MARY TUDOR.
Longevity, although desired by almost all human beings, is a subject of
contemplation to very few. We attach, in general, a greater interest to
an aged tree or an antique building, than to a venerable individual
whose life may connect with the present time the stirring period of the
American war of Independence or the awful period of the French
Revolution. It is, perhaps, better for ourselves that as we attain old
age we should meet with respect and care, without being sought as close
companions by our juniors: we thus become habituated to think more on
those who have gone before us, and of our own approach to that solemn
moment which is to quench the socket-glimmer of earthly existence.
Nevertheless, we occasionally meet with some whose mental faculties have
not yielded to the attacks of time, in proportion to the effects
produced by his inexorable hand upon the corporeal frame, and whose
society is sought by many who observe that they can, even in the years
of senectude, revert to their early days, and seek to enjoy the
pleasures of memory by detailing to others the scenes through which they
have passed, and the points of character they have noted. Such a person
I can truly designate my father to have been. His frame was robust, and
his general health very good, even after he had attained to fourscore
years. Accident had rendered him lame, but his mind and memory were
strong, and his disposition affable. Whilst he perfectly recollected the
past, he evinced a warm interest in the present; and almost immediately
after the opening of the Great Southern and Western Railway of Ireland,
he sped from Dublin to Cork and back, merely to contrast the five hours'
performance of the "Iron Horse" with the four days' journey of his early
years. It was a great gratification to him to take a slow drive through
Dublin, and recount to his companions, of whom I was generally one, the
former appearance of places, and the habits and peculiarities of their
occupiers; but no part of the city called forth his recollections more
strongly than the locality of Christ Church Place. He never mentioned it
by its present name; with him it continued "Skinner Row;" and it was no
small pleasure to him to remark that the house in which he had lived and
prospered at the beginning of the present century, was still remaining,
whilst the entire of the opposite side of the "Row" had disappeared. He
regretted the change even whilst he admitted the advantage of the
alteration; but he could not refrain from reinstating in his
imagination, and describing, the narrow-fronted houses within eighteen
feet of the opposite dwellings, rising to a height which effectually
precluded even half-an-hour's sunshine from reaching the thoroughfare.
His mind reverted to the former tenants, jewellers, silversmiths, and
booksellers, by which trades the "Row" had been monopolized; and it was
more agreeable to him to recollect Dick Tudor, Tom Delancy, Jemmy
Wilson, and many others, cleaning their windows and sweeping their
shops, than to remark that such avocations, in the present day, had
ceased to be incumbent on even the junior apprentices, and had devolved
upon menial servants.
One evening he was enjoying the society of two or three convivial
friends. He had taken a drive that day, accompanied by me, and had
halted so long in Christ Church Place, that the hackney carmen might
almost have suspected that he meditated an invasion of their stand. He
enjoyed his drive and his dinner, and having attained to his second
glass of whiskey-punch, he commenced, at the instance of his companions,
the narration of one of his "Skinner Row" reminiscences.
Dick Tudor was a goldsmith and jeweller. He had the reputation of being
the wealthiest man in the locality. He neither lent nor borrowed. His
intercourse with his neighbours was very limited. He was a widower, and
had an only child, of whom he was excessively fond. His tastes were in
his business; he had a love for his art, and would execute a beautiful
design for a smaller comparative profit than would satisfy him for
second-hand plate or mere repairs; but his affections excluded every
other worldly object, and were concentrated in his daughter, Mary Tudor.
She was about eighteen years of age at the time to which the
commencement of the narrative refers, and although reared in a city, was
as simple and unaffected in her manner as if her life had previously
been passed on mountain heather or in mossy dell. She was a brunette of
perfect features, and small but symmetrical figure. Her disposition
appeared to be gay, and almost puerile, and none would suppose that in a
trader's daughter, whose jocund smile and sparkling eyes seemed to seek
and spread mirth around her, there was a latent intensity of feeling,
and a determination of character, worthy of the noblest cause or of the
highest lineage.
