health will permit, and shall be happy to take you back in my suite.
You seem to have got into a set of odd-looking people here. _Natives_,
I conclude; and the sooner you leave them the better. As to me, I never
was so weary in my life; and am so frightened too, since I came into
this barbarous country, that I do not attempt to sleep, though I make
two of the servants sit up every night with loaded arms to repel an
attack. It is more than my nerves can endure; and I fear that I have
already suffered in a greater degree than I am aware of."
"Are you not pleased with this scenery," said I, "Lady Matilda?"
turning a deaf ear to absurdities which I could not answer: "Killarney
is the only place with which, after hearing such encomiums as all
people of taste lavish upon its exquisite beauty, I have not been
disappointed; and the lower Lake is nothing, I am told, in comparison
of what we have to see." "_I_ shall see no more, I promise you,"
replied _Miladi_; "I have had enough of this sort of thing. The air is
too damp--it disagrees with me; and besides, the object is achieved.
_We have been at Killarney_, and may pass our travelling examination.
This sort of thing is vastly tiresome, and too fatiguing for my nerves.
Then '_le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle_," I dread the Trosach, but I
suppose that we must make a tour in Scotland, Lord John is so bent upon
it; and really three days more in this horrible place would kill me."
Joyful to my ear were the sounds of parting; and having extricated
myself, I scarcely know how, from this "unreal mockery," I took my
leave, with a promise to call upon her Ladyship, and, bidding adieu
to the rest of her _Court_, I bounded over every obstacle of rock or
brush-wood, that separated me from my own party, and never felt the
triumph of nature and good sense to be so complete as when I regained
their society, and listened once more to their refreshing conversation.
We were not molested any farther. I saw some of Lady Matilda's
attendant swains yawn and stretch their arms, as I passed them by; and
it was not long before we discovered them re-embarked, with cloaks
spread across their knees, as a substitute for tables, and engaged in
two regular matches at cards, while their boat returned towards Ross'
Castle.
_We_ lingered untired till the moon rose upon the water, and never will
the impression of that evening be erased from my imagination. We rowed
round Dinas, we coasted Glena, and again took a view of Innisfallen
wrapped in shadows. We had two bugles on board, and were so fortunate
as to secure a man of the name of Spillane, who is a capital performer,
for our principal musician. Nothing could be more rapturous than the
sensations I experienced when M'Carty, whose fine athletic form,
as he sweeps the oar, is worthy of the canvass, called to Spillane
and his brother bugler, saying, "Come, my hearties, the oars are
flagging--blast up a tune that will make the boat walk of herself."
No sooner had the word been given, than the inspiring air of Stuart
memory, called "Who'll be King but Charley?" was admirably played. The
effect was magical. The sinews that had been flaccid before, from heat
and toil, seemed braced afresh. The men were silent--sat erect--and
appeared endowed with new powers. No longer a set of slouching boors,
mumbling each his quid of tobacco, which the peasants here chew as
the Turks do opium or beetle nut, our boatmen rose in dignity as they
yielded to the talismanic influence of a strain replete with the
expression of spirit and pathos, that _rainbow_ character of music, so
deeply interesting, and of which the Irish are so sensible, that it
seems to speak directly to their hearts, in a language all their own.
