, unpleasing, 92 A Chapter iii the History which, upon a nearer inspection, seemed to indicate the habitual prevalence and indul- gence of evil passions, and a power of ex- pressing mere animal anger, with an intense- ness that I have seldom seen equalled, and to which an almost unearthly effect was given by the convulsive quivering of the sightless eyes. You may easily suppose that it was no very pleasing reflection to me to consider that, whenever caprice might induce her to return, I was within the reach of this vio- lent and, for aught I knew, insane woman, who had, upon that very night, spoken to me in a tone of menace, of which her mere words, divested of the manner and look with which she uttered them, can convey but a fault idea. Will you believe me when I tell you that I was actually afraid to leave my bed in of a Tyrone Family. 93 order to secure the door, lest I should again encounter the dreadful object lurk- ing in some .corner or peeping from behind the window-curtains, so very a child was I in my fears. The morning came, and with it Lord Glenfallen. I knew not, and indeed I cared not, where he might have been; my thoughts were wholly engrossed by the terrible fears and suspicions which my last night's conference had suggested to me. He was, as usual, gloomy and abstracted, and I feared in no very fitting mood to hear what I had to say with patience, whether the charges were true or false. I was, however, determined not to suffer the opportunity to pass, or Lord Glenfallen to leave the room, until, at all hazards, I had unburdened my mind. 'My lord,' said I, after a long silence, 94 A Chapter in the History summoning up all my firmness—' my lord, I wish to say a few words to you upon a matter of very great importance, of very deep concernment to you and to me.' I fixed my eyes upon him to discern, if possible, whether the announcement caused him any uneasiness; but no symptom of any such feeling was perceptible. 'Well, my dear,' said he, 'this is no doubt a very grave preface, and portends, I have no doubt, something extraordinary. Pray let us have it without more ado.' He took a chair, and seated himself nearly opposite to me. 'My lord,' said I, 'I have seen the person who alarmed me so much a short time since, the blind lady, again, upon last night.' His face, upon which my eyes were fixed, turned pale; he hesitated for a moment, and then said: of a Tyrone Family. 95 'And did you, pray, madam, so totally forget or spurn my express command, as to enter that portion of the house from which your promise, I might say your oath, excluded you?—answer me that !' he added fiercely. 'My lord,' said I, 'I have neither for- gotten your commands, since such they were, nor disobeyed them. I was, last night, wakened from my sleep, as I lay in my own chamber, and accosted by the person whom I have mentioned. How she found access to the room I cannot pretend to say.' • 'Ha! this must be looked to,' said he, half reflectively; 'and pray,' added he, quickly, while in turn he fixed his eyes upon me, 'what did this person say ? since some comment upon her communication forms, no doubt, the sequel to your preface.' 96 A Chapter in the History 'Your lordship is not mistaken,' said I; 'her statement was so extraordinary that I could not think of withholding it from you. She told me, my lord, that you had a wife living at the time you married me, and that she was that wife.' Lord Glenfallen became ashy pale, almost livid ; he made two or three efforts to clear his voice to speak, but in vain, and turning suddenly from me, he walked to the window. The horror and dismay which, in the olden time, overwhelmed the woman of Endor when her spells un- expectedly conjured the dead into her presence, were but types of what I felt when thus presented with what appeared to be almost unequivocal evidence of the guilt whose existence I had before so strongly doubted. There was a silence of some moments, of a Tyrone Family. 97 during which it were hard to conjecture whether I or my companion suffered most. Lord Glenfallen soon recovered his self- commaiid; he returned to the table, again sat down and said: 'What you have told me has so as- tonished me, has unfolded such a tissue of motiveless guilt, and in a quarter from which I had so little reason to look for ingratitude or treachery, that your an- nouncement almost deprived me of speech; the person in question, however, has one excuse, her mind is, as I told you before, unsettled. You should have remembered that, and hesitated to receive as unex- ceptionable evidence against the honour of your husband, the ravings of a lunatic. I now tell you that this is the last time I shall speak to you upon this subject, and, VOL. III. 7 98 A Chapter in the History in the presence of the God who is to judge me, and as I hope for mercy in the day of judgment, I swear that the charge thus brought against me is utterly false, un- founded, and ridiculous; I defy the world in any point to taint my honour; and, as I have never taken the opinion of mad- men touching your character or morals, I think it but fair to require that you will evince a like tenderness for me; and now, once for all, never again dare to repeat to me your insulting suspicions, or the clumsy and infamous calumnies of fools. I shall instantly let the worthy lady who contrived this somewhat original device, understand fully my opinion upon the matter. Good morning;' and with these words he left me again in doubt, and in- volved in all horrors of the most agonising suspense. of a Tyrone Family. 99 I had reason to think that Lord Glenfallen wreaked his vengeance upon the author of the strange story which I had heard, with a violence which was not satisfied with mere words, for old Martha, with whom I was a great favourite, while attending me in my room, told me that she feared her master had ill-used the poor blind Dutch woman, for that she had heard her scream as if the very life were leaving her, but added a request that I should not speak of what she had told me to any one, particularly to the master. 'How do you know that she is a Dutch woman?' inquired I, anxious to learn any- thing whatever that might throw a light upon the history of this person, who seemed to have resolved to mix herself up in my fortunes. 'Why, my lady,' answered Martha, 'the 7—2 100 A Chapter in the History master often calls her the Dutch hag, and other names you would not like to hear, and I am sure she is neither English nor Irish; for, whenever they talk together, they speak some queer foreign lingo, and fast enough, I'll be bound. But I ought not to talk about her at all; it might be as much as my place is worth to mention her—only you saw her first yourself, so there can be no great harm in speaking of her now.' 'How long has this lady been here?' continued I. 'She came early on the morning after your ladyship's arrival,' answered she; 'but do not ask me any more, for the master would think nothing of turning me out of doors for daring to speak of her at all, much less to you, my lady.' I did not like to press the poor woman of a Tyrone Family. 101 further, for her reluctance to speak on this topic was evident and strong. You will readily believe that upon the very slight grounds which my information afforded, contradicted as it was by the solemn oath of my husband, and derived from what was, at best, a very question- able source, I could not take any very decisive measure whatever; and as to the menace of the strange woman who had thus unaccountably twice intruded herself into my chamber, although, at the moment, it occasioned me some uneasiness, it was not, even in my eyes, sufficiently formidable to induce my departure from Cahergillagh. A few nights after the scene which I have just mentioned, Lord Glenfallen having, as usual, early retired to his study, I was left alone in the parlour to amuse myself as best I might. of a Tyrone Family. 103 I looked around the room for the speaker, but in vain. I went then to the room-door, which I opened, and peered into the passage, nearly faint with horror lest some leering, shape- less thing should greet me upon the thresh- old. When I had gazed long enough to assure myself that no strange object was within sight, 'I have been too much of a rake lately; I am racking out my nerves,' said I, speaking aloud, with a view to reassure myself. I rang the bell, and, attended by old Martha, I retired to settle for the night. While the servant was—as was her custom—arranging the lamp which I have already stated always burned during the night in my chamber, I was employed 104 A Chapter in the History in undressing, and, in doing so, I had recourse to a large looking-glass which occupied a considerable portion of the wall in which it was fixed, rising from the ground to a height of about six feet—this mirror filled the space of a large panel in the wainscoting opposite the foot of the bed. I had hardly been before it for the lapse of a minute when something like a black pall was slowly waved between me and it. 'Oh, God! there it is,' I exclaimed, wildly. 'I have seen it again, Martha— the black cloth.' 'God be merciful to us, then!' answered she, tremulously crossing herself. 'Some misfortune is over us.' 'No, no, Martha,' said I, almost instantly recovering my collectedness; for, although of a Tyrone, Family. 105 of a nervous temperament, I had never been superstitious. 'I do not believe in omens. You know I saw, or fancied I saw, this thing before, and nothing fol- lowed.' 'The Dutch lady came the next morn- ing,' replied she. 'But surely her coming scarcely de- served such a dreadful warning,' I replied. 'She is a strange woman, my lady,' said Martha; 'and she is not gone yet—mark my words.' '"Well, well, Martha,' said I, 'I have not wit enough to change your opinions, nor inclination to alter mine; so I will talk no more of the matter. Good-night,' and so I was left to my reflections. After lying for about an hour awake, I at length fell into a kind of doze ; but 106 A Chapter in the History my imagination was still busy, for I was startled from this unrefreshing sleep by fancying that I heard a voice close to my face exclaim as before: 'There is blood upon your ladyship's throat.1 The words were instantly followed by a loud burst of laughter. Quaking with horror, I awakened, and heard my husband enter the room. Even this was a relief. Scared as I was, however, by the tricks which my imagination had played me, I preferred remaining silent, and pretending to sleep, to attempting to engage my hus- band in conversation, for I well knew that his mood was such, that his words would not, in all probability, convey anything that had not better be unsaid and un- heard. of a Tyrone Family. 107 Lord Glenfallen went into his dressing- room, which lay upon the right-hand side of the bed. The door lying open, I could see him by himself, at full length upon a sofa, and, in about half an hour, I became aware, by his deep and regularly drawn respiration, that he was fast asleep. When slumber refuses to visit one, there is something peculiarly irritating, not to the temper, but to the nerves, in the con- sciousness that some one is in your im- mediate presence, actually enjoying the boon which you are seeking in vain; at least, I have always found. it so,- and never more than upon the present oc- casion. A thousand annoying imaginations ha- rassed and excited me ; every object which I looked upon, though ever so familiar, seemed to have acquired a strange phantom- 108 A Chapter in the History like character, the varying shadows thrown by the flickering of the lamplight, seemed shaping themselves into grotesque and un- earthly forms, and whenever my eyes wan- dered to the sleeping figure of my husband, his features appeared to undergo the strangest and most demoniacal con- tortions. Hour after hour was told by the old clock, and each succeeding one found me, if possible, less inclined to sleep than its predecessor. It was now considerably past three ; my eyes, in their involuntary wanderings, happened to alight upon the large mirror which was, as I have said, fixed in the wall opposite the foot of the bed. A view of it was commanded from where I lay, through the curtains. As I gazed fixedly upon it, I thought I perceived the broad of a Tyrone Family. 