_brogue_ is the _ne plus ultra_ of possible discord to a musical ear,
I would rather listen to him than to _almost_ any _West-Endian_ of
my acquaintance. Bentley is _beside himself_ with admiration of Ned,
and I believe would like nothing better than a cave next door to our
mountain sage, where some future bookmaker, travelling this way, might
set down the neighbours as a settlement of the Troglodites, who, by
some wonderful chance, had been cast on shore upon the coast of Kerry.
I am not yet sure how to classify Bentley. He is very worthy of a place
in my Irish Pantheon, but I have not a niche ready for him, and as I
hardly think that I shall be able to unravel his character without
help, I will ask Mr. Otway about him, some day or other, if I cannot
satisfy myself respecting certain incongruities which I perceive in his
manner.
As we neared Glenalta, Frederick observed several traces of carriage
wheels on the road, and, on examining them more nearly, prophecied that
we should find company on reaching home.
"Not at this hour, surely," said Bentley. "Mr. Otway would not drive to
Glenalta when he is able to ride or walk thither; and my uncle being an
absentee at present, _who_ is there that could venture to pay a visit
at five o'clock with any hope of being at their more distant homes in
reasonable time for dinner?"
"Depend upon it," answered Frederick, "that whoever came to Glenalta
this day, is there still. Like Cacus' den, it exhibits no returning
footsteps. All the marks of the horses' feet are in the same
direction." See what it is to live in this out of the way sort of place!
The speculation of who could have come in our absence kept our minds
for the last mile in the most animating state of inquiry and suspense.
We rode up directly to the stable-yard, on entering which, a nice
calêche and smart dennett were drawn up in order. The stable-boy could
not tell more than that "_quality_" had come, and old Lawrence, whom we
met, could only add, that they were to stay, and were _English_, but
every body was in such a bustle that, he told us, he could learn no
more. On entering the house, we found the rooms deserted, and Fanny,
who came radiant with excitement, skipping down stairs to meet us, was
the only living thing that presented itself to our view. To our eager
inquiries she would only reply, that we must go and dress, and that
when we appeared in the drawing-room that we should know who were the
guests. There was no use in expostulating, Fanny was inexorable, and to
our toilettes we were sent. As soon as mine was completed, I hurried
down stairs, and Fanny again was the first to me. She took me by the
hand, and throwing open the drawing-room door, I found my aunt, Emily,
and Charlotte all dressed, and looking full of some mystery, respecting
which I was proceeding to ask questions, when two figures bounced from
behind the large Indian screen, and who should stand confessed before
me, but Russell and Annesley. Astonishment was no adequate word to
express what I felt at sight of them. How to account for the vision,
how to express amazement, pleasure, at the unexpected rencontre, I knew
not. What a creature of circumstance is man! Though I am fond of both
Russell and Annesley, and they are the only people besides yourself,
of whom I have spoken as friends since I came here, and introduced
by character to my relations, yet a meeting with either of them in
the Regent's Park, in Bond-street, at the Theatre, or the Opera, how
insipid! Nay, sometimes even a bore. Yet here at Glenalta, county of
Kerry, South of Ireland, it was rapture to behold their faces, though
neither their personal identity nor my own can have undergone any
material alteration since we met last at Cambridge. Is it that I,
without knowing it, have got a drop of Irish blood in my veins, or that
the features of my countrymen, my schoolfellows, my College friends,
operate naturally in a strange place, like the _Ranz des Vaches_ on
Swiss hearts in a foreign land? I must leave you to develope the cause,
I have only to do with effects.