Skinner Row had its attachments, jealousies, and little diplomacies as
fully as ever they existed even in more important localities. In one
respect, it possessed a material for civic intrigue greater than could
be found in any other part of Dublin in the last century. The Row
commanded, in the Common Council, one seat for the Stationers' Guild,
and two for the Goldsmiths. As to those objects of ambition, there was a
certain fixed understanding--there should be no division outside their
own precincts, and the members chosen should be men of the Row. Amongst
themselves, intrigues, insinuations, or open opposition might be freely
practised; but once they had determined on the man to be supported,
every vote should go to him. Dick Tudor and James Wilson were the
goldsmiths chosen for the Common Council, and the distinction thus
conferred excited great envy in the mind of Tom Delancy, whose
discontent was kept fully alive by his son, not on account of civic
honours, but because young Christian Wilson had contrived to stand
between him and the sun in the rays of which he wished to bask, namely,
the eyes of pretty Mary Tudor.
Old Tudor and James Wilson were friends, not very intimate, but perhaps
liking and respecting each other more on that account. Tudor's daughter
and Christian Wilson were lovers, and the infrequency of their meetings
only rendered their occasional interviews more delectable. The
neighbours observed the attachment of the young people before their
parents suspected its existence; but the moment Tudor perceived a
preference evinced by his daughter for young Wilson, he sedulously
endeavoured to prevent all future communications between them. He became
suddenly anxious that Mary should visit some relatives in the County of
Wexford, about whom he had for years expressed no interest. He thought
change of air would materially serve her health, although no other eye
could notice the slightest indication of illness, or even delicacy of
constitution. Accompanied by an elderly female attendant, she left
Dublin by a conveyance termed Good's Long Coach, which the proprietor,
William Good, advertised as the perfection of cheap and expeditious
travelling. It left the Ram Inn, Aungier Street, Dublin, on each Monday
morning, at an early hour, so as to ensure reaching Wicklow town on the
succeeding night. Tuesday saw the vehicle achieve a further progress to
Gorey, and on Wednesday evening it reached Wexford. It returned to
Dublin in the three succeeding days, and thus enabled the public to have
a cheap, safe, and comfortable communication, to and fro, between two
places about ninety English miles asunder, within the short space of six
days.
Three or four weeks elapsed, and Tudor mentioned, in answer to some kind
enquiries, that Mary was enjoying herself wonderfully at Kilmore, in the
County of Wexford, and that she had written him a very interesting
description of the Saltee Islands, St. Patrick's Bridge, and the Lady's
Island. She was very comfortable with a worthy cousin and his wife, both
arrived at an age which made them appreciate a life of quietude. They
were very kind to her, and they had no family or nearer relations than
himself and Mary. Her visit was likely to lead to considerable
advantages. He would never have disclosed his daughter's temporary
residence if he had not believed Kilmore to be as difficult of access to
Christian Wilson as Madeira or Malta would be to a gallant of the
present time. The lover was a youth of very peculiar character--clever
and active, but rash and inconsiderate. Having ascertained that the
smacks which traded between Wexford and Dublin, if favoured by a fair
wind, could make the run in a few hours, he determined on seeing Mary
Tudor. His father had allowed him as a perquisite the profits arising
from making "balloon guineas" into rings, and he had thereby acquired a
few pounds, as it was a very prevalent custom for females of the humbler
classes to invest a guinea in a ring, and carry their money on their
fingers. Savings-banks were then unknown.
Christian informed his father that he wished to go, for a few days, to a
friend in Drogheda, and obtained his consent. He left home in the
evening, ostensibly to go by the mail, but he sojourned to Hoey's Court,
and was seen there in company with some young men whose characters were
unknown, or worse. They left Hoey's Court about ten o'clock, and Wilson
betook himself to Sir John's Quay, and went out of the river in the
smack "Selskar," of Wexford, on the night-tide. After midnight Dick
Tudor's workshop was robbed; but the guilty parties did not all escape.