The boat really _did_ appear, as M'Carty said, "to walk of herself"
over the Lake, so long, so smooth, so vigorous, was the pull, and
such perfect time did the rowers observe; but Spillane's power of
enchantment was not confined to them. The whole band partook of the
emotion which he excited. My dear aunt turned her face towards the dark
wooded side of Glena, and rivers of gentle tears were silently mingled
with the waves below. Mrs. Fitzroy stood up, fired, as she afterwards
said, with such enthusiasm, that, like Semiramis of antient memory,
she could in that moment have placed herself at the head of a warlike
host, and led them on to death or victory. She absolutely looked pale
with the intenseness of sublime sensation. Russell was, as usual, in a
state of convulsion; and all were silent, till, actuated by an impulse
compounded of all the varied sensibilities of those around me, I gave
utterance to a passing wish that I was Charles-Edward. "And _I_ Flora
M'Donald!" exclaimed dear little Fanny; who seemed delighted at having
her tongue untied, and finding a precedent in my rapture for expressing
her own--but without the most distant idea of paying me a compliment,
by coupling her destiny with mine. _Her_ wish had, in fact, been formed
without reference to me; and, had I said anything else than what I
did say, it would have equally unlocked Fanny's lips, who longed to
speak, but who was withheld by a native modesty, which is inseparable
even from her moments of greatest excitement, from being the _first_
to do so. It was _her_ turn now to govern our sympathies. She had
touched a new spring, and many a gay smile shone through the tears
that had been flowing. Many a merry peal of hearty laughter brought us
again into cheerful communion. "Miss Fanny Douglas," said Russell, "I
envy Howard, who has received so explicit a declaration of your kind
feelings towards him." Fanny looked _blank_ for a second or two before
she caught his meaning, so _single_ had been the thought that occupied
her mind when she spoke--but seizing on the new idea presented, she
blushed violently, _only_ because it _was_ new; and with that exquisite
_naïveté_ which is worth all the treasures of Golconda, she hastily
answered, "Indeed, no: I did not think of any one except my favourite
Pretender alone; but that makes little difference, for my cousin knows
perfectly well that whatever Flora could accomplish for Charles-Edward
I should desire to perform for Arthur, if he stood in need of my
assistance."
I must now hurry you to the landing-place, transport you from thence
to the inn, dispatch supper, and distribute the group into their
several apartments. Russell contrived, as I squeezed into mine, which
is hardly large enough to turn about in, to impart his secret to
the faithful _porches_ of mine ear; and I have it now from his own
confession, that he is in the list of _killed and wounded_. I asked
whether he had any reason to expect reciprocity of disposition, but he
said no. "I _hope,_ but I certainly have no reason to _expect_. These
charming Douglasses love each other so much that it is very difficult
to penetrate their sentiments towards strangers. Girls in general think
little of mothers, except as necessary appendages. A _chaperone_ is
indispensable, and therefore young ladies tolerate their mammas in that
character; but these cousins of yours seem to idolize their parent, and
to be almost absorbed in studying her countenance, and reading every
thought as it arises in her soul." Annesley's entrance interrupted our
dialogue, which ended for the present; and the next morning saw us
gliding over the calm expanse which we had traversed the day before,
to visit a new region, of such perfection as, if I had not forsworn
all description, would puzzle me to find words in which to clothe it.
Traits and touches--mere memoranda--are all that I shall give you. Of
the first, I must relate one which is worthy of your moral sketch-book.
There is a narrow strait, of exquisite beauty, dividing the upper from
the lower lake, which, from the shelving nature of the ground, assumes
somewhat the appearance of a rapid. At this place it is customary for
the boatmen to quit their boats, which are dragged up by main force to
a joyous cry, which they raise in concert, as American sailors do in
heaving the anchor. It is a particularly cheerful sound, and pleasing
from the measured cadence in which it is given. While the boatmen, who
strip off their shoes and stockings, jump into the water, and ranging
themselves two and two, perform this feat, the company are always
landed, and pursue a winding path on the verge of the water, till the
boat is drawn into the lake above, and they are ushered into that
aquatic paradise.
On the night preceding this day, a poor fellow had reached this
narrow pass from the upper country in a tiny skiff. A sudden gust,
which frequently occurs in this amphitheatre of mountains, hurried
him so irresistibly down the watery descent that his little bark was
overset, and no human being living near the spot, his voice was not
heard;--unable to swim, he was drowned, and his lifeless corse was
extricated in the morning from a bed of arbutus, which lay so softly
on the surface of the lake that it appeared more like a Naiad's couch
than the bier of poor Florence O'Neil. Our men were none of them
related to him. They only knew who he was, and that he was unfortunate.