After the first tumult of surprise was over, I gained in ten minutes
the following outline respecting the hows, whys, and whens of this
sudden incursion into the wilds of Kerry. From the time when first
Russell heard of my being here, he began to devise a scheme for
slipping over in summer, but as his father wanted him to join a party
who were going to the Highlands, he did not find it an easy matter
to accomplish his plan; having been told, however, by my sisters,
that I was _bound_ to Killarney, he determined on coming to Ireland;
and, meeting Annesley, offered him a seat in his dennett. The project
resolved on by these _wags_ was, to keep me in profound ignorance
of their movements, while they watched ours, and to meet us in some
romantic spot of our Lake scenery; but in pursuing their route, they
fell in with a travelling carriage which had just _smashed_ down in
the bog, and, having left all their English _sang froid_ behind them,
they immediately jumped from their own vehicle to make a proffer of
every assistance in their power to bestow. A lady, her maid, and
footman, were the party submerged by fate beneath the murky waves
of Acheron. Literally they were all struggling out of a dyke full of
water as black as if it flowed direct from the forge of Vulcan. The
knights flew to the rescue with all the zeal of chivalric adventure,
and conveyed their fair charge to a neighbouring cabin, where a blazing
fire, for which they were indebted to the same morass that had treated
them so uncourteously, repaired the evil, and set them moralizing on
bogs and bees, which, together with the bane, provide an antidote.
They found the lady very agreeable, and moreover they discovered that
she was steering for Glenalta, upon which they drew up their _visors_,
proclaimed their names, and told her that a friend whom they were
seeking was a guest under that roof. This coincidence pleased the lady,
as savouring of a regular adventure, and she at once invested herself
with the responsibilities of a godmother, and (one good turn deserving
another) prevailed on her deliverers to step into her carriage, and
resign theirs to the charge of her servant, promising to introduce them
to the Douglas family. Well now, you naturally inquire who is the lady
whose intimacy at Glenalta warrants such a stretch of privilege? She is
a Mrs. Fitzroy, with whom my aunt became well acquainted, during her
long sojournment in Devonshire, and whose society beguiled her sorrows
in the deep retirement of Linton. Mrs. Fitzroy is a highly-gifted
person, and a most agreeable addition to our party; but to proceed with
my narrative, her visit was not a surprise to my aunt, though a very
great one to the rest of the family.
A letter came just about the time when Emily and Frederick had finished
their works in the Glen, and the unlooked for pleasure which they had
prepared for their mother, in introducing her to the rustic temple
which they had with filial fondness dedicated to her, suggested the
idea of concealing Mrs. Fitzroy's intentions, and thus repaying the
young people in _kind_, by a pleasant necromancy. Nothing could be
better managed, and my aunt enjoyed, to use the language of old Du
Deffand, a _grand succès_. I was put in possession of all this before
Mrs. Fitzroy made her appearance. Frederick, who came next into the
drawing-room, was now informed of all that had happened; and as to
my two English comrades, they were at home in a quarter of an hour,
a delightful reception for them having been doubly secured by their
_sponsors_. Mrs. Fitzroy now completed our circle, in which Mr. Otway
and Bentley had previously taken their posts, and a merrier group you
never saw.
Mrs. Fitzroy deserves to be distinguished by a separate portrait,
and therefore I must prepare my canvass, and endeavour to sketch her
likeness. She appears to be about forty; her features are well defined;
replete with intelligence, and when lit up by a gay expression,
singularly playful and pleasing. Her faculties are strong and clear,
her understanding comprehensive, and her mind apparently equal to
any exercise of its powers which she chooses to put into action. She
is evidently possessed too of considerable sensibility, which makes
her peculiarly alive to whatever is interesting in the character of
others. She and my aunt do not in the least resemble each other, but
the difference between them is not such as to impede the growth of a
very warm friendship. The young people are excessively fond of her,
and her arrival at Glenalta is considered quite a jubilee. Though an
English-woman by birth, and living almost continually amongst people of
her own country, all her sympathies are Hibernian, and she has much of
that _raciness_ in her own composition which she says is so attractive
a composition in the Irish. The delight with which she goes into the
cottages to converse with the peasantry, is something very amusing
to witness. She says that, "Irish thoughts are so _fresh_, and the
expression of them so eloquent," that she feels as if transported amid
a new order of beings. She seizes on every idea, presented in whatever
guise, with such intuitive quickness, that she charms the poor people
in return, and Tom Collins paid her an odd sort of compliment yesterday
which brought tears into her eyes: "Indeed, God bless your honour,
you're just as if you were bred and born in the bog among ourselves."
This is her second visit to Ireland, though her first at Glenalta; and
she runs about in raptures collecting traits of disposition which seem
to have a native affinity with her own. I shall tell you more of her in
a future letter.
