Volume I Part 9 (2/2)
What bastion or tow'r may thy billows restrain?
Resounds thy hoa.r.s.e current's loud thundering roar Round cloud-crested Slieve-Doon and wide Barna-More.[19]
How oft hath the foe-man deep plunged in thy wave, Thy billows encrimsoned with blood of the brave!
These towers shall yet crumble, these rampires shall fall, But thou, rapid Eske, be survivor of all!
While down to the confines of uncounted time, Thy waters roll onward in measure sublime!
Swift emblem of LIFE, changing, flowing anew; Still the symbol thou art of eternity too!
Unceasing thy current, impetuous thy force, Speeding on, full-tiding thy unaltered course: Still glide, regal stream! let thy bright waters flow, And foam 'gainst these bastions, which frown'd on the foe.
Oh, murmuring Eske! from thy deep rocky bed, O'er dream of my childhood sweet charms thou has shed, Whilst gurgling thy waters, to sleep lulled my head!
Nor shall mem'ry ever her pencil withdraw From thy waters, bright Eske, and thy heights, proud Tyraugh!
Flow on, rapid Eske! still roll in commotion; Unite thy deep foam with the wave of the ocean!
[19] _i. e._ The great gap, or pa.s.s to the mountains.
Time onward rapidly fled on downy pinions, and the birth-day of the Lady Adelaide, which occurred upon the Eve of All-Hallows, was now fast approaching, in celebration of which most magnificent preparations were making, had been made, and were in a progressive state of continuation at this hospitable chateau. The Duke and d.u.c.h.ess seemed fully resolved to spare no expense to testify, if indeed it were at all necessary so to do, their love and attachment to an amiable and affectionate daughter, who was most truly worthy of her parents' love, and of every respect and honour that could be awarded her.
CHAPTER VIII.
Vetus opinio est, jam usque ab heroicis ducta temporibus, Eaque et populi Romani et omnium gentium firmata Consensu, versari quandam inter homines divinationem Quam Graeci MANTIKE appellant, Id est, praesensionem, et scientiam rerum futurarum.
CICERO, DE DIVINATIONE.
The thirty-first day of October, _anno salutis_ sixteen hundred and ----, being the Eve of All-Hallows, happened also to be the anniversary of the birth-day of our heroine, which was duly to be celebrated upon this memorable day with more than its accustomed splendour, as we have already premised in the foregoing chapter.
Adelaide had now entered her seventeenth year; so rapidly doth old father Time speed along, borne upon his ever fugitive wings, verifying the truly appropriate motto that we have somewhere seen engraved upon the dial of a clock, ”DUM SPECTAS, FUGIO!”--”while you look on, I fly!”
Mrs. Judith Braingwain, Lady Adelaide's nurse and foster-mother, and who from the very beginning seemed resolved not to hold a subordinate place in the back ground of our story, but firmly determined to carry matters on in somewhat a consequential way, had now become her young Lady's _femme de chambre_, and was ever and had been on the alert in instilling into her youthful and susceptible mind the superst.i.tions of her native isle; and these stories, daily and hourly as they were repeated, did not fail to make an impression upon a youthful and romantic mind. This morning, at an early hour, she attended upon her young lady and foster-child, a t.i.tle she was pre-eminently proud of using upon all occasions. The Irish have been ever proverbial for loving their foster-children even beyond their own, and the ancient crone who made her appearance was a living proof of the truth of the a.s.sertion. Mrs.
Braingwain having respectfully and affectionately congratulated her n.o.ble foster-child upon the anniversary of her birth, entered into a long and elaborate series of reminiscences of all the sad and mournful events which had happened to herself and others upon the Eve of All-Hallows. But as we are inclined to imagine that the old lady's melancholy ditties are not very likely to awaken an interest and sympathy in the reader's breast, we have therefore magnanimously determined to suppress them altogether.
The loquacious old dame continued her long-winded reminiscences without the slightest compunction of mercy or conscience, until interrupted by the tolling forth of the breakfast bell, which luckily saved the Lady Adelaide from further prolixity, by at once silencing the garulous old nurse, whom she regarded from her early years, and wished not to offend.