When we reached this little gorge, we were told to prepare for landing,
and M'Carty More standing up in the boat, poising his oar with graceful
ease, and making no more of its weight than if it had been a straw,
addressed himself to us all, and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope
that your honours will not take it amiss if we draw up the boat silent
and quiet, like the poor fellow himself that lay here this morning." So
saying, he and his comrades, without uttering a sound, pulled our bark
forward in the profoundest stillness; thus paying a tribute of delicate
feeling to the manes of a departed brother, which would have adorned
a far higher class in life. We were all affected by this incident,
which was quickly changed from a merely sentimental occurrence into one
of practical compassion and usefulness, by a proposal from my aunt,
that the same spot which had in the former moment been dedicated to
remembrance of the dead, should now be marked by tender care for the
living. "Here is my subscription," said she, "and when we have made
up a little sum for the widow and orphans of poor Florence, M'Carty
More, if you please, shall have the pleasure of bestowing it." Joy lit
up the countenances which had been just before honestly expressive of
sadness, and showers of choicest blessings were lavished on the mover
of this benevolent project. M'Carty's thanks were as warm, as if he
had been made rich himself; and when Russell good humouredly said to
him, "I suppose that you are flattered, by being chosen to convey glad
tidings to the poor woman and her children, and pleased that Mrs.
Douglas should put such confidence in you;" his noble reply was, "No
your honour. The lady would not have mistrusted _any_ of us; we may
all be bad enough, but there is not a man in the boat, I'll be bound
to say, would rob the widow. Every one of these lads, sir, gave half a
crown this morning to bury poor O'Neil, and while they had a potato
themselves they would not _begrudge_ the half of it to her that's left
desolate."
Mrs. Fitzroy gave a searching look, and shook her head at old Bentley,
who growled under his breath, but for _once_ did not express his
scepticism in words. We now entered the upper lake, and all language
fails to do justice here.
Do you remember the happy valley of Abyssinia, described in Rasselas?
Here is in water what that was in land. So completely are you
surrounded with the magnificent range of mountains which inclose this
little world of beauty, that you seem as if separated at once from
all that is external to it. You perceive no means of either egress
or ingress, and but for the recollection of having entered by that
narrow pass which I have described, might fancy yourself let down from
the skies. This lake is sprinkled over thickly with islands, every
one of which would make a picture in itself. These are covered with
the most luxuriant evergreens, the glossy brightness of which might
warrant a belief (were fairies as efficient personages as in the
"olden time") that they had been under water till your approach, and
rose at that moment into air, "dripping odours" in all the freshness
of a new creation. While we gazed in astonishment at the scene before
us, silence again took up her sceptre, and no one appeared willing to
disturb her reign.
I cannot with accuracy describe any feelings save my own, though I
think I could read several minds amid the group; but for myself, I
felt actually raised above this nether sphere, and as if I was holding
communion with Deity, in this the first hour of my life in which I
beheld his perfect workmanship, unspoiled by the finger of man. I
was in a _trance_, and should have lost every remembrance that human
creatures surrounded me, had not M'Carty More, in a half whisper
directed to Frederick, who wins every heart which was not already his
own, interrupted my musings by saying, "Mr. Douglas, I come from the
rightful kings of this place, and though I am a poor man now, I can
make _you_ king, sir, of one of these _islands_, and, with the help
o'God, you _shall_ be king of it sure enough: pull my hearties for
M'Carty More's Island."
We were awakened from our reverie. The tear drops were brushed from
aunt Douglas's eye. Mrs. Fitzroy's cheek, which blanches with emotion,
resumed its colour. Emily and Charlotte, whose countenances are the
most pelucid, mirrors of all that passes within, were illuminated by
Frederick's approaching triumph, and Fanny's ready joy sparkled so
brightly in her eyes, as, in a poet's fancy at least, to make the
rippling of the lake, while our bark shot nimbly through its gentle
bosom, shine with more dancing radiance than the sun alone could
have imparted. Now followed a scene of mock heroic, amusing from the
gravity with which it was conducted, and curious from the mixture of
knowledge and ignorance, of law and fiction, which it involved. We
were marshalled by M'Carty in a circle, on this beautiful _spangle_ of
earth, the sovereignty of which was to be bestowed upon our youthful
chief. Frederick was placed in the midst; a sod was cut from the turf,
and an arbutus twig severed from the shrubs which hung over our
heads. With these insignia of feudal investiture, M'Carty approached
the monarch who was to be, and kneeling on one knee presented _seizin_
of his dominions, with an appropriate enumeration in correct Latin,
of the rights and royalties intended to be conveyed by this Imperial
grant, the boatmen forming a semicircle exterior to the ring already
mentioned. When Frederick received the symbols of his enfeoffment with
a graceful bow, a shout from the men proclaimed the act of acceptance;
and next followed the anointing, which was _here_ performed with
"mountain dew," alias whiskey, which I suspect M'Carty and his fellows
prefer on such occasions to oil. Two or three bottles of this Irish
usquebaugh were brought from the boat, one of them was dashed upon a
rock, and the name of "Frederick's Island," pronounced by M'Carty, who
enacted the part of high-priest. The next step was to quaff a libation
to the honour of the new monarch, in which part of the ceremony he was
obliged to join; and after drinking to the health and happiness of the
crew, Fred. was installed, desired to take his seat on the rude throne
prepared by spirituous unction for his accommodation, and to exercise
his first act of authority, in arresting the arm of Russell, who was
busily employed in cutting a fine walking-stick of arbutus.