We are to set out, a formidable _muster_, for Killarney, at six o'clock
to-morrow, and I shall not seal this till the last moment, reserving my
next exclusively for a report of our expedition. As I tell you every
thing, I cannot conclude without mentioning a letter which I have
lately received from my eldest sister, and which has caused me much
disquietude; she tells me that my uncle the General is coming home from
India, which is fully confirmed by a letter direct from himself to Mr.
Otway, and it is my mother's wish that I should be in England when he
arrives. What is still worse, there is an evident anxiety expressed
by Louisa, who, I conclude, conveys the general feeling of the family
_conclave_ in this case also, that I should quit Glenalta directly.
The rustication which I am enduring will, she says, totally disqualify
me for polite society; my manners will become boorish, my person
_unsightly_, and, in short, it is _voted_, that as it is supposed
my health is perfectly re-established, I shall quit my banishment,
and revisit the regions of civilization, which it is apprehended I
may forget, if my recal be not speedy and imperative. Then certain
hints are thrown out respecting Adelaide, and that ass Crayton, whose
coronet, were it of ducal form, and decorated with strawberry leaves
imported from Brobdignag, could never hide the length of his ears. How
short a time has elapsed since these things which now perplex would
have given me joy? I should have been thankful for a good excuse to
bid adieu to Ireland for ever; and I should have thought my mother the
first of human manoeuvrers, and Adelaide the most fortunate girl in
London to have succeeded in _hooking_ that first-rate blockhead, who,
it is likely, I am told, may be my brother-in-law. Another subject
of painful reflection is added to these, and it is a relief to my
spirit to tell you _all_ that oppresses it. Such a change has taken
place in my own mind, that I see the character of others with new
organs. My personal identity almost seems doubtful to myself, and I
can hardly believe what is nevertheless true, that Louisa's letter,
independently of the intelligence that it communicates, has shocked
me in a manner difficult to be explained within my _own_ breast, and
scarcely possible to be expressed intelligibly to another. My sister's
language is lively; she speaks of people familiar to me, of amusements
in which a few months ago I used constantly to participate; of fears
and hopes, in all of which I could have sympathized, and of events
which would have excited my vanity and gratified my pride. Surely it is
something savouring of magic that can have converted these things into
their very opposites. You have often said that I was not formed for
the society in which I was placed; that my character would have taken
another direction had it not been _trained_ by habit to a distorted
deviation from its natural bias. Perhaps you were right; but, allowing
that you were so, still I cannot account for the metamorphosis. Apply
a ligature that shall bind the branch of a tree, or a limb of the
human body, in any particular curve, and there it rests. The bark,
the wood, the pith of the one; the muscles, tendons, arteries of
the other, obey the rule of distortion, and the removal of restraint
effects no alteration; the crooked will not become straight. On the
contrary, here I am a changeling in my mother's house; I see all
objects with new powers of vision, and such as, I lament to add,
render me ill satisfied with those who stand in the relations to me
which I have now learned to appreciate. With a mind just awakened
to affection, and a heart just opened to the genial influence of
domestic love and harmony, my feelings, which this soft climate of
Glenalta has unfolded, are blighted by the very thought of Selby.
Yes, I sicken at the bare idea of return, and a consciousness which
I only felt before upon _great_ occasions, now represents the whole
mechanism of that artificial compact sealed by fashion in the most
intolerable view to my imagination. I cannot call things by their old
names; the words no longer appear to suit their purposes, and the new
nomenclature, which now seems most appropriate, disgusts me. How can
I apply the terms bold, indelicate, unfeeling, unaffectionate, to a
_sister_, and not turn with horror from such sounds; or attribute the
base design of selling a child's happiness, carrying a daughter to
market, and disposing of her to the best bidder, with all the cunning
and trickery of professed jockeyism--how _can_ I attach such devices
to the character of a mother, and not shudder as I write the word?
