The Eve of All-Hallows; Or, Adelaide of Tyrconnel, v. 2 of 3

The colonel frowned, and seemed displeased.

The honest-hearted Phelim O'Neale, for such he was with all his faults and transgressions to boot, now bade a good night to his imprisoned friends, as he called them; and then whispered aside, that on the ensuing morow he would beg the favour to make his confessions to the Reverend Clerk what time the apartment should be ready for his gallant friend, which was under preparation, and would be ready to receive him early upon the following morning. He then bowed, and wished them all "a very good night's repose."

CHAPTER IV.

"Not I, in sooth, honest Mr. Phelim O'Neale."

"Oh, baring (excepting) honest; that any how for the present we will pass by. But, holy Father, if you knew but all, you have far too many reasons not to forget me! Do you not remember that you stood by me during my last moments, and gave me the holy ritals of the church?"

"What do I hear! Stood by you in your last moments, and gave you the holy rituals of the church! and here you are!! The poor man is deranged—quite crazed. You are beside yourself, Mr. Phelim (without honest) O'Neale!"

"Nay, nay, Riverend Father, I am beside you, or rather forenent you. Do you not remember, your Riverence, that some tin years ago (small blame howsomdever to your Riverence any how, for grate razon you have, in troth, to remember Phelim O'Neale, if you knew but all!)—well, as I said, some tin years ago you attended me at the gaol of Tyrconnel in my last moments; you were present when I was hanged—ay, regularly hanged!!"

"Hanged! hanged!" ejaculated Doctor M'Kenzie; "and yet you are here!—You speak, you address me! How is this? It is madness all!"

"Not so neither, craving your excellent Riverence's pardon; I was tried for high-way robbery at the assizes of Tyrconnel;[18] I then most justly was found guilty, and condamnified by the circuit-going judge, Justice Jocum, to be hanged. And sure enough, by my sowl, hanged I fairly was—no doubt whatever of it! That is to say the hangman did his part, as the judge and jury had before done theirs; and my friends did the rest. Och, they did their part, sure enough—long life to them for the same! At that most memorable 'pocha of my life—or death! as it was by all supposed, thought, and credited, your worthy and excellent Riverence attended me in my last sad and awful moments. Thin you saw me mount the fatal ladder; the hangman gave me a hempen cravat, which, in troth, I but too well desarved! and the ladder having been suddenly taken away, I made a spring, and, as all thought, I jumpt into itirnity. But you remimber, or might remimber, that before I was launched from the fatal tree, I bouldly kicked off my brogues, and died true game. And och, may be I didn't kick them off in stylo! as much as to indiccate to my commeradoes, 'Yeez see, jewels, that I die true game; and moreover, none shall suffer in the dead man's shoes—not one of yeez! This plainly tould them all a true tale, that I had not confissed, or betrayed any of them by a cowardly disacknowledgment."

"Oh, shame, shame!" rejoined Doctor M'Kenzie, "kicking off your brogues upon the scaffold, on the confines of eternity, in the sad and solemn hour of death and suffering for crime! Oh, shame, shame! What blasphemy—what hardness of heart, and perversity of head! Detestable and abominable folly and wickedness. Why, I say, man, if you were upon the stage of a mountebank, performing pantomime tricks, to please and gull the stupid populace, such a proceeding would be indecent, indecorous, and irreligious; how much more so then, when parting from the stage of human life, branded with crime, and condemned by the voice of justice and the offended laws of your country! I cry shame upon such indecency, such horrible levity, upon so solemn and so awful an occasion as the departure of a guilty culprit (and guilty too by his own confession) from life to eternity, to answer in another world, before an offended God, for the crimes committed in this!"

"So may it plaze your Riverence, troth it was no livity at all, at all; but merely a sort of sharp signal or freemason's sign to my comrades that I had died intripid, and true to them, not having betrayed one of the gang, or club, as we called it. And now once more I am alive again, to repint anew of the same, which I most sartinly do."