The party were again seated in their boat, when old Bentley repaid
Mrs. Fitzroy's piercing look, of which I told you, _in kind_, and
with his _grimmest_ expression of discontent, turned to her, with,
"_There_ madam! _There_ are cunning rascals for you! Those scoundrels
will elect a king from every boat-load of blockheads that they bring
to the upper lake during the season, and will wheedle money out of the
_royal_ pocket, and guzzle whiskey at the general cost, till they have
not an eye left in their heads." How Mrs. Fitzroy would have turned the
edge of old Bentley's ire if she had been disengaged, I cannot tell,
but she was listening with so much interest to Domine, that Bentley's
tirade passed over her mind, and seemed to be shaken from it like
"dew drops from the lion's mane," while she gave her attention to Mr.
Oliphant, who is really a mine of knowledge, and who possesses the art
of rendering it always pleasing, by his unaffected simple manner, the
accuracy of his information, and the tact with which he imparts it.
The _investiture_ which we had just witnessed, called forth an
agreeable and instructive account of consecration in all its varieties
of mode, from the field of Luz mentioned in the 28th chapter of
Genesis, to the stone alluded to in the Odyssey, on which Neleus sat
"equal in counsel to the Gods." Pope, I remember, translated this
passage in four lines, which I gave to Mrs. Fitzroy, in pencil on a
scrap of paper, as Domine paused on his tide of learned lore:
"The old man early rose, walk'd forth and sat
On polished stone, before his palace gate;
With unguent smooth, the lucid marble shone,
Where ancient Neleus sat, a rustic throne."
From thence Mr. Oliphant adverted to the superstitious accounts of
the Baithylia, or consecrated stones of Phoenicia mentioned in
_Sanchoniatho_, and a great deal more very pleasantly communicated,
which you shall have in my journal, but not _here_. I must, however,
give you the history of the stone which you and I looked at not long
ago, in Westminster Abbey. It lies, you may recollect, under the old
chair on which the Kings of England are crowned in the Chapel of
Edward the First, and a Scotchman who was standing by when you and I
were there took the whole credit of this sacred relique to himself,
declaring that it was originally a supernatural gift to his country,
and had a prophecy attached to it of the highest importance to the
Caledonians. It was called "_Ni fallit Fatum_," and gave rise to the
verses which are translated into English thus:
"Or Fate's deceived, or Heaven decrees in vain,
Or where they find this stone the Scots shall reign."
But it seems that this precious morsel of antiquity, said to be the
pillow of Jacob, on which he laid his head, when he slept on the plain
of Luz, and dreamed of the ladder that reached to the skies, was really
wrested from Ireland (whither it had travelled from its original site,
first to Jerusalem, from thence into Spain, and thence again into this
country, where it lay treasured as it deserved to be, in the great
Cathedral on the rock of Cashel) by Fergus the First of Scotland, who
conveyed it to Scone, and on it the Scottish Kings were always placed
to be crowned, till Edward the First transported this "Patriarchal
bolster" to Westminster, where it is still preserved with veneration,
not unmixed perhaps with a certain dread of seeing the dynasty pass
away, should the stone set out again upon a _tour_, as the marriage of
Margaret of Scotland into the Royal Family of England, gave colour to
the fidelity of that prophecy to which I have alluded, when this bone
of contention quitted its Northern abode.