Two were apprehended leaving the premises, and were recognised as having
been seen in Christian Wilson's company in Hoey's Court for some time
after his own father supposed him to have left Dublin for Drogheda. A
letter was posted to the latter place, and, to old Wilson's
astonishment, he received a reply that his son had not gone there. Where
was he?
Whispered malice is most intense. Delancy and his son added assertion to
suspicion, and revelled in the idea of a broken-hearted father, and a
disgraced, degraded son, being forced by the awkward circumstances,
magnified and industriously disseminated, to abandon, one, the coveted
representation of the Goldsmiths' Guild, and the other, the pursuit in
which all the affections of his heart and the energies of his mind were
concentrated--the love of Mary Tudor.
In a few days Christian Wilson returned to Dublin. His father's
reproaches were fierce and unmeasured, and became a perfect storm of
rage when the young man refused to state where he had been, or for what
purpose he had left home. Old Tudor aggravated the quarrel between the
father and son, by accusing them of a design to entrap his daughter into
a clandestine union, to which James Wilson replied that he would sooner
transport his son than consent to his marriage with Tudor's daughter.
The circumstances of the robbery were fully investigated. They did not
directly inculpate Christian; but enough appeared to sully his
reputation, and to prove that he was not sufficiently guarded in his
associations. Old Delancy expressed his good-natured regret that the son
of one "Wainscot man"[2] should be strongly suspected of robbing
another. Young Delancy, with affected benevolence, expressed his
_sincere_ gratification that Christian had not been _caught_; and there
were not wanting some kind-hearted individuals to convey his
observations to the unhappy subject of them. The young men casually met
in Christ Church yard; an explanation was demanded; and the demand was
answered by the sneering remark, that the affair explained itself.
Christian was maddened by his rival's taunts, and gave Delancy a fearful
beating. A blow or fall produced concussion of the brain. The assailant
had to fly; and his father determined to send him, banished and
unforgiven, to the West Indies, consigning him to the care of a relative
who had been for several years in Barbadoes.
Mary Tudor received a letter written at Liverpool, and announcing the
immediate departure of Christian Wilson for his tropical destination. In
it he simply stated the circumstances which led to his expatriation, and
renewed his vows to her of deep affection and fidelity. The young woman
at once determined on departing from Kilmore; and on her arrival in
Dublin placed Christian's letter in her father's hands. She insisted on
the examination of the master and crew of the Selskar; and they proved
that they dropped down the river with Christian on board, two hours
before the time of the robbery. But this was not all. The guilty parties
confessed that the young man was not with them, and accounted for having
sought his society in Hoey's Court, for the purpose of eliciting some
information as to Tudor's premises into which they were desirous of
effecting an entrance. Young Delancy had recovered. Tudor and James
Wilson had been reconciled; but Christian had sailed in the ship
"Hyacinth," of Liverpool, and he must see Barbadoes before he can become
aware of Mary's truth and her determined exertions to remove all
aspersions from her lover's character.
The "Hyacinth" never reached her destined port. Her fate was
conjectured, but was not ascertained, as it would be in the present time
of superior arrangements in agency and communication. Her owners
received their insurance as for a total loss, and James Wilson believed
that his hapless son had been entombed in the ocean.