"Ay, indeed!—Are you sure of that, Mr. Phelim O'Neale? Can I depend upon your living word, when your dying one was false? A proof, a proof; give me a proof, and then I shall give credence to you."

Phelim slowly drawing forth a watch from his fob: "It is here, holy Father! this is my proof. This watch was yours, became mine by the chance of war, or rapine, and now I restore it—it is yours again! Your Riverence will examine it: the maker's name, your chain, your seals—you cannot forget them any how?"

"Yes, yes, I must confess that is, or was my watch; the identity of that I cannot possibly gainsay. And if you can make out that it was you who deprived me of it, and that now again restore it, why assuredly I shall then confess that you are certes the honestest man in your calling that I have ever met with. But, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, I have a question to propose, and upon your answer to it will depend my credence of what now you say. Pray, if (I say if) hanged, how were you restored to life. A watch may be found, and a watch can be wound—may be stolen, and may be restored, but the vital spring of life is not so easily renovated.—Come, to the point."

"Your Riverence must then know, that I was cut down by my friends, and through their means restored to life, after having, to all appearance, fallen a forfeit to the law."

"As how—as how? Mr. Phelim O'Neale! explain."

"By means of hemlock juice infused by well intentioned friends into my throat and lungs. Oh, but too well I remember that, and but too well they succeeded; for after the means they used for sussicitation I recovered; but the pains which I endured were beyond those upon the fatal tree, the punishment I had endured, and the shame I had borne, for my family were indeed respectable. Upon my restoration to life, my friends disguised me in female attire, and hurried me off in a merchant vessel then in the bay, ready to slip her cables, and bound for Virginia. So away I went in the same vessel. Och, may be it was not without a sad and sorrowing heart that I left my mountain shores; for, sweet Ireland, still, with all thy faults, art thou dear to me; and with all my own too, with filial love yet do I adore thee, mavourneen, my early loved, my dear natal isle!"

Phelim O'Neale continued: "Your Riverence knows the rest of my story. A cannon shot of Marshal Rantzau's squadron soon compelled the vessel in which I was bound for Virginia[19] immediately to strike her flag; and the result of the Marshal's attack upon Ostind you are in full possession of already. Here then my story ends, but not my gratitude to you, of which, before we part, I shall endeavour to convince you of with sincerity, marked by more than mere words."

"Why, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, you have really become eloquent, and have astonished me quite by your display of words."

"No, no, Riverend Sir, they only burst forth from the heart with a full tide of over-flowing gratitude to you, and with deep contrition to myself, for all the past!"

"This my friend, my honest friend, (for such I now must call you, Phelim, for the restitution which you have made by words as well as in deeds, and I needs now must prize thee,) yes, this promises good; and sooth to say, I am pleased withal right well. There, take my hand, and along with it my best benison on you, your wife, and children."

Phelim knelt down, kissed his hand, and prayed that heaven might shower down its choicest blessings upon his reverend head.

Three entire days subsequent to this confession soon passed over, and were occupied only at intervals, in order to obviate detection, in sawing per diem a bar. Each bar was cut slanting, or diagonally, so as to be readily re-adjusted as if it had not been severed; and then the entire bar, when replaced, was covered over by means of paper, which was neatly pasted thereon, as if no undermining operations had been sapping the grated barriers of their prison-house.—Meanwhile the Reverend Chaplain was on the alert, scraping his old Cremona, and the colonel's servant thundering forth the bass tones of his clarionet, to serve as masqued batteries to drown the more subtle operations of the saw and file of the son of Mars.

Upon the evening of the third day Phelim O'Neale came into their cell just as the last bar to their enlargement was severed in twain. Suddenly then all filing and fiddling, and piping and papering, at once ceased.