If Domine had not soon come to the end of his story, we should probably
have been out all night in the lakes, for so intense was the curiosity
of M'Carty and his myrmidons to devour every syllable of the tale, that
they lay upon their oars, and appeared in danger of being metamorphosed
into images of stone themselves, such fixed attention did they bestow
upon a legend which I am certain they quickly made their own.
To avoid producing a dearth of paper at Tralee, whence I procured
my last supply, I shall now pack you up, and placing you in the car
of a balloon, permit you no longer to loiter your happy hours amid
scenes of enchantment. You must neither land on Ronayve's Island,
nor accompany me to Fure Lake, nor wander by moonlight through the
Abbey of Muccruss, nor toil to the top of the eagle's nest, nor visit
Dunlow-gap, Mangerton punch-bowl, nor any other spot in this region
of fascination. Were I to indulge your passion for romance, and allow
you to linger any longer at Killarney, I should fear your becoming a
hermit, and requesting Lord Kenmare's permission to build a cell, in
which the remainder of your days would be dedicated to solitude and
contemplation. Take then your bird's-eye view of the map, as it lies
spread beneath you; return to your inn; with a mind torn between love
and curiosity, quit the society of our charming female companions,
leaving them under the care of Messieurs Otway, Oliphant, and Bentley
senior, descend from your balloon, mount a rough Kerry poney, and if
you can ride like a Tartar through the desert, you may join Russell,
Annesley, Frederick, Bentley _secundus_, and your humble servant,
in a two day's trip over Kenmare mountain, the Priest's leap, and
through Neddeen to Bantry. Oh Glengariffe, surpassing Glengariffe! thou
"brightest gem of the Western wave," in what words am I to paint thee?
This transcendent spot was the limit of our excursion, and how can I,
in general terms, more aptly sum up its attractions than in telling
you, that _reeking_, as we were, from Killarney, the matchless
scenery of which was still vibrating on every retina, shadowed in our
imaginations and resting in the hearts of all our party, who felt as
if nature was reposing, admiration drained to its dregs, and language
run out, by all that we had been called upon to see, think, and feel,
so recently, Glengariffe strung each palsied nerve anew. We rose "like
giants refreshed with wine," and experienced that delight which only
the highest excitement of mental or physical excellence occasionally
produces, namely a consciousness of power within ourselves, of which,
till thus extraordinarily elicited, we do not dream of being in
possession. Perhaps this is one of the most pleasurable feelings of the
human mind, and we now enjoyed it rapturously, surprising our own ears
with the awakened flow of eloquence, poured out from fountains which
might have been supposed already exhausted; and admiring beauties in
all around, the greatest charm of which, though sometimes undiscerned,
is the vivid reflection from our own souls. But you must only glance
your eye along that blue expanse, and catch a hasty glimpse of that
splendid bay, where the concentrated powers of France, while menacing
destruction, were themselves destroyed. Before we regain our inn, and
rejoin our friends, you must pause for a moment with me in a scene
which, from its singularity, delayed our retrograde progress.
Having mounted our shaggy steeds, we turned our faces, like Sir
Bertram, "to the wolds," and conceitedly imagined ourselves able to
retrace, unassisted, the homeward path; but we were mistaken; and after
proceeding for sometime without meeting a living creature of whom to
ask the way, we at length espied a thing scarcely human, naked almost
to the hips, and trotting at a quick, equal pace, holding a staff
horizontally in both hands, and having a tattered weather-beaten bag
that looked like an old Spanish wine skin, strapped upon his back.
"Who, and what are you?" exclaimed Russel.
This was not a conciliating address, and accordingly it was rudely
answered: "May be as good as yourself. I am a post; and my father was a
post before me."
This letter-carrier for so we interpreted him to be, never relaxed his
steady trot, nor condescended to be angry. Calm contempt appeared to be
the feeling which dictated his reply; and he would have passed on his
way with-deigning to look behind him, if Frederick had not said, in his
cheerful manner, "My good fellow, I know that you are the very man to
tell us how we shall get into the track that leads over the mountain to
Killarney, for I have lost my way, and my friends here are strangers?"