Yet all this is but an unexaggerated picture of those relations, as
I have hitherto known them; an epitome of that world in which I have
had my being, and though a fugitive feeling, perhaps, occasionally
whispered disapprobation, and I _have_ now and then shrunk from certain
violations of modesty or integrity in the conduct of those around
me--such starts were but momentary. I quickly rejoined the beaten
track, and pressed forward with the giddy throng. When I look at my
aunt Douglas, I feel how I could worship such a parent. When I am with
Emily, Charlotte, and Fanny, I say to myself, if I had such sisters how
I could love them; then comes the sting, I _have_ a mother, I _have_
sisters, and my mind revolts from their society. Poor Ned of the Hill
told Bentley that "man is _never_ happy." He was right, Glenalta would
be Paradise did not the unwelcome intrusion of such reflections disturb
its felicity.
I was called away, or you might have had more of my melancholy musings.
We have had a charming ride to-day, and seen some _patches_ of scenery
so beautiful, that I can hardly suppose any thing to surpass them at
Killarney, but like the fine beryls which were shewn to you and me,
that had been found in the Kremlin, and looked as if they were set in
a mass of pewter, these favoured spots are surrounded by such savage
wildness as I can scarcely describe. You could hardly imagine any part
of the dominions which own a British Monarch for their Sovereign to
present such desolation to your view as met our eyes in this morning's
excursion; but now and then we lit upon an oasis in the desert, the
fertility and romantic loveliness of which would teach the veriest
wilderness to smile. Annesley, who sketches admirably, took some hints
for his port folio, which will astonish you some time or other. Emily
and Fanny were of our party, and are excellent horsewomen. Our guests
were delighted, and we had another cheerful meeting at dinner, but the
evening was marked by a discovery which has _knocked up_ poor Russell's
repose for _this_ night, I fancy, if not for a longer season. You know
his devotion to music, in which he excels, and you are aware of his
enthusiasm in collecting national airs, amongst which he thinks none so
melodious as the old Irish strain. When the harp and piano-forte were
opened this evening, we were listening to a _descant_ of Russell's on
the favourite theme, when Frederick said, "I _do_ think Charlotte that
you might now accompany yourself. I saw you practising some days ago,
and never heard you touch the strings more sweetly."
"I am only trying to recover a little of what I have lost," answered
Charlotte, "but, if mamma does not say no, I will do the best that I
can. My old Irish airs are in the dressing-room, will you bring them
here?"
Till this moment I had never remarked that Emily or Fanny had always
accompanied, and that Charlotte only joined in glees and duets, which
she sings with her brother and sister in excellent style; but just
before I came to Glenalta she fell, as she was dismounting from her
horse, and hurt one arm so much, that it has been ever since regaining
its ordinary strength. In any _other_ family your ears would have
been persecuted from morning till night with the details of such an
accident. At Selby, I know that Eau de Cologne, Arquebusade, and every
nostrum ever invented, would have been arrayed, and there would have
been an incessant demand on the attentions of every mortal throughout
the house, but such is the difference of education, that _self_, in all
its branches, is banished from Glenalta. I had nearly forgotten that
Charlotte was hurt, and as no one boasted of her powers, I never heard
a word of her peculiar talent in music till in this unpremeditated
manner it was called forth by Russell's dissertation on the character
of Irish melody. The book was brought, Emily saved her sister the
labour of tuning, and Charlotte, for the first time, saluted our ears
with such divine enchantment as quite baffles every attempt of mine to
convey a sense of it to your imagination. Russell furnished a _study_
to Mrs. Fitzroy, who was watching the variety of his emotion with the
deepest interest. His account of Charlotte's music, perhaps, may give
you the best idea of it that words can impart:--"it is not," he says,
"earthly harmony. No mortal finger touches that harp; no human voice
is uttered in the song; that strain floats in mid air, and the soft
southern breeze has sighed through the strings"--
"'Twas the Genius of Erin that rose from her cave,
And poured out her lament to the answering wave."