Adelaide rejoiced at the timely interruption that cut short the prosings of the old crone, and promptly descended to the breakfast-room.
A number of young people of both s.e.xes were invited to dinner, to celebrate Adelaide's birth-day; and the party was to be enlarged in the evening by an invitation to crack nuts at the castle, which was sure to include the _nucleus_ of a good supper. All the princ.i.p.al persons of distinction for several miles around the castle were invited, and all with alacrity obeyed the festive summons.
Lady Adelaide, although not always much interested upon such festivals, yet upon this occasion manifested some degree of anxiety, which was caused no doubt by that n.o.ble generosity of character which she so eminently possessed, and ever invariably felt greater pleasure in the gratification of her friends, than in being personally gratified.
The dinner went off with much _eclat_; pleasantry, wit, and good-humour, all aiding with their potent charms. When the cloth was removed from the ducal table, and the desert and wines were duly placed in order, a stately plateau of confectionary and pastry arrived at the side-table, which was destined for the juvenile guests, who were there seated. That day was indeed a right busy one to all the cooks, scullions, and kitcheners of the household. The thrifty pastry-cooks of these happy days were most notable for, and a.s.sumed very considerable pride, in raising those superstructures called ”pastry fortifications.” The display chosen for this festival was the model of Tyrconnel Castle, flanked by bastion, battlement, and tower; armorial flags, heraldically emblazoned in sugar, decorated the summit of each tower and parapet; and the fosse was floated from its parent Eske, which, instead of a mountain-stream, supplied the said fosse with a broad and deep portion of excellent Spanish flummery, upon which was anch.o.r.ed a tiny Armada; the heights of the barbican and the embrasures of the terrace were defended with a long train of ”eatable artillery,” and manned by a large disposable garrison of sugar-almonds; the watch-towers were alternately constructed of jelly and _blanc manger_.
The Duke now gave the word of ”a.s.sault!” which command was incontinently obeyed, the juvenile party in every direction making one grand attack, by a general _coup de fourchette_, _de couteau_, _de cullier_. The a.s.sault was crowned with entire success; the fosse of Spanish flummery quickly disappeared; the whole train of ”eatable artillery” promptly were destroyed; the jelly and _blanc manger_ towers were scaled, battered down, and swallowed in a thrice; the Armada shattered and dispersed; the entire garrison without any remorse or mercy were devoured, and the ”pastry fortifications” completely razed, without leaving a wreck behind! This attack upon the confectionary _bijou_ much gratified the juvenile a.s.sailants, and highly pleased the n.o.ble hosts, and the grave company seated at their festive board were most marvellously entertained withal.
In some short time after, _selon des regles_, the sightless bard, old Cormac, was led in, bearing his harp beneath his arm. He courteously expostulated with those who would fain save him the trouble, by observing, ”that he had long borne that instrument his companion in joy or in sorrow, his last and almost only solace upon earth; and that when he was unable to bear his harp, his wish was then to be borne to the grave!” Upon the entrance of the aged minstrel into the saloon, the Duke ordered that a goblet of mead, foaming and sparkling to the brim, should be given to old Cormac; which was accordingly done; and then the toast of that high festival was to be drank, which he repeated: ”The health of the n.o.ble young Lady Adelaide,” said the sightless bard; and to which he was facetiously pleased to annex a friendly addition of his own, which was, ”and long may the Lady Adelaide reign!” This is a favourite expression of fervent zeal and affection used by the warm-hearted Irish to their superiors. Now in crowds advanced the young folks, who in various circles thronged around old Cormac, making various inquiries, and asking numerous questions: ”Was the old man always blind?”
”Nae, nae, that I was not. I once could see, and well; and _truly the light was sweet, and a pleasant thing it was to behold the light of the sun_! But now all is dim and dark. Yet I trust that I shall hereafter be permitted to behold the light of heaven! That fervent hope and my harp are my consolations during my pilgrimage of darkness!”
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