At the commencement of the war between England and her revolted colonies
of North America, two commissioners were sent out, in the hope that
differences might be reconciled and peace restored. The Earl of Carlisle
and Mr. Eden (afterwards Lord Auckland) were proceeding on this mission
in a frigate, and after having encountered very stormy weather, they
fell in with a boat in which were several persons, reduced to the utmost
extremity by hunger and fatigue. They were rescued, and recovered their
strength by rest and nutrition. All, except one, were sailors, and they
were, perhaps very summarily, added to the frigate's crew. The landsman
was of a melancholy temperament, although young and naturally strong. He
was, however, of an humble and unpresuming manner, which did not
indicate vulgarity or ignorance. He expressed a desire to make himself
useful, cleaned some watches for the officers, and kept the plate of
their mess in proper order. Curiosity induced Lord Carlisle to accost
him, and the communication resulted in several acts of kindness on the
part of the nobleman, which were respectfully and gratefully, and
perhaps it may be said, gracefully, received. His Lordship's interest in
the poor shipwrecked fellow increased; and on their arrival in America,
he obtained for his protégé, from Sir Henry Clinton, an ensigncy in the
army.
Meanwhile Christian Wilson was forgotten in Skinner Row by all except
one. They had "mourned him dead in his father's _house_." His family
never adverted to his fate, for the subject was of painful recollection
in more senses than one. But Mary Tudor, although she seldom spoke of
Christian, would not admit that he was dead. Suitors for her hand were
numerous, but to none would she give the slightest encouragement, and
Delancy soon discovered that indifference was too mild a term to
describe her feeling towards him. Some years had passed. Her father had
attained complete senectude, but was still sound in mind and hale in
body. He lived happily with his daughter, who consulted his wishes on
every subject, except his anxiety to see her married in comfort and
respectability before he died. She had attained to her twenty-fifth or
twenty-sixth year, and she was particularly intimate with the family of
the person from whom this narrative is derived. In fact, it was her only
intimacy, and in her intercourse with them she frequently avowed her
conviction that the "lost one" would return.
One morning a note was received by my father, requesting him to call, as
soon as possible, on the writer, at the Queen's Head Hotel in Bride
Street. He repaired to the place appointed; and in consequence of what
there occurred, he had interviews next morning with Richard Tudor and
James Wilson, and prevailed on them to accompany him to Cork Hill, about
11.30 a.m., and there he pointed out to the astonished and delighted old
men Captain Christian Wilson, of the 60th Regiment, marching his company
to relieve the guard at Dublin Castle.
The tale concludes. The lovers met and were united. Old Tudor was rich;
his closing years were happy. Wilson retired from the army after he had
attained the rank of Major, and settled on a property in a southern
county, where the descendants of him and Mary Tudor are living in
independence and respectability.
This narrative has been closely criticised. It has been asked, Did the
hero of the tale keep his very existence concealed so long, and why?
Suspicions have been expressed that the lovers had some communication or
correspondence. Whatever conjectures may be entertained, they need not
be canvassed here. The reader may form his own opinion. Much was said on
the subject, and something was even sung. The following verses are a
portion of a lyric attributed to a Mr. Rooney, a basket-maker in
Fishamble Street. The Tholsel guard, to the somnolent tendencies of
which an allusion is made, were in number about a dozen. They were
dressed in blue with orange facings, and armed with pole-axes. An
alderman of the time sarcastically described them as "selected for their
age and infirmities, and not required to be awake unless at their
meals."
"Some folk averr'd a bird was heard
To Mary's casement nigh;
And from its throat there thrill'd the note,
He's coming by-and-by.
"Some said there came, with war-worn frame,
A vet'ran grenadier,
Who spoke of one that led him on
Through battle's fierce career.
"Some said between them both had been
Of love notes not a few,
But this was clear, he did appear,
And wed his maiden true.
"Through Skinner Row the toast must go,
And our cheers reach Christ Church Yard,
Till its vaults profound send back the sound,
To waken the Tholsel guard.
"Here's to their health in peace and wealth;
May Death, that bold intruder,
A long while pause ere he lays his claws
On such as MARY TUDOR."
FOOTNOTE:
[2] In the old "Tholsel" or Guildhall of Dublin, members who had served
the office of Sheriff, or who represented the Guild of Merchants,
occupied the centre of the Council chamber. The members representing
incorporated trades sat next the wainscot. They had the reputation of
being the most independent members of the Corporation.