109 sheet of glass shifting its position in rela- tion to the bed; I riveted my eyes upon it with intense scrutiny; it was no de- ception, the mirror, as if acting of its own impulse, moved slowly aside, and disclosed a dark aperture in the wall, nearly as large as an ordinary door; a figure evidently stood in this, but the light was too dim to define it accurately. It stepped cautiously into the chamber, and with so little noise, that had I not actually seen it, I do not think I should have been aware of its presence. It was arrayed in a kind of woollen night-dress, and a white handkerchief or cloth was bound tightly about the head; I had no difficulty, spite of the strangeness of the attire, in recognising the blind woman whom I so much dreaded. She stooped down, bringing her head 110 A Chapter in the History nearly to the ground, and in that attitude she remained motionless for some moments, no doubt in order to ascertain if any suspicious sound were stirring. She was apparently satisfied by her ob- servations, for she immediately recom- menced her silent progress towards a pon- derous mahogany dressing-table of my husband's. When she had reached it, she paused again, and appeared to listen atten- tively for some minutes; she then noise- lessly opened one of the drawers, from which, having groped for some time, she took something, which I soon perceived to be a case of razors. She opened it, and tried the edge of each of the two instruments upon the skin of her hand; she quickly selected one, which she fixed firmly in her grasp. She now stooped down as before, and having listened for a time, she, with of a Tyrone Family. Ill the hand that was disengaged, groped her way into the dressing-room where Lord Glenfallen lay fast asleep. I was fixed as if in the tremendous spell of a nightmare. I could not stir even a finger; I could not lift my voice; I could not even breathe ; and though I expected every moment to see the sleeping man murdered, I could not even close my eyes to shut out the horrible spectacle, which I had not the power to avert. I saw the woman approach the sleeping figure, she laid the unoccupied hand lightly along his clothes, and having thus ascer- tained his identity, she, after a brief in- terval, turned back and again entered my chamber; here she bent down again to listen. I had now not a doubt but that the razor was intended for my throat; yet 112 A Chapter in the History the terrific fascination which had locked all my powers so long, still continued to bind me fast. I felt that my life depended upon the slightest ordinary exertion, and yet I could not stir one joint from the position in which I lay, nor even make noise enough to waken Lord Glenfallen. The murderous woman now, with long, silent steps, approached the bed; my very heart seemed turning to ice; her left hand, that which was disengaged, was upon the pillow; she gradually slid it forward towards my head, and in an instant, with the speed of lightning, it was clutched in my hair, while, with the other hand, she dashed the razor at my throat. A slight inaccuracy saved me from instant death; the blow fell short, the of a Tyrone Family. 113 point of the razor grazing my throat. In a moment, I know not how, I found myself at the other side of the bed, uttering shriek after shriek; the wretch was, however, determined if possible to murder me. Scrambling along by the curtains, she rushed round the bed towards me; I seized the handle of the door to make my escape. It was, however, fastened. At all events, I could not open it. From the mere instinct of recoiling terror, I shrunk back into a corner. She was now within a yard of me. Her hand was upon my face. I closed my eyes fast, expecting never to open them again, when a blow, inflicted from behind by a strong arm, stretched the monster senseless at my feet. At the same moment the door opened, and several VOL. in. 8 114 A Chapter in the History domestics, alarmed by my cries, entered the apartment. I do not recollect what followed, for I fainted. One swoon succeeded 'another, so long and death-like, that my life was con- sidered very doubtful. At about ten o'clock, however, I sunk into a deep and refreshing sleep, from which I was awakened at about two, that I might swear my deposition before a magistrate, who attended for that purpose. I accordingly did so, as did also Lord Glenfallen, and the woman was fully com- mitted to stand her trial at the ensuing assizes. I shall never forget the scene which the examination of the blind woman and of the other parties afforded. She was brought into the room in the custody of two servants. She wore a kind of a Tyrone Family. 115 of flannel wrapper which had not been changed since the night before. It was torn and soiled, and here and there smeared with blood, which had flowed in large quantities from a wound in her head. The white handkerchief had fallen off in the scuffle, and her grizzled hah1 fell in masses about her wild and deadly pale counten- ance. She appeared perfectly composed, how- ever, and the only regret she expressed throughout, was at not having succeeded in her attempt, the object of which she did not pretend to conceal. On being asked her name, she called herself the Countess Glenfallen, and refused to give any other title. 'The woman's name is Flora Van- Kemp,' said Lord Glenfallen. 'It was, it was, you perjured traitor 116 A Chapter in the History and cheat!' screamed the woman; and then there followed a volley of words in some foreign language. 'Is there a magistrate here?' she resumed; 'I am Lord Glenfallen's wife—I'll prove it— write down my words. I am willing to be hanged or burned, so he meets his deserts. I did try to kill that doll of his; but it was he who put it into my head to do it—two wives were too many; I was to murder her, or she was to hang me; listen to all I have to say.' Here Lord Glenfallen interrupted. 'I think, sir,' said he, addressing the magistrate, 'that we had better proceed to business; this unhappy woman's furious recriminations but waste our time. If she refuses to answer your questions, you had better, I presume, take my depositions.' of a Tyrone Family. 117 'And are you going to swear away my life, you black-perjured murderer?' shrieked the woman. 'Sir, sir, sir, you must hear me,' she continued, addressing the magistrate; 'I can convict him—he bid me murder that girl, and then, when I failed, he came behind me, and struck me down, and now he wants to swear away my life. Take down all I say.' 'If it is your intention,' said the magis- trate, 'to confess the crime with which you stand charged, you may, upon producing sufficient evidence, criminate whom you please.' 'Evidence !—I have no evidence but myself,' said the woman. 'I will swear it all—write down my testimony—write it down, I say—we shall hang side by side, my brave lord—all your own handy-work, my gentle husband.' 118 A Chapter in the History This was followed by a low, insolent, and sneering laugh, which, from one in her situation, was sufficiently horrible. 'I will not at present hear anything,' replied he, 'but distinct answers to the questions which I shall put to you upon this matter.' 'Then you shall hear nothing,' replied she sullenly, and no inducement or in- timidation could bring her to speak again. Lord Glenfallen's deposition and mine were then given, as also those of the servants who had entered the room at the moment of my rescue. The magistrate then intimated that she was committed, and must proceed directly to gaol, whither she was brought in a carriage of Lord Glenfallen's, for his lordship was naturally by no means in- of a Tyrone Family. 119 different to the effect which her vehement accusations against himself might produce, if uttered before every chance hearer whom she might meet with between Cahergillagh and the place of confinement whither she was despatched. During the time which intervened between the committal and the trial of the prisoner, Lord Glenfallen seemed to suffer agonies of mind which baffle all description; he hardly ever slept, and when he did, his slumbers seemed but the instruments of new tortures, and his waking hours were, if possible, exceeded in intensity of terrors by the dreams which disturbed his sleep. Lord Glenfallen rested, if to lie in the mere attitude of repose were to do so, in his dressing-room, and thus I had an oppor- tunity of witnessing, far oftener than I wished it, the fearful workings of his mind. 120 A Chapter in the History His agony often broke out into such fearful paroxysms that delirium and total loss of reason appeared to be impending. He fre- quently spoke of flying from the country, and bringing with him all the witnesses of the appalling scene upon which the prosecu- tion was founded; then, again, he would fiercely lament that the blow which he had inflicted had not ended all. The assizes arrived, however, and upon the day appointed Lord Glenfallen and I attended in order to give our evidence. The cause was called on, and the prisoner appeared at the bar. Great curiosity and interest were felt respecting the trial, so that the court was crowded to excess. The prisoner, however, without appearing to take the trouble of listening to the indictment, pleaded guilty, and no repre- of a Tyrone Family. 121 sentations on the part of the court availed to induce her to retract her plea. After much time had been wasted in a fruitless attempt to prevail upon her to reconsider her words, the court proceeded, according to the usual form, to pass sentence. This having been done, the prisoner was about to be removed, when she said, in a low, distinct voice: 'A word—a word, my lord!—Is Lord Glenfallen here in the court?' On being told that he was, she raised her voice to a tone of loud menace, and continued: 'Hardress, Earl of Glenfallen, I accuse you here in this court of justice of two crimes,—first, that you married a second wife, while the first was living; and again, that you prompted me to the murder, for 122 A Chapter in the History attempting which I am to die. Secure him—chain him—-bring him here.' There was a laugh through the court at these words, which were naturally treated by the judge as a violent extemporary recrimination, and the woman was desired to be silent. 'You won't take him, then?' she said; 'you won't try him? You'll let him go free?' It was intimated by the court that he would certainly be allowed 'to go free,' and she was ordered again to be re- moved. Before, however, the mandate was exe- cuted, she threw her arms wildly into the air, and uttered one piercing shriek so full of preternatural rage and despair, that it might fitly have ushered a soul into those realms where hope can come no more. of a Tyrone Family. 123 The sound still rang in my ears, months after the voice that had uttered it was for ever silent. The wretched woman was executed in accordance with the sentence which had been pronounced. For some time after this event, Lord Glenfallen appeared, if possible, to suffer more than he had done before, and altogether his language, which often amounted to half confessions of the guilt imputed to him, and all the circumstances connected with the late occurrences, formed a mass of evidence so convincing that I wrote to my father, detailing the grounds of my fears, and im- ploring him to come to Cahergillagh without delay, in order to remove me from my husband's control, previously to taking legal steps for a final separation. Circumstanced as I was, my existence 124 A Chapter in the History was little short of intolerable, for, besides the fearful suspicions which attached to my husband, I plainly perceived that if Lord Grlenfallen were not relieved, and that speedily, insanity must supervene. I there- fore expected my father's arrival, or at least a letter to announce it, with indescribable impatience. About a week after the execution had taken place, Lord Glenfallen one morning met me with an unusually sprightly air. 'Fanny,' said he, 'I have it now for the first time in my power to explain to your satisfaction everything which has hitherto appeared suspicious or mysterious in my conduct. After breakfast come with me to my study, and I shall, I hope, make all things clear.' This invitation afforded me more real pleasure than I had experienced for months. of a Tyrone Family. 1.25 Something had certainly occurred to tran- quillize my husband's mind in no ordinary degree, and I thought it by no means im- possible that he would, in the proposed interview, prove himself the most injured and innocent of men. Full of this hope, I repaired to his study at the appointed hour. He was writing busily when I entered the room, and just raising his eyes, he requested me to be seated. I took a chair as he desired, and re- mained silently awaiting his leisure, while he finished, folded, directed, and sealed his letter. Laying it then upon the table with the address downward, he said, 'My dearest Fanny, I know I must have appeared very strange to you and very unkind—often even cruel. Before the end of this week I will show you the necessity 120 A Chapter in the History of my conduct—how impossible it was that I should have seemed otherwise. I am conscious that many acts of mine must have inevitably given rise to painful sus- picions—suspicions which, indeed, upon one occasion, you very properly commu- nicated to me. I have got two letters from a quarter which commands respect, containing information as to the course by which I may be enabled to prove the nega- tive of all the crimes which even the most credulous suspicion could lay to my charge. I expected a third by this morning's post, containing documents which will set the matter for ever at rest, but owing, no doubt, to some neglect, or, perhaps, to some difficulty in collecting the papers, some inevitable delay, it has not come to hand this morning, according to my expectation. I was finishing one to the very same of a Tyrone Family. 