"All is right," exclaimed he, "and all is well. Before two days more shall dawn you must away from this. I shall manage matters thus: I have got disguises for yeez three; you, Riverend Sir, are (in the time of travel) to be a midwife, going on a job to the town of Nieuport, three leagues from this, where I have a friend, to whom I will address a letter in behalf of all. In the furtherance of this my deep design, you shall have a silk gown, cap, rich gilt ear-rings, necklace, with a large cross—all, moreover, right tawdry enough; and a Flemish hood thrown over all, to protect Madam Needful from being sun-burnt. And, sir soldier, there shall be a lackey's dress for you; and, to boot, I have likewise got a horse, which your worship is to bestride, and which is to be mounted withal with saddle and pillion, upon which latter my lady-in-need is to ride.—And as for you, sir lackey, you shall be caparisoned in a blue check frock of true Flanders make and hue; for thou art to be a Flemish peasant riding withal in such brave company. But mind, my youth, I warn thee, that with all meet, becoming respect, thou shalt demean thyself, and ride in the rere of these gallant personages. Three horses and a guide, when we shall fix the day and hour, shall be found waiting at the porte de Nièuport."

Many hearty thanks were returned for the ingenious stratagem of Mr. Phelim O'Neale, which met with the cordial concurrence and approbation of the prisoners.

Here Mr. Phelim O'Neale resumed his speech: "It must appear that yeez all have broken prison at the time that yeez depart, so down with all the bars when yeez go, that it may fully and fidentively appear that it was any how without my will, knowledge, aid, abettance, or assistance, whatsomdever, any thing at all to the contrairy notwithstanding, that yeez fled from prison, in order that I may not suffer pains, punishments, and penalties, from these Bellawagians, who, after all, to do them justice, are fond of the English nation; and I verily and fidentially believe that the craturs would sooner again fight with Spinola Rantzau, or the d—l, nor with John Bull!"

"Yes," rejoined Doctor M'Kenzie, "that I believe to be an undoubted fact, inasmuch that the united states of Flanders ever have wished, if possible, to preserve peace and amity with England, and ever sorely have they rued the day whenever they have been forced into a war against England."

"That is most true," added Colonel Davidson, "for, Reverend Sir, you recollect the favourite saying, or apothegm, of the Emperor Charles V.:—

And while speaking of Charles, who had the magnanimity to relinquish a throne and to retire into the monastery of Saint Jüst, it must not be forgotten the memorable declaration which he then made. While in the monastery he employed his leisure time in works of mechanism, such as clock-work, &c.; he then exclaimed, "Oh, what a fool I have been!—during my whole reign I have endeavoured to make all my subjects think alike in religious matters, and yet I cannot cause two watches to keep time together!"

"Yes, noble colonel, there is my hand for that remark, and with it is accompanied my heart! You are a Protestant and I am a Catholic, yet do I regard you and revere you, although we differ in tenets."

"And there is my hand and heart in return," said the valiant colonel; "and would to God that this could be a lesson to all the bigots of the wide world, who, however, appear, I must needs confess, alas! more zealous to frame sectarian systems, or incontinently to wage doctrinal disputes and controversies, than meekly to disseminate peace and good will upon earth! and inculcate the mild, forbearing doctrines of Christianity, the two principal virtues of which are charity and humility."

The evening of the day which succeeded that of the developement of the projected plan of escaping from prison had arrived, when, as soon as it had become dark, Mr. Phelim O'Neale commenced his operations by bringing in the different dresses in which his captives were to be disguised to facilitate their elopement; this he did gradually and cautiously, bringing sundry articles of attire at different times, so as to escape suspicion. Mr. Phelim recommended that when all were duly clad in their costume of disguise, that their own clothes and changes of linen, &c. should be carefully packed up in two valises, one of which was to be carried by the colonel's servant, and the other to be borne by the guide. "And then," he added, "yeez can throw off your disguises at my friend Malone's house, in the suburbs of Nieuport, and to whom yeez bear a letter from me."

This arrangement was assented to and resolved to