It is not in nature to conceive any expression of sorrow more
penetrating than that which mourns in the wail of an ancient Irish
ditty. Charlotte has contrived to procure several airs which are not
in Moore's collection, and which carry internal evidence of antiquity
in the irregularity of their _rhythm_, if I may apply such a term to
music. No sea bird's note was ever more sweetly sad; and she has
picked up translations from time to time of some poetical fragments
which she has adapted with great taste, as well as judgment to the
music, for which she has often been indebted to the peasants as they
pursued their daily toil; not that _they_ sing agreeably in almost any
instance, I am told; the extreme barbarism which is induced by such
poverty as reigns in the South of Ireland, is very unfavourable to
the Muses; yet they _will_ linger amongst a people who possess such
uncommon tact in appreciating their charms, notwithstanding the homely
reception with which they are obliged to be contented. A death-song
(_vulg. caöne_ or _keen_), the words of which, I believe, are published
in a late work on the Antiquities of this Kingdom, by Mr. Croker, and
which Charlotte has set to an old _howl_ that she heard a poor woman
uttering (for singing would be a misnomer) with nasal twang, as she
milked her cow, is the most heart-rending melody that I ever heard;
and a march which she plays, to which the famous Brian Boirombh led
his troops forward at the battle of Clontarf, is remarkable for a
character of pathetic grandeur that I never found before in martial
music. Russell's feelings underwent such excitement during the evening,
that had not his sex preserved him from the simile, we should have
compared him to a Sybil in the contortions of forthcoming inspiration.
I now perfectly comprehend the pleasure which, I am informed, some of
our first-rate public performers profess in exhibiting their powers
to an Irish audience. The Irish feel music in the "heart of heart,"
and express what they feel with peculiar energy. Our English guests
are _bitten_ I promise you; I heard them both emphatically declare
their gratitude to Mrs. Fitzroy for her introduction to this "charming
family," but I _must_ have a nap before we sally out upon Lake
adventures, so fare thee well. On my return you may expect a budget.
Vale, vale, yours ever,
A. HOWARD.
LETTER XV.
MISS HOWARD TO A. HOWARD, ESQ.
Dear Arthur,
Your letter of the 10th to me, has produced a horrible combustion, and
I am ordered to recal you immediately. Well or not well, you must be
off; and as fast as coaching and steaming can bring you it will be
prudent for you to appear before your angry parent, who will vent all
her bile on us, if you do not come and relieve Adelaide and me from her
ill humour. She accuses us of having persuaded her into consenting to
your Irish expedition, and protests, at the pitch of her voice, that
she would greatly prefer seeing you dead at her feet, to beholding you
return a methodist, which she is convinced you are already become. You
have no time to lose; but lest you should not consider the reception
which I am teaching you to anticipate from your _tender mother_, too
attractive, I have another reason to urge for your speedy appearance,
which will surely turn the scale, if you are in any doubt how to act.
I gave you a hint in my last, which will prevent your being surprised
with the sequel. _La mere_ has played her game so well, that were it
not for the dreams of affrighted fancy, which represent you with parted
locks of greasy sable, mounted on a tub, and haranguing the multitude
_al fresco_--in short, if she did not believe you in the high road to
become a field preacher, unless you are one already, she would have
reason to sound the trumpet, and claim the honours of a triumph. She
gave a splendid ball by way of _clincher_, for which her cards where
out when I wrote last to you. The bait took _à merveille_. Crayton and
Ady waltzed together, after which, mamma sailed round the rooms, and
whispered to three or four friends (good telegraphs), that she wished
Lord C. was not quite so _particular_ in his attentions. "_Le bruit
court_," so rapidly said _la bonne mere_, "that things are _settled_
by the world before the parties themselves have the slightest idea of
being serious." Of course you know the _eyes of Europe_ were directed
to the pair. The buz went round, and on the following day, old Lady
Bilton bethought her of a _cheap_ return, for at least half a dozen
parties, and sent off a note to the following effect, which mamma
received before six o'clock, at which hour Crayton made his morning
call to ask how we did. Old Bilton's _billet_ was to this effect:--
"My dear Mrs. Howard,--As no one can possibly take precedence of me
in the most lively interest for all that concerns you, I have made
it a point to deny myself this morning to some particular friends,
that I may write, to tell you of the rumours which are afloat. To be
_explicit_, Lord Crayton and Adelaide Howard occupy the public mind,
and the _on dit_ of this morning is, that the settlements are _en
train_. Do say, by a line, whether I may congratulate you. To a girl
of Adelaide's expectations, the report cannot be of any disagreeable
consequence if unfounded; but should it be true, I shall long to hear
particulars.
Yours very truly,
S. BILTON."