127 quarter when you came in, and if a sound rousing be worth anything, I think I shall have a special messenger before two days have passed. I have been anxiously con- sidering with myself, as to whether I had better imperfectly clear up your doubts by submitting to your inspection the two letters which I have already received, or wait till I can triumphantly vindicate myself by the production of the documents which I have' already mentioned, and I have, I think, not unnaturally decided upon the latter course. However, there is a person in the next room whose testimony is not without its value—excuse me for one moment.' So saying, he arose and went to the door of a closet which opened from the study; this he unlocked, and half opening the door, he said, 'It is only I,' and then 128 A Chapter in the History slipped into the room and carefully closed and locked the door behind him. I immediately heard his voice in ani- mated conversation. My curiosity upon the subject of the letter was naturally great, so, smothering any little scruples which I might have felt, I resolved to look at the address of the letter which lay, as my husband had left it, with its face upon the table. I accordingly drew it over to me and turned up the direction. For two or three moments I could scarce believe my eyes, but there could be no mistake—in large characters were traced the words, 'To the Archangel Gabriel in Heaven.' I had scarcely returned the letter to its original position, and in some degree re- covered the shock which this unequivocal proof of insanity produced, when the closet of a Tyrone Family. 129 door was unlocked, and Lord Glenfallen re-entered the study, carefully closing and locking the door again upon the outside. 'Whom have you there?' inquired I, making a strong effort to appear calm. 'Perhaps,' said he, musingly, 'you might have some objection to seeing her, at least for a time.' 'Who is it?' repeated I. 'Why,' said he, 'I see no use in hiding it—the blind Dutchwoman. I have been with her the whole morning. She is very anxious to get out of that closet; but you know she is odd, she is scarcely to be trusted.' A heavy gust of wind shook the door at this moment with a sound as if some- thing more substantial were pushing against it. 'Ha, ha, ha! — do you hear her?' VOL. III. 9 of a Tyrone Family. 131 I can hardly describe my emotions; my hopes had been raised to the highest, and now, in an instant, all was gone—the dreadful consummation was accomplished— the fearful retribution had fallen upon the guilty man—the mind was destroyed—the power to repent was gone. The agony of the hours which followed what I would still call my awful in- terview with Lord Glenfallen, I cannot describe; my solitude was, however, broken in upon by Martha, who came to inform me of the arrival of a gentleman, who expected me in the parlour. I accordingly descended, and, to my great joy, found my father seated by the fire. This expedition upon his part was easily accounted for: my communications had touched the honour of the family. I 9—2 of a Tyrone Family. 133 vain — it was locked upon the in- side. We knocked more loudly, but in vain. Seriously alarmed, I desired the servant to force the door, which was, after several violent efforts, accomplished, and we entered the closet. Lord Glenfallen was lying on his face upon a sofa. 'Hush!' said I, 'he is asleep.' We paused for a moment. 'He is too still for that,' said my father. AVe all of us felt a strong reluctance to approach the figure. 'Edward,' said I, 'try whether your master sleeps.' The servant approached the sofa where Lord Glenfallen lay. He leant his ear to- wards the head of the recumbent figure, to 134 A Chapter in the History ascertain whether the sound of breathing was audible. He turned towards us, and said: 'My lady, you had better not wait here; I am sure he is dead!' 'Let me see the face,' said I, terribly agitated; 'you may be mistaken.' The man then, in obedience to my com- mand, turned the body round, and, gracious God! what a sight met my view. He was, indeed, perfectly dead. The whole breast of the shirt, with its lace frill, was drenched with gore, as was the couch underneath the spot where he lay. The head hung back, as it seemed, almost severed from the body by a frightful gash, which yawned across the throat. The instrument which had inflicted it was found under his body. of a Tyrone Family. 135 All, then, was over; I was never to learn the history in whose termination I had been so deeply and so tragically in- volved. The severe discipline which my mind had undergone was not bestowed in vain. I directed my thoughts and my hopes to that place where there is no more sin, nor danger, nor sorrow. Thus ends a brief tale whose prominent incidents many will recognise as having marked the history of a distinguished family; and though it refers to a somewhat distant date, we shall be found not to have taken, upon that account, any liberties with the facts, but in our statement of all the incidents to have rigorously and faithfully adhered to the truth. AN ADVENTURE OF HARDRESS FITZGERALD, A ROYALIST CAPTAIN. Being an Eleventh Extract from the Legacy of the late Francis Purcell, P.P. of Drumcoolagh. HE following brief narrative con- tains a faithful account of one of the many strange incidents which chequered the life of Hardress Fitz- gerald—one of the now-forgotten heroes who flourished during the most stirring An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald. 137 and, though the most disastrous, by no means the least glorious period of our eventful history. He was a captain of horse in the army of James, and shared the fortunes of his master, enduring privations, encountering dangers, and submitting to vicissitudes the most galling and ruinous, with a fortitude and a heroism which would, if coupled with his other virtues, have rendered the unhappy monarch whom he served, the most illustrious among unfortunate princes. I have always preferred, where I could do so with any approach to accuracy, to give such relations as the one which I am about to submit to you, in the first person, and in the words of the original narrator, believing that such a form of recitation not only gives freshness to the tale, but a Royalist Captain. 139 lay in my lodgings, which consisted of the garret of a small dark house, stand- ing in the lane which runs close by Audoen's Arch, I busied myself with continual projects for the raising of the country, and the re-collecting of the frag- ments of the defeated army—plans, you will allow, sufficiently magnificent for a poor devil who dared scarce show his face abroad in the daylight. I believe, however, that I had not much reason to fear for my personal safety, for men's minds in the city were greatly occupied with public events, and private amusements and debaucheries, which were, about that time, carried to an excess which our country never knew before, by reason of the raking together from all quarters of the empire, and indeed from most parts of Holland, the most dissolute and des- 140 An Adventure of Hardre&s Fitzgerald, perate adventurers who cared to play at hazard for their lives; and thus there seemed to be but little scrutiny into the characters of those who sought con- cealment. I heard much at different times of the intentions of King James and his party, but nothing with certainty. Some said that the king still lay in Ireland ; others, that he had crossed over to Scotland, to encourage the Highlanders, who, with Dundee at their head, had been stirring in his behoof; others, again, said that he had taken ship for France, leaving his followers to shift for themselves, and re- garding his kingdom as wholly lost, which last was the true version, as I afterwards learned. Although I had been very active in the wars in Ireland, and had done many deeds a Royalist Captain. 1.41 of necessary but dire severity, which have often since troubled me much to think upon, yet I doubted not but that I might easily obtain protection for my person and property from the Prince of Orange, if I sought it by the ordinary submissions; but besides that my conscience and my affections resisted such time-serving con- cessions, I was resolved in my own mind that the cause of the royalist party was by no means desperate, and I looked to keep myself unimpeded by any pledge or promise given to the usurping Dutch- man, that I might freely and honourably take a share in any struggle which might yet remain to be made for the right. I therefore lay quiet, going forth from my lodgings but little, and that chiefly under cover of the dusk, and conversing 142 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, hardly at all, except with those whom I well knew. I had like once to have paid dearly for relaxing this caution; for going into a tavern one evening near the Tholsel, I had the confidence to throw off my hat, and sit there with my face quite exposed, when a fellow coming in with some troopers, they fell a-boozing, and being somewhat warmed, they began to drink 'Confusion to popery,' and the like, and to compel the peaceable persons who happened to sit there, to join them in so doing. Though I was rather hot-blooded, I was resolved to say nothing to attract notice; but, at the same time, if urged to pledge the toasts which they were compelling others to drink, to resist doing so. 144 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, offending any man. I have paid my reckoning, and now desire to go forth. If there is anything within reason that I can do to satisfy you, and to prevent trouble and delay to myself, name your terms, and if they te but fair, I will frankly comply with them.' He quickly replied: 'You are Hardress Fitzgerald, the bloody popish captain, that hanged the twelve men at Derry.' I felt that I was in some danger, but being a strong man, and used to perils of all kinds, it was not easy to discon- cert me. I looked then steadily at the fellow, and, in a voice of much confidence, I said: 'I am neither a Papist, a Royalist, nor a Fitzgerald, but an honester Protestant, 146 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, head, so strong a blow, that he fell, for aught I know, dead upon the floor, and nothing but the handle of the vessel re- mained in my hand. I opened the door, but one of the dragoons drew his sabre, and ran at me to avenge his companion. With my hand I put aside the blade of the sword, narrowly escaping what he had intended for me, the point actually tearing open my vest. Without allowing him time to repeat his thrust, I struck him in the face with my clenched fist so sound a blow that he rolled back into the room with the force of a tennis ball. It was well for me that the rest were half drunk, and the evening dark; for otherwise my folly would infallibly have; cost me my life. As it was, I reached my garret in safety, with a resolution a Royalist Captain. 147 to frequent taverns no more until better times. My little patience and money were well- nigh exhausted, when, after much doubt and uncertainty, and many conflicting reports, I was assured that the flower of the Royalist army, under the Duke of Berwick and General Boisleau, occupied the city of Limerick, with a determination to hold that fortress against the prince's forces; and that a French fleet of great power, and well freighted with arms, ammunition, and men, was riding in the Shannon, under the walls of the town. But this last report was, like many others then circulated, untrue; there being, in- deed, a promise and expectation of such assistance, but no arrival of it till too late. The army of the Prince of Orange was 10—2 148 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, said to be rapidly approaching the town, in order to commence the siege. On hearing this, and being made as certain as the vagueness and unsatisfactory nature of my information, which came not from any authentic source, would permit; at least, being sure of the main point, which all allowed—namely, that Limerick was held for the king—and being also naturally fond of enterprise, and impatient of idleness, I took the resolution to travel thither, and, if possible, to throw myself into the city, in order to lend what assist- ance I might to my former companions in arms, well knowing that any man of strong constitution and of some experience might easily make himself useful to a garrison in their straitened situation. When I had taken this resolution, I was not long in putting it into execution ; and, a Royalist Captain. 149 as the first step in the matter, I turned half of the money which remained with me, in all about seventeen pounds, into small wares and merchandise such as travelling traders used to deal in; and the rest, excepting some shillings which I carried home for my im- mediate expenses, I sewed carefully in the lining of my breeches waistband, hoping that the sale of my commodities might easily supply me with subsistence upon the road. I left Dublin upon a Friday morning in the month of September, with a tolerably heavy pack upon my back. I was a strong man and a good walker, and one day with another travelled easily at the rate of twenty miles in each day, much time being lost in the towns of any note on the way, where, to avoid suspicion, I was obliged to make some stay, as if to sell my wares. 150 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, I did not travel directly to Limerick, but turned far into Tipperary, going near to the borders of Cork. Upon the sixth'day after my departure from Dublin I learned, certainly, from some fellows who were returning from trafficking with the soldiers, that the army of the prince was actually encamped before Limerick, upon the south side of the Shannon. In order, then, to enter the city without interruption, I must needs cross the river, and I was much in doubt whether to do so by boat from Kerry, which I might have easily done, into the Earl of Clare's land, and thus into the beleaguered city, or to take what seemed the easier way, one, how- ever, about which I had certain misgivings —which, by the way, afterwards turned out to be just enough. This way was to cross a Royalist Captain. 151 the Shannon at O'Brien's Bridge, or at Kil- laloe, into the county of Clare. I feared, however, that both these passes were guarded by. the prince's forces, and resolved, if such were the case, not to essay to cross, for I was not fitted to sustain a scrutiny, having about me, though pretty safely secured, my commission from King James—which, though a dangerous com- panion, I would not have parted from but with my life. I settled, then, in my own mind, that if the bridges were guarded I would walk as far as Portumna, where I might cross, though at a considerable sacrifice of time; and, having determined upon this course, I turned directly towards Killaloe. I reached the foot of the mountain, or rather high hill, called Keeper—which had been pointed out to me as a landmark— 152 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, lying directly between me and Killaloe, in the evening, and, having ascended some way, the darkness and fog overtook me. The evening was very chilly, and myself weary, hungry, and much in need of sleep, so that I preferred seeking to cross the hill, though at some risk, to remaining upon it throughout the night. Stumbling over rocks and sinking into bog-mire, as the nature of the ground varied, I slowly and laboriously plodded on, making very little way in proportion to the toil it cost me. After half an hour's slow walking, or rather rambling, for, owing to the dark, I very soon lost my direction, I at last heard the sound of running water, and with some little trouble reached the edge of a brook, which ran in the bottom of a deep gully. This I knew would furnish a sure guide to a Royalist Captain. 153 the low grounds, where I might promise myself that I should speedily meet with some house or cahin where I might find shelter for the night. The stream which I followed flowed at the bottom of a rough and swampy glen, very steep and making many abrupt turns, and so dark, Owing more to the fog than to the want of the moon (for, though not high, I believe it had risen at the time), that I continually fell over fragments of rock and stumbled up to my middle into the rivulet, which I sought to follow. In this way, drenched, weary, and with my patience almost exhausted, I was toiling onward, when, turning a sharp angle in the winding glen, I found myself with'n some twenty yards of a group of wild-looking men, gathered in various attitudes round a glowing turf fire. 154 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, I was so surprised at this rencontre that I stopped short, and for a time was in doubt whether to turn back or to accost them. A minute's thought satisfied me that I ought to make up to the fellows, and trust to their good faith for whatever assistance they could give me. I determined, then, to do this, having great faith in the impulses of my mind, which, whenever I have been in jeopardy, as in my life I often have, always prompted me aright. The strong red light of the fire showed me plainly enough that the group consisted, not of soldiers, but of Irish kernes, or countrymen, most of them wrapped in heavy mantles, and with no other covering for their heads than that afforded by their long, rough hair. a Royalist Captain. 155 There was nothing about them which I could see to intimate whether their object were peaceful or warlike; but I afterwards found that they had weapons enough, though of their own rude fashion. There were in all about twenty persons assembled around the fire, some sitting upon such blocks of stone as happened to lie in the way; others stretched at their length upon the ground. 'God save you, boys!' said I, advancing towards the party. The men who had been talking and laughing together instantly paused, and two of them—tall and powerful fellows— snatched up each a weapon, something like a short halberd with a massive iron head, an instrument which they called among themselves a rapp, and with two or three long strides they came up with me, and 156 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, laying hold upon my arms, drew me, not, you may easily believe, making much re- sistance, towards the fire. When I reached the place where the figures were seated, the two men still held me firmly, and some others threw some handfuls of dry fuel upon the red embers, which, blazing up, cast a strong light upon me. When they had satisfied themselves as to my appearance, they began to question me very closely as to my purpose in being upon the hill at such an unseasonable hour, asking me what was my occupation, whore I had been, and whither I was going. These questions were put to me in English by an old half-military looking man, who translated into that language the suggestions which his companions for the most part threw out in Irish. a Royalist Captain. 157 I did not choose to commit myself to these fellows by telling .them my real character and purpose, and therefore I represented myself as a poor travelling chapman who had been at Cork, and was seeking his way to Killaloe, in order to cross over into Clare and thence to the city of Galway. My account did not seem fully to satisfy the men. I heard one fellow say in Irish, which language I understood, 'Maybe he is a They then whispered together for a time, and the little man who was their spokesman came over to me and said: 'Do you know what we do with spies? we knock their brains out, my friend.' He then turned back to them with whom he had been whispering, and talked in a 158 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, low tone again with them for a considerable time. I now felt very uncomfortable, not know- ing what these savages—for they appeared nothing better—might design against me. Twice or thrice I had serious thoughts of breaking from them, but the two guards who were placed upon me held me fast by the arms; and even had I succeeded in shaking them off, I should soon have been overtaken, encumbered as I was with a heavy pack, and wholly ignorant of the lie of the ground; or else, if I were so exceedingly lucky as to escape out of their hands, I still had the chance of falling into those of some other party of the same kind. I therefore patiently awaited the issue of their deliberations, which I made no doubt affected me nearly. 160 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, 1 was not kept long in suspense, for the little veteran who had spoken to me at first came over, and desiring the two men to bring me after him, led the way along a broken path, which wound by the side of the steep glen. I was obliged willy nilly to go with them, and, half-dragging and half-carrying me, they brought me by the path, which now became very steep, for some hundred yards without stopping, when suddenly coming to a stand, I found myself close before the door of some house or hut, I could not see which, through the planks of which a strong light was streaming. At this door my conductor stopped, and tapping gently at it, it was opened by a stout fellow, with buff-coat and jack-boots, and pistols stuck in his belt, as also a long cavalry sword by his side. a Royalist Captain. 161 He spoke with my guide, and to my no small satisfaction, in French, which con- vinced me that he was one of the soldiers whom Louis had sent to support our king, and who were said to have arrived in Limerick, though, as I observed above, not with truth. I was much assured by this circumstance, and made no doubt but that I had fallen in with one of those marauding parties of native Irish, who, placing themselves under 'the guidance of men of courage and ex- perience, had done much brave and essential service to the cause of the king. The soldier entered an inner door in the apartment, which opening disclosed a rude, dreary, and dilapidated room, with a low plank ceiling, much discoloured by the smoke which hung suspended in heavy masses, descending within a few feet of the VOL. in. 11 a Royalist Captain. 163 regimental clothes, soiled, deranged, and spattered with recent hard travel; the flowing wig, surmounted by the cocked hat and plume,-still rested upon his head. On the table lay his sword-belt with its ap- pendage, and a pair of long holster pistols, some papers, and pen and ink; also a stone jug, and the fragments of a hasty meal. His attitude betokened the languor of fatigue. His left hand was buried beyond the lace ruffle in the breast of his cassock, and the elbow of his right rested upon the table, so as to support his head. From his mouth protruded a tobacco-pipe, which as I entered he slowly withdrew. A single glance at the honest, good- humoured, comely face of the soldier satisfied me of his identity, and removing my hat from my head I said, 'God save General Sarsfield!' 11—"2 164 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, The general nodded. 'I am a prisoner here under strange circumstances,' I continued. 'I appear before you in a strange disguise. You do not recognise Captain Hardress Fitz- gerald!' 'Eh, how's this ?' said he, approaching me with the light. 'I am that Hardress Fitzgerald,' I re- peated, '"who served under you at the Boyne, and upon the day of the action had the honour to protect your person at the expense of his own.' At the same time I turned aside the hair which covered the scar which you well know upon my forehead, and which was then much more remarkable than it is now. The general on seeing this at once recog- nised me, and embracing me cordially, made me sit down, and while I unstrapped a Royalist Captain. 165 my pack, a tedious job, my fingers being nearly numbed with cold, sent the men forth to procure me some provision. The general's horse was stabled in a corner of the chamber where we sat, and his war-saddle lay upon the floor. At the far end of the room was a second door, which stood half, open; a bogwood fire burned on a hearth somewhat less rude than the one which I had first seen, but still very little better appointed with a chimney, for thick wreaths of smoke were eddying, with every fitful gust, about the room. Close by the fire was strewed a bed of heath, intended, I supposed, for the stalwart limbs of the general. 'Hardress Fitzgerald,' said he, fixing his eyes gravely upon me, while he slowly removed the tobacco-pipe from his mouth, 'I remember you, strong, bold and cunning 166 An Adventure of Bar-dress Fitzgerald, in your warlike trade ; the more desperate an enterprise, the more ready for it, you. I would gladly engage you, for I know you trustworthy, to perform a piece of duty requiring, it may be, no extraordinary quality to fulfil; and yet perhaps, as accidents may happen, demanding every attribute of daring and dexterity which belongs to you.' Here he paused for some moments. 1 own I felt somewhat flattered by the terms in which he spoke of me, knowing him to be but little given to compliments; and' not having any plan in my head, farther than the rendering what service I might to the cause of the king, caring very little as to the road in which my duty might lie, I frankly replied: 'Sir, I hope, if opportunity offers, I shall prove to deserve the honourable a Royalist Captain. 167 terms in which you are pleased to speak of me.' In a righteous cause I fear not wounds or death; and in discharging my duty to my God and my king, I am ready for any hazard or any fate. Name the service you require, and if it lies within the compass of my wit or power, I will fully and faithfully perform it. Have I said enough?' 'That is well, very well, my friend; you speak well, and manfully,' replied the general. 'I want you to convey to the hands of General Boisleau, now in the city of Limerick, a small written packet; there is some danger, mark me, of your falling in with some outpost or straggling party of the prince's army. If you are taken unawares by any of the enemy you must dispose of the packet inside your person, rather than let it fall into their 168 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, hands—that is. you must eat it. And if they go to question you with thumb- screws, or the like, answer nothing; let them knock your brains out first.' In illustration, I suppose, of the latter alter- native, he knocked the ashes out of his pipe upon the table as he uttered it. 'The packet,' he continued, 'you shall have to-morrow morning. Meantime com- fort yourself with food, and afterwards with sleep; you will want, mayhap, all your strength and wits on the morrow.' I applied myself forthwith to the homely fare which they had provided, and I confess that I never made a meal so heartily to my satisfaction. It was a beautiful, clear, autumn morning, and the bright beams of the early sun were slanting over the brown heath which clothed the sides of the mountain, and a Royalist Captain. 169 glittering in the thousand bright drops which the melting hoar-frost had left behind it, and the white mists were lying like broad lakes in the valleys, when, with my pedlar's pack upon my back, and General Sarsfield's precious despatch in my bosom, I set forth, refreshed and courageous. As I descended the hill, my heart ex- panded and my spirits rose under the influences which surrounded me. The keen, clear, bracing air of the morning, the bright, slanting sunshine, the merry songs of the small birds, and the distant sounds of awakening labour that floated up from the plains, all conspired to stir my heart within me, and more like a mad-cap boy, broken loose from school, than a man of sober years upon a mission of doubt and danger, I trod lightly on, whistling and singing alternately for very joy. a Royalist Captain. 171 countryman had told me, that the fords were wholly impassable. I stopped then, upon a slight eminence overlooking the village, with a view to reconnoitre and to arrange my plans in case of interruption. While thus engaged, the wind blowing gently from the west, in which quarter Limerick lay, I distinctly heard the explosion of the cannon, which played from and against the city, though at a distance of eleven miles at the least. I never yet heard the music that had for me half the attractions of that sullen sound, and as 1 noted again and again the. distant thunder that proclaimed the perils, and the valour, and the faithfulness of my brethren, my heart swelled with pride, and the tears rose to my eyes; and lifting up my hands to heaven, I prayed 172 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, to God that I might be spared to take a part in the righteous quarrel that was there so bravely maintained. I felt, indeed, at this moment a longing, more intense than I have the power to describe, to be at once with my brave companions in arms, and so inwardly excited and stirred up as if I had been actually within five minutes' march of the field of battle. It was now almost noon, and I had walked hard since morning across a difficult and broken country, so that I was a little fatigued, and in no small degree hungry. As I approached the hamlet, I was glad to see in the window of a poor hovel several large cakes of meal displayed, as if to induce purchasers to enter. I was right in regarding this exhi- a Royalist Captain. 173 bition as an intimation that 'enter- tainment might be procured within, for upon entering and inquiring, I was speedily invited by the poor woman, who, it appeared, kept this humble house of refreshment, to lay down my pack and seat myself by a ponderous table, upon which she promised to serve me with a dinner fit for a king; and indeed, to my mind, she amply fulfilled her engagement, supplying me abundantly with eggs, bacon, and wheaten cakes, which I dis- cussed with a zeal which almost surprised myself. Having disposed of the solid part of my entertainment, I was proceeding to regale myself with a brimming measure of strong waters, when my attention was arrested by the sound of horses' hoofs in brisk motion upon the broken road, and a Royalist Captain. 175 tected while lurking in the room, my situation would of itself inevitably lead to suspicions, and probably to discovery. I therefore declined her offer, and awaited in suspense the entrance of the soldiers. I had time before they made their appearance to move my seat hurriedly from the table to the hearth, where, under the shade of the large chimney, I might observe the coming visitors with less chance of being myself remarked upon. As my hostess had anticipated, the horse- men drew up at the door of the hut, and five dragoons entered the dark chamber where I awaited them. Leaving their horses at the entrance, with much noise and clatter they pro- ceeded to seat themselves and call for liquor. 17G An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, Three of these fellows were Dutchmen, and, indeed, all belonged, as I afterwards found, to a Dutch regiment, which had been recruited with Irish and English, as also partly officered from the same nations. Being supplied with pipes and drink they soon became merry ; and not suffering their smoking to interfere with their con- versation, they talked loud and quickly, for the most part in a sort of barbarous language, neither Dutch nor English, but compounded of both. They were so occupied with their own jocularity that I had very great hopes of escaping observation altogether, and remained quietly seated in a corner of the chimney, leaning back upon my seat as if asleep. My taciturnity and quiescence, however, 178 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, in peace, so far as that may be done in these troublous times.' 'And what may your trade be?' said the same fellow. 'I am a travelling merchant,' I replied; 'and sell my wares as cheap as any trader in the country.' 'Let us see them forthwith,' said he; 1 mayhap I or my comrades may want something which you can supply. Where is thy chest, friend? Thou shalt have ready money' (winking at his companions), 'ready money, and good weight, and sound metal; none of your rascally pinchbeck. Eh, my lads? Bring forth the goods, and let us see.' Thus urged, I should have betrayed myself had I hesitated to do as required; and anxious, upon any terms, to quiet these turbulent men of war, I unbuckled my a Royalist Captain. 179 pack and exhibited its contents upon the table before them. 'A pair of lace ruffles, by the Lord!' said one, unceremoniously seizing upon the articles he named. 'A phial of perfume,' continued another, tumbling over the farrago which I had submitted to them, 'wash-balls, combs, stationery, slippers, small knives, tobacco; by , this merchant is a prize! Mark me, honest fellow, the man who wrongs thee shall suffer—'fore Gad he shall; thou shalt be fairly dealt with' (this he said while in the act of pocketing a small silver tobacco-box, the most valuable article in the lot). 'You shall come with me to head-quarters; the captain will deal with you, and never haggle about the price. I promise thee his good will, and thou wilt consider me accordingly. You'll find 12—2 180 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, him a profitable customer—he has money without end, and throws it about like a gentleman. If so be as I tell thee, I shall expect, and my comrades here, a piece or two in the way of a compliment—but of this anon. Come, then, with us; buckle on thy pack quickly, friend.' There was no use in my declaring my willingness to deal with themselves in pre- ference to their master; it was clear that they had resolved that I should, in the most expeditious and advantageous way, turn my goods into money, that they might excise upon me to the amount of their wishes. The worthy who had taken a lead in these arrangements, and who by his stripes I perceived to be a corporal, having in- sisted on my taking a dram with him to cement our newly-formed friendship, for a Royalist Captain. 181 which, however, he requested me to pay, made me mount behind one of his com- rades; and the party, of which I thus formed an unwilling member, moved at a slow trot towards the quarters of the troop. They reined up their horses fit the head of the long bridge, which at this village spans the broad waters of the Shannon connecting the opposite counties of Tip- perary and Clare. A small tower, built originally, no doubt, to protect and to defend this pass, occupied the near extremity of the bridge, and in its rear, but connected with it, stood several straggling buildings rather dilapidated. A dismounted trooper kept guard at the door, and my conductor having dismounted, as also the corporal, the latter inquired: 'Is the captain in his quarters?' 182 An Adventure, of Hardress Fitzgerald, 'He is,' replied the sentinel. And without more ado my companion shoved me into the entrance of the small dark tower, and opening a door at the ex- tremity of the narrow chamber into which we had passed from the street, we entered a second room in which were seated some half-dozen officers of various ranks and ages, engaged in drinking, and smoking, and play. I glanced rapidly from man to man, and was nearly satisfied by my inspection, when one of the gentlemen whose back had been turned towards the place where I stood, suddenly changed his position and looked towards me. As soon as I saw his face my heart sank within me, and I knew that my life or death was balanced, as it were, upon a razor's edge. 184 An Adventure of Hardre&s Fitzgerald, his not recognising me through the disguise which I had assumed, an accident against which were many chances, for he well knew my person and appearance. It was too late now to .destroy General Sarsfield's instructions; any attempt to do so would ensure detection. All then depended upon a cast of the die. When the first moment of dismay and heart-sickening agitation had passed, it seemed to me as if my mind acquired a collectedness and clearness more complete and intense than I had ever experienced before. I instantly perceived that he did not know me, for turning from me to the soldier with an air of indifference, he said, 'Is this a prisoner or a deserter? What have you brought him here for, sirra?' 'Your' wisdom will regard him as you a Royalist Captain. 185 see fit, may it please you,' said the corporal. 'The man is a travelling merchant, and, overtaking him upon the road, close by old Dame MacDonagh's cot, I thought I might as well make a sort of prisoner of him that your honour might use him as it might appear most convenient;' he has many commodities which are not unworthy of price in this wilderness, and some which you may condescend to make use of your- self. May he exhibit the goods he has for sale, an't please you?' 'Ay, let us see them,' said he. 'Unbuckle your pack,' exclaimed the corporal, with the same tone of command with which, at the head of his guard, he would have said 'Recover your arms.' 'Unbuckle your pack, fellow, and show your goods to the captain—here, where you are.' a Eoyalist Captain. 187 before this. Have you often dealt with the military?' 'I have traded, sir,' said I, 'with the soldiery many a time, and always been honourably treated. Will your worship please to buy a pair of lace ruffles?—very cheap, your worship.' 'Why do you wear your hair so much over your face, sir?' said Oliver, without noticing my suggestion. 'I promise you, I think no good of thee; throw back your hair, and let me see thee plainly. Hold up your face, and look straight at me; throw back your hair, sir.' I felt that all chance of escape was at an end; and stepping forward as near as the table would allow me to him, I raised my head, threw back my hair, and fixed my eyes sternly and boldly upon his face. a Royalist Captain. 189 eyes hastily round the room, and observing a glowing fire upon the hearth, I suddenly drew General Sarsfield's packet from my bosom, and casting it upon the embers, planted my foot upon it. 'Secure the papers!' shouted the captain; and almost instantly I was laid prostrate and senseless upon the floor, by a blow from the butt of a carbine. I cannot say how long I continued in a state of torpor; Lut at length, having slowly recovered my senses, I found myself lying firmly handcuffed upon the floor of a small chamber, through a narrow loop- hole in one of whose walls the evening sun was shining. I was chilled with cold and damp, and drenched in blood, •which had flowed in large quantities from the wound on my head. By a strong effort I shook off the sick drowsiness which 190 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, still hung upon me, and, weak and giddy, I rose with pain and difficulty to my feet. The chamber, or rather cell, in which I stood was about eight feet square, and of a height very disproportioned to its other dimensions; its altitude from the floor to the ceiling being not less than twelve or fourteen feet. A narrow slit placed high in the wail admitted a scanty « light, but sufficient to assure me that my prison contained nothing to render the sojourn of its tenant a whit less comfort- less than my worst enemy could have wished. My first impulse was naturally to examine the security of the door, the loop-hole which I have mentioned being too high and too narrow to afford a chance of escape. I listened attentively to ascer- 192 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, By means of these apertures I saw that my dungeon was secured, not by a lock, as I had feared, but by a strong wooden bar, running horizontally across the door, about midway upon the outside. 'Now,' thought I, 'if I can but slip my fingers through the opening of the planks, I can easily remove the bar, and then——' My attempts, however, were all frus- trated by the manner in which my hands were fastened together, each embarrassing the other, and rendering my efforts so hope- lessly clumsy, that I was obliged to give them over in despair. I turned with a sigh from my last hope, and began to pace my narrow prison floor, when my eye suddenly encountered an old rusty nail or holdfast sticking in the wall. 194 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, their power; but at length my perseverance was rewarded, for, little by little, I suc- ceeded in removing the bolt so far as to allow the door to open sufficiently to permit me to pass. With some squeezing I succeeded in forc- ing my way into a small passage, upon which my prison-door opened. This led into a chamber somewhat more spacious than my cell, but still containing no furniture, and affording no means of escape to one so crippled with bonds as I was. At the far extremity of this room was a door which stood ajar, and, stealthily pass- ing through it, I found myself in a room containing nothing but a few raw hides, which rendered the atmosphere nearly in- tolerable. Here I checked myself, for I heard a Royalist Captain. 195 voices in busy conversation in the next room. I stole softly to the door which sepa- rated the chamber in which I stood from that from which the voices pro- ceeded. A moment served to convince me that any attempt upon it would be worse than fruitless, for it was secured upon the out- side by a strong lock, besides two bars, all which I was enabled to ascertain by means of the same defect in the joining of the planks which I have mentioned as belonging to the inner door. I had approached this door very softly, so that, my proximity being wholly un- suspected by the speakers within, the conversation continued without interrup- tion. Planting myself close to the door, I 13—2 198 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, sternly, 'do not obtrude your advice where it is not called for; this man, for whom you plead, murdered your own father!' I could not see how this announcement affected the person to whom it was ad- dressed, for his back was towards me ; but I conjectured, easily, that my last poor chance was gone, for a long silence ensued. Captain Oliver at length resumed: 'I know the villain well. I know him capable of any crime; but, by , his last card is played, and the game is up. He shall not see the moon rise to-night.' There was here another pause. Oliver rose, and going to the outer door, called: 'Hewson! Hewson!' A grim-looking corporal entered. 'Hewson, have your guard ready at eight o'clock, with their carbines clean, and a Royalist Captain. 199 a round of ball-cartridge each. .Keep them sober; and, further, plant two upright posts at the near end of the bridge, with a cross one at top, in the manner of a gibbet. See to these matters, Hewson: I shall be with you speedily.' The corporal made his salutations, and retired. Oliver deliberately folded up the papers with which I had been commissioned, and placing them in the pocket of his vest, he said: 'Cunning, cunning Master Hardress Fitz- gerald hath made a false step; the old fox is in the toils. Hardress Fitzgerald, Hardress Fitzgerald, I will blot you out.' He repeated these words several times, at the same time rubbing his finger strongly upon the table, as if he sought to erase a stain: a Royalist Captain. 201 A chill, sick horror crept over me as they retired, and I felt, for the moment, upon the brink of swooning. This feeling, however, speedily gave place to a sensation still more terrible. A state of excitement so intense and tremendous as to border upon literal madness, supervened; my brain reeled and throbbed as if it would burst; thoughts the wildest and the most hideous flashed through my mind with a spon- taneous rapidity that scared my very soul; while, all the time, I felt a strange and frightful impulse to burst into uncontrolled laughter. Gradually this fearful paroxysm passed away. I kneeled and prayed fervently, and felt comforted and assured; but still I could not view the slow approaches of certain death without an agitation little short of agony. 202 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, I have stood in battle many a time when the chances of escape were fearfully small. I have confronted foemen in the deadly breach. I have marched, with a constant heart, against the cannon's mouth. Again and again has the beast which I bestrode been shot under me; again and again have I seen the comrades who walked beside me in an instant laid for ever in the dust; again and again have I been in the thick of battle, and of its mortal dangers, and never felt my heart shake, or a single nerve tremble: but now, helpless, manacled, imprisoned, doomed, forced to watch the approaches of an inevitable fate—to wait, silent and moveless, while death as it were crept towards me, human nature was taxed to the uttermost to bear the horrible situation. I returned again to the closet in which a Royalist Captain. 203 I had found myself upon recovering from the swoon. The evening sunshine and twilight was .fast melting into darkness, when I heard the outer door, that which communicated with the guard-room in which the officers had been amusing themselves, opened and locked again upon the inside. A measured step then approached, and the door of the wretched cell in which I lay being rudely pushed open, a soldier entered, who carried something in his hand; but, owing to the obscurity of the place, I could not see what. 'Art thou awake, fellow?' said he, in a gruff voice. 'Stir thyself; get upon thy legs.' His orders were enforced by no very gentle application of his military boot. 'Friend,' said I, rising with difficulty, 204 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, 'you need not insult a dying man. You have been sent hither to conduct me to death. Lead on! My trust is in God, that He will forgive me my sins, and receive my soul, redeemed by the blood of His Son.' There here intervened a pause of some length, at the end of which the soldier said, in the same gruff voice, but in a lower key: 'Look ye, comrade, it will be your own fault if you die this night. On one con- dition I promise to get you out of this hobble with a whole skin; but if you go to any of your d d gammon, by Gr—, before two hours are passed, you will have as many holes in your carcase as a target.' 'Name your conditions,' said I; 'and if they consist with honour, I will never balk at the offer.' a Royalist Captain. 207 to remember me when we reach the town.' I cannot say whether I resolved right or wrong, but I thought my situation, and the conduct of Captain Oliver, war- ranted me in acceding to the conditions propounded by my visitant, and with alacrity I told him so, and desired him to give me the power, as he had promised to do, of executing them. With speed and promptitude he drew a small key from his pocket, and in an instant the manacles were removed from my hands. How my heart bounded within me as my wrists were released from the iron gripe of the shackles! The first step toward freedom was made — my self- reliance returned, and I felt assured of success. 208 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, 'Now for the weapon,' said I. 'I fear me, you will find it rather clumsy,' said he; 'but if well handled, it will do as well as the best Toledo. It is the only thing I could get, but I sharpened it myself; it has an edge like a skean.' He placed in my hand the steel head of a halberd. Grasping it firmly, I found that it made by no means a bad weapon in point of convenience; for it felt in the hand like a heavy dagger, the portion which formed the blade or point being crossed nearly at the lower extremity by a small bar of metal, at one side shaped into the form of an axe, and at the other into that of a hook. These two transverse appendages being muffled by the folds of my cravat, which I removed for the pur- pose, formed a perfect guard or hilt, and 214 An Adventure of Hardress Fitzgerald, 'Methinks it would then be too late,' answered I. 'But a chance is a chance, and a drowning man will catch at a straw. You are an honourable man, Captain Oliver. I must depend, I suppose,, on your good faith. "Well, sir, before I make the desired communication I have one question more to put. What is to befall me in case that I, remembering the honour of a soldier and a gentleman, reject your infamous terms, scorn your mitigations, and defy your utmost power?' 'In that case,' replied he, coolly, 'before half an hour you shall be a corpse.' 'Then God have mercy on your soul!' said I; and springing forward, I dashed the weapon which I held at his throat. I missed my aim, but struck him full in the mouth with such force that most of his front teeth were dislodged, and the a Royalist Captain. point of the spear-head passed out under his jaw, at the ear. My onset was so sudden and unexpected that he reeled back to the wall, and did not recover his equilibrium in time to pre- vent my dealing a second blow, which I did with my whole force. The point un- fortunately struck the cuirass, near the neck, and glancing aside it inflicted but a flesh wound, tearing the skin and tendons along the throat. He now grappled with me, strange to say, without uttering any cry of alarm; being a very powerful man, and if any- thing rather heavier and more strongly built than I, he succeeded in drawing me with him to the ground. We fell together with a heavy crash, tugging and straining in what we were both conscious was a mortal struggle. At length I succeeded 216 An Adventure of Bardress Fitzgerald, in getting over him, and struck him twice more in the face; still he struggled with an energy which nothing but the tremen- dous stake at issue could have sustained. I succeeded again in inflicting several more wounds upon him, any one of which might have been mortal. While thus contending he clutched his hands about my throat, so firmly that I felt the blood swelling the veins of my temples and face almost to bursting. Again and again I struck the weapon deep into his face and throat, but life seemed to adhere in him with an almost insect tenacity. My sight now nearly failed, my senses almost forsook me; I felt upon the point of suffocation when, with one desperate effort, I struck him another and a last blow in the face. The weapon which I wielded had lighted upon the eye, and the point a Royalist Captain. 219 proceeded, with the papers which I found as the ^soldier had foretold me, and the key of the outer lobby, to the door of the guard-room; this I opened, and with a firm and rapid tread walked through the officers, who rose as I entered, and passed without question or interruption to the street-door. Here I was met by the grim- looking corporal, Hewson, who, saluting me, said: 'How soon, captain, shall the file be drawn out and the prisoner despatched?' 'In half an hour,' I replied, without raising my voice. The man again saluted, and in two steps I reached the soldier who held the two horses, as he had intimated. 'Is all right?' said he, eagerly. 'Ay,' said I, 'which horse am I to mount?' a Royalist Captain. 223 He was hardly upon the ground, when my companion shot him dead with one of the holster-pistols which he had drawn from the pipe; and, leaping nimbly over a ditch at the side of the road, he was soon lost among the ditches and thorn- bushes which covered that part of the country. Another mile being passed, I had the satisfaction to perceive that the pursuit was given over, and in an hour more I crossed Thomond Bridge, and slept that night in the fortress of Limerick, having delivered the packet, the result of whose safe arrival was the destruction of William's great train of artillery, then upon its way to the be- siegers. Years after this adventure, I met in France a young officer, who I found had served in Captain Oliver's regiment; and he 'THE QUARE GANDER.' Being a Twelfth Extract from the Legacy of the late Francis Purcell, P.P. of Drumcoolagh. S I rode at a slow walk, one soft autumn evening, from the once noted and noticeable town of Emly, now a squalid village, towards the no less remarkable town of Tipperary, I fell into a meditative mood. My eye wandered over a glorious land- scape; a broad sea of corn-fields, that might have gladdened even a golden age, VOL. in. 15 228 'The Quare Gander.' and checking his steed into a walk he saluted me with much respect. The cavalier was a light-built fellow, with good-humoured sun-burnt features, a shrewd and lively black eye, and a head covered with a crop of close cuily black hair, and surmounted with a turf-coloured caubeen, in the pack- thread band of which was stuck a short pipe, which had evidently seen much service. My companion was a dealer in all kinds of local lore, and soon took occasion to let me see that he was so. After two or three short stories, in which the scandalous and supernatural were happily blended, we happened to arrive at a narrow road or bohreen leading to a snug-looking farm-house. 'That's a comfortable bit iv a farm,' observed my comrade, pointing towards the 'The Quare Gander' 229 dwelling with his thumb; 'a shnug spot, and belongs to the Mooneys this long time. "Tis a noted place for what happened wid the famous gandher there in former times.' 'And what was that ?' inquired I. 'What was it happened wid the gandher!' ejaculated my companion in a tone of in- dignant surprise; 'the gandher iv Ballyma- crucker, the gandher! Your raverance must be a stranger in these parts. Sure every fool knows all about the gandher, and Terence Mooney, that was, rest his sowl. Begorra, 'tis surprisin' to me how in the world you didn't hear iv the gandher; and may be it's funnin me ye are, your raverance.' I assured him to the contrary, and con- jured him to narrate to me the facts, an iinacquaintance with which was sufficient 230 'The Quare Gander.' it appeared to stamp me as an ignoramus of the first magnitude. It did not require much entreaty to in- duce my communicative friend to relate the circumstance, in nearly the following words: 'Terence Mooney was an honest boy and well to do ; an' he rinted the biggest farm on this side iv the Galties; an' bein' mighty cute an' a sevare worker, it was small wonder he turned a good penny every harvest. But unluckily he was blessed with an ilegant large family iv daughters, an' iv coorse his heart was allamost bruck, striving to make up fortunes for the whole of them. An' there wasn't a conthrivance iv any soart or description for makin' money out iv the farm, but he was up to. 'Well, among the other ways he had iv gettin' up in the world, he always kep a power iv turkeys, and all soarts iv poul- 'The Quare Gander.' 231 \ trey; an' he was out iv all rason partial to geese—an' small blame to him for that same—for twice't a year you can pluck them as bare as my hand—an' get a fine price for the feathers, an' plenty of rale sizable eggs—an' when they are too ould to lay any more, you can kill them, an' sell them to the gintlemen for goslings, d'ye see, let alone that a goose is the most manly bird that is out. , fttf^^ Iflwm- 'Well, it happened in the coorse iv time that one ould gandher tuck a wondhcrful likin' to Terence, an' divil a place he could go serenadin' about the farm, or lookin' afther the men, but the gandher id be at his heels, an' rubbin' himself agin his legs, an' lookin' up in his face jist like any other Christian id do; an' begorra, the likes iv it was_never_seen—Terence Mooney an' the gandher wor so great. 232 'The Quare Gander.' 'An' at last the bird was so engagin' that Terence would not allow it to be plucked any more, an' kep it from that time out for love an' affection—-just all as one like one iv his childer. 'But happiness in perfection never last£ long, an' the neighbours begin'd to suspect the nathur an' intentions iv the gandher, an' some iv them said it was the divil, an' more iv them that it was a fairy. ''"Well, Terence could not but hear some- thing of what was sayin', an' you may be sure he was not altogether asy in his mind f*' * about it, an' from one day to another he was gettin' more ancomfortable in himself, until he detarmined to sind for Jer Garvan, the fairy docthor in Garryowen, an' it's he was the ilegant haml^t^lhe^Jausiness, an' divil. a sperit id say a crass word to him, no more nor a priest. An' moreover he 'The Quare Gander.' 235 '" It's jokin' you are," says Terence, turnin' mighty pale; "how can an ould . gandher be my father?" says he. '"I'm not funnin' you at all," says Jer; "it's thrue what I tell you, it^ wandhrin' sowl," says he, "that's naturally j ^ tuck pissession iv the ould gandher's I,*l 1 j body," says he. "I know him many/1/ | \H [M I A'. ways, and I wondher," says he, "you/ do not know the cock iv his eye yourself," says he. '"Oh blur an' ages!" says Terence, "what the divil will I ever do at all at all," says he; "it's all over wid me, for I plucked him twelve times at the laste," says he. , '" That can't be helped now," says Jer; "it was a sevare_act_surely," says he, "but it's too late to lamint for it now," says he; "the only way to prevint what's pagt," 236 'The Quare Gander.' says he, "is to put a stop to it before it , happens," says he. '" Thrue for you," says Terence, "but how the divil did you come to the know- ledge iv my father's sowl," says he, "bein' in the owld gandher," says he. '" If I tould you," says Jer, "you would not undherstand me," says he, "with- out book-larnin' an' gasthronomy," says he; "so ax me no questions," says he, "an' I'll tell you no lies. But blieve me in this much," says he, "it's your father that's in it," says he; "an' if I don't make him spake to-morrow mornin'," says he, "I'll give you lave to call me a fool," says he. :" Say no more," says Terence, "that settles the~"business," says he; ^an' oh! blur and ages is it not a quare thing," says he, "for a dacerit respictable man," says he, "to be walkin' about the coun- 'The Quare Gander.' 239 let into the room agin, an' they all bigiiied to talk iv sindin' him the nixt mornin' to be sould for roastin' in Tipperary, jist as if it was a thing andoubtingly settled. But divil a notice the gandher tuck, no more nor if they wor spaking iv the Lord-Liftinant; an' Terence desired___the boys to get ready the kish for the poulthry, an' to "settle it out wid hay soft an' shnug," says he, "for it's the last j ami tin' the poor ould gandher 'ill get in this world," says he. 'Well, as the night was gettin' late, Terence was growin' mighty sorrowful an down-hearted in himself entirely wid the notions iv what was goin' to happen. An' as soon as the wife an' the crathurs war fairly in bed, he brought out some illigint potteen, an' himself an' Jer Garvan sot down to it; an' begorra, the more 'The Quare Gander.' 241 is not able to conthroul his licquor," says he, "an' to keep constantly inside iv a pint measure," said he; an' wid that he wished Jer Garvan a good-night, an' walked out iv the room. 'But he wint out the wrong door, bein' a thrifle hearty in himself, an' not rightly /.fknowin' whether he was standin' JMJ, his -f head or his heels, or both iv them at the SMfie~"tmie, an' in place iv gettin' into bed, where did he thrun himself but into the poulthry hamper, that the boys had settled out ready for the gandher in the mornin'. An' sure enough he sunk down soft an' complate through the hay to the bottom; an' wid the turnin' and roulin' about in the night, the divil a bit iv him but was covered up as shnug as a lumper in a pittaty furrow before mornin'. VOL. III. 16 242 'The Quare Gander.' 'So wid the first light, up gets the two boys, that war to take the sperit, as they consaved, to Tipperary; an' they cotchecT the ould gandher, an' put him in the hamper, and clapped a good wisp iv hay an' the top iv him, and tied it down sthrong wid a bit iv a coard, and med the sign iv the crass over him, in dhread iv any harum, an' put the hamper up an the car, wontherin' all the while what in the world was makin' the ould burd so surprisin' heavy. 'Well, they wint along quite anasy towards Tipperary, wishin' every minute that some iv the neighbours bound the same way id happen to fall in with them, for they didn't half like the notions iv havin' no company but the bewitched gandher, an' small blame to them for that —•—»-,•. same. 'The Quare Gander.' 245 ''' Who's that, that dar to call me nick- names?" says Terence inside, roaring wid the fair passion, "let me out, yoifjpblaspha- mious infiddles," says he, "or by this crass "stretch ye," says he. '"In the name iv all the blessed saints in heaven," says Thady, "who the divil are yeYr- '" Who the divil would I be, but Terence Mooney," says he. "It's myself that's in it, you unmerciful bliggards," says he, "let me out, or by the holy, I'll get out in spite iv yes," says he, "an' by jaburs, I'll wallop yes in arnest," says he. "' It's ould Terence, sure enough," says I Thady, "isn't it cute the fairy docthor found <• him out," says he. '" I'm an the pint iv snuffication," says Terence, "let me out," I tell you, an' wait till I get at ye," says he, "for begorra, the 250 'The Quare Gander. but Father Grotty would not give him his will. An' as soon as he was got quiter, they all endivoured to explain it; but Terence consaved he went raly to bed the night before, and his wife said the same to shilter him from the suspicion for havin' th' dthrop taken. ~~A.n' his Rave- rince said it was a mysthery, an' swore if he cotched anyone laughin' at the acci- dent, he'd lay the horsewhip across their shouldhers. 'An' Terence grew fonderjtnljpnder iv the gandher every day, uniiL,at last he died in a wondherful old age, lavin' the gandher affcher him an' a large family iv child- her. 'An' to this day the farm is rinted by one iv Terence Mooney's lenial and legitimate postariors.' BILLY MALOWNEY'S TASTE OF LOVE AND GLORY. ET the reader fancy a soft summer evening, the fresh dews falling on bush and flower. The sun has just gone down, and the thrilling vespers of thrushes and blackbirds ring with a wild joy through the saddened air; the west is piled with fantastic clouds, and clothed in tints of crimson and amber, melting away into a wan green, and so eastward into the of Love and Glory. 253 it loses them for a moment in the heaving verdure of white-thorns and ash, from among which floats from some dozen rude chimneys, mostly unseen, the transparent blue film of turf smoke. There we know, although we cannot see it, the steep old bridge of Car- rickadrum spans the river; and stretching away far to the right the valley of Lisnamoe: its steeps and hollows, its straggling hedges, its fair-green, its tall scattered trees, and old grey tower, are disappearing fast among the discoloured tints and haze of evening. Those landmarks, as we sit listlessly expecting the arrival of our modest convey- ance, suggest to our companion—a bare- legged Celtic brother of the gentle craft, somewhat at the wrong side of forty, with a turf-coloured caubeen, patched frieze, a clear brown complexion, dark-grey eyes, and a right pleasant dash of roguery in 254 Billy Malowneys Taste his features—the tale, which, if the reader pleases, he is welcome to hear along with me just as it falls from the lips of our humble comrade. His words I can give, but your own fancy must supply the advantages of an intelligent, expressive countenance, and, what is perhaps harder still, the harmony of his glorious brogue, that, like the melodies of our own dear country, will leave a burden of mirth or of sorrow with nearly equal propriety, tickling the dia- phragm as easily as it plays with the heart- strings, and is in itself a national music that, I trust, may never, never—scouted and despised though it be—never cease, like the lost tones of our harp, to be heard in the fields of my country, in welcome or endearment, in fun or in sorrow, stirring the hearts of Irish men and Irish women. of Love and Glory. 255 My friend of the caubeen and naked shanks, then, commenced, and continued his relation, as nearly as possible, in the following words: Av coorse ye often heerd talk of Billy Malowney, that lived by the bridge of Car- rickadrum. 'Leum-a-rinka' was the name they put on him, he was sich a beautiful dancer. An' faix, it's he was the rale sportin' boy, every way—killing the hares, and gaffing the salmons, an' fightin' the men, an' funnin' the women, and coortin' the girls; an' be the same token, there was not a colleen inside iv his jurisdiction but was breakin' her heart wid the fair love iv him. Well, this was all pleasant enough, to be sure, while it lasted; but inhuman beings is born to misfortune, an' Bill's divarshin of Love and Glory. 257 Well, at any rate, Molly Donovan tuck his fancy, an' that's everything! She had smooth brown hair—as smooth as silk—an' a pair iv soft coaxin' eyes—an' the whitest little teeth you ever seen; an', bedad, she was every taste as much in love wid himself as he was. Well, now, he was raly stupid wid love: there was not a bit of fun left in him. He was good for nothin' an airth bud sittin' under bushes, smokin' tobacky, and sighin' till you'd wonder how in the world he got wind for it all. An', bedad, he was an illigant scholar, moreover; an', so signs, it's many's the song he made about her ; an' if you'd be walkin' in the evening, a mile away from Carrickadrum, begorra you'd hear him sing- ing out like a bull, all across the country, in her praises. VOL. in. 17 of Love and Glory. 259 the smallest taste iv a right to intherfare, good or bad. • An' you're welcome to rayfuse me,' says he, 'whin I ax your lave.' says he; 'an' I'll ax your lave,' says he, 'whenever I want to coort yourselves,' says he; 'but it's your daughter I'm coortin' at the pre- sent,' says he, 'an that's all I'll say,' says he; 'for I'd as soon take a doase of salts as be discoursin' ye,' says he. So it was a rale blazin' battle betune himself and the ould people; an', begorra, there was no soart iv blaguardin' that did not pass betune them; an' they put a solemn injection on Molly again seem' him or meetin' him for the future. But it was all iv no use. You might as well be pursuadin' the birds agin flying, or sthrivin' to coax the stars out iv the sky into your hat, as be talking common 17—2 of Love and Glory. 261 at ould Tom Dundon's wake; an' whatever came betune them, she made no more about it but just draws her cloak round her, and away wid herself and the sarvant-giii home again, as if there was not a corpse, or a fiddle, or a taste of divarsion in it. Well, Bill Malowney follied her down the boreen, to try could he deludher her back again; but, if she was bitther before, she gave it to him in airnest when she got him alone to herself, and to that de- gree that he wished her safe home, short and sulky enough, an' walked back again, as mad as the devil himself, to the wake, to pay a respect to poor Tom Dundon. Well, my dear, it was aisy seen there was something wrong wid Billy Malowney, for he paid no attintion the rest of the evening to any soart of divarsion but the of Love and Glory. 267 Blakeney,' says Bonypart, 'is great for planning, no doubt,' says he; 'but Billy Malowney's the boy for action,' says he— 'an' action's everything, just now,' says he. So wid that Bonypart pushes up his cocked hat, and begins scratching his head, and thinking and considherin' for the bare life, and at last says he to the gineral: 'Gineral Commandher iv all the Foorces,' says he, 'I've hot it,' says he: 'ordher out the forlorn hope,' says he, 'an' give them as much powdher, both glazed and blasting,' says he, 'an' as much bullets, do ye mind, an' swan-dhrops an' chain-shot,' says he, 'an' all soorts iv waipons an' combustables as they can carry; an' let them surround Bill Malowney,' says he, 'an' if they can get any soort iv an advantage,' says he, 2(58 Billy Malowney's Taste 'let them knock him to smithereens,' says he, 'an' then take him presner,' says he; 'an' tell all the bandmen iv the Frinch army,' says he, ' to play up "Garryowen," to keep up their sperits,' says he, 'all the time they're advancin'. An' you may promise them anything you like in my name,' says he; 'for, by my sowl, I don't think its many iv them 'ill come back to throuble us,' says he, winkin' at him. So away with the gineral, an' he ordhers out the forlorn hope, an' tells the band to play, an' everything else, just as Bony- part desired him. An' sure enough, whin Billy Malowney heerd the music where he was standiri' taking a blast of the dhudheen to compose his mind for murdherin' the Frinchmen as usual, being mighty partial to that tune intirely, he cocks his ear a of Love and Glory. 269 one side, an' down he stoops to listen to the music; but, begorra, who should be in his rare all the time but a Frinch grannideer behind a bush, and seeing him stooped in a convanient forum, bedad he let flies at him sthraight, and fired him right forward between the legs an' the small iv the back, glory be to God! with what they call (saving your presence) a bum- shell. Well, Bill Malowney let one roar out iv him, an' away he rowled over the field iv battle like a slitther (as Bonypart and the Duke iv Wellington, that was watching the manoeuvres from a distance, both coiisayved) into glory. An' sure enough the Frinch was over- joyed beyant all bounds, an' small blame to them—an' the Duke of Wellington, I'm toult, was never all out the same man sinst. of Love and Glory. 273 Well she knew it ; her heart flutthered up like a little bird that id be wounded, and then dhropped still in her breast. It was himself. In a minute he was through the hedge and standing before her. 'Leum!' says she. 'Mavourneen cuishla machree!' says he; and without another word they were locked in one another's arms. Well, it id only be nansinse for me thryin' an' tell ye all the foolish things they said, and how they looked in one another's faces, an' laughed, an' cried, an' laughed again ; and how, when they came to themselves, and she was able at last to believe it was raly Billy himself that was there, actially holdin' her hand, and lookin' in her eyes the same way as ever, barrin' he was browner and boulder, an' did not, VOL. ni. 18 274 Billy Malowney's Taste maybe, look quite as merry in himself as he used to do in former times—an' fondher for all, an' more lovin' than ever —hoAv he tould her all about the wars wid the Frinchmen — an' how he was wounded, and left for dead in the field iv battle, bein' shot through the breast, and how he was discharged, an' got a pinsion iv a full shillin' a day—and how he was come back to liv the rest iv his days in the sweet glen iv Lisnamoe, an' (if only she'd consint) to marry herself in spite iv them all. Well, ye may aisily think they had plinty to talk about, afther seven years without once seein' one another ; and so signs on, the time flew by as swift an' as pleasant as a bird on the wing, an' the sun wint down? an' the moon shone sweet an' soft instead, an' they two never knew a ha'porth about of Love and Glory. 279 got u dacent funeral, an' all the other con- vaniences iv religion. An' so you may sup- pose it was pretty late in the night before all iv them got to their beds. Well, Tim Donovan could not settle to sleep at all at all, an' so he kep' discoorsin> the wife about the new cows he bought, an' the stripphers he sould, an' so an for better than an hour, ontil from one thing to another he kem to talk about the pigs, an' the poulthry; and at last, having nothing betther to discoorse about, he begun at his daughter Molly, an' all the heartscald she was to him be raison iv refusin' the men. An' at last says he: 'I onderstand,' says he, 'very well how it is,' says he. 'It's how she was in love,' says he,' wid that bliggard, Billy Malowney,' says he, 'bad luck to him !' says he; for by this time he was coming to his raison. 280 Billy Malowney's Taste 'Ah!' says the wife, says she, 'Tim darlint, don't be cursin' them that's dead an' buried,' says she. 'An' why would not I,' says he, 'if they desarve it ?' says he. 'Whisht,' says she, 'an' listen to that,' says she. 'In the name of the Blessed Vargin,' says she, 'what ift it?' says she. An' sure enough what was it bud Bill Malowney that was dhroppin' asleep in the closet, an' snorin' like a church organ. 'Is it a pig,' says he, 'or is it a Christian?' 'Arra! listen to the tune iv it,' says she; 'sure a pig never done the like iv that,' says she. 'Whatever it is,' says he, 'it's in the room wid us,' says he. 'The Lord be marciful to us !' says he. of Love and Glory. 281 'I tould you not to be cursin',' says she; 'bad luck to you,' says she, 'for an ommadhaun!' for she was a very religious woman in herself. 'Sure, he's buried in Spain,' says he; 'an' it is not for one little innocent ex- pression,' says he, 'he'd be comin' all that a way to annoy the house,' says he. Well, while they war talkin', Bill turns in the way he was sleepin' into an aisier imposture; and as soon as he stopped snorin' ould Tim Donovan's courage riz agin, and says he: 'I'll go to the kitchen,' says he, 'an' light a rish,' says he. An' with that away wid him, an' the wife kep' workin' the beads all the time, an' before he kem back Bill was snorin' as loud as ever. 'Oh ! bloody wars—I mane the blessed 282 Billy Malowneifs Taste saints about us !—tliat deadly sound,' says he; 'it's going on as lively as ever,' says he. 'I'm as wake as a rag,' says his wife, says she, 'wid the fair anasiness,' says she. 'It's out iv the little closet it's eoinin',' says she. 'Say your prayers,' says he, 'an' hould your tongue,' sayo he, 'while I discoorse it,' says he. 'An' who are ye,' says he, 'in the name iv of all the holy saints?' says he, givin' the door a dab iv a crusheen that wakened Bill inside. 'I ax,' says he, 'who are you?' says he. Well, Bill did not rightly remember where in the world he was, but he pushed open the door, an' says he: 'Billy Malowney's my name/ says he, 'an' I'll thank ye to tell me a betther,' . says he. 286 Billy Malowneys Taste says he—seem the Latin took no infect on him, at all at all, an' screechin' that you'd think he'd rise the thatch up iv the house wid the fair fright—' and thundher and blazes, boys, will none iv yes come here wid a candle, but lave your clargy to be choked by a spirit in the dark?' says he. Well, be this time the sarvint boys and the rest iv them wor up an' half dressed, an' in they all run, one on top iv another, wid pitchforks and spades, thinkin' it was only what his raverence slep' a dhrame iv the like, by means of the punch he was afther takin' just before he rowl'd himself into the bed. But, begorra, whin they seen it was raly Bill Malowney himself that was in it, it was only who'd be foremost out agin, tumblin' backways, one over another, and his raverence roarin' an' cursin' them like mad for not waitin' for him. of Love and Glory. 287 Well, my dear, it was betther than half an hour before Billy Malowney could ex- plain to them all how it raly was himself, for begorra they were all iv them persuadin' him that he was a spirit to that degree it's a wondher he did not give in to it, if it was only to put a stop to the argi- ment. Well, his raverence tould the ould people then, there was no use in sthrivin' agin the will iv Providence an' the vagaries iv love united; an' whin they kem to undherstand to a sartinty how Billy had a shillin' a day for the rest iv his days, begorra they took rather a likin' to him, and considhered at wanst how he must have riz out of all his nansinse entirely, or his gracious Majesty id never have condescinded to show him his countenance that way every day of his life, on a silver shillin'. 288 Billy Malowneys Taste An' so, begorra, they never stopt till it was all settled—an' there was not sich a weddin' as that in the counthry sinst. It's more than forty years ago, an' though I was no more nor a gossoon myself, I re- mimber it like yestherday. Molly never looked so purty before, an' Billy Malowney was plisant beyont all hearin,' to that de- gree that half the girls in it was fairly tarin' mad—only they would not let on—they had not him to themselves in place iv her. An' begorra I'd be afeared to tell ye, because you would not believe me, since that blessid man Father Mathew put ah end to all soorts of sociality, the Lord re- ward him, how many gallons iv pottieen whisky was dhrank upon that most solemn and tindher occasion. Pat Hanlon, the piper, had a faver out iv it; an' Neddy Shawn Heigue, mountin' of Love and Glory. 289 his horse the wrong way, broke his collar- bone, by the manes iv fallin' over his tail while he was feelin' for his head; an' Payther Brian, the horse-docther, I am tould, was never quite right in the head ever afther; an' ould Tim Donovan was singin' the 'Colleen Rue' night and day for a full week; an' begorra the weddin' was only the foundation iv fun, and the beginning iv divarsion, for there was not a year for ten years afther, an' more, but brought round a christenin' as regular as the sasins revarted. THE END. BILI.INO AND SONS, PRINTERS AND ELECTHOTYPERS, OUILDPORD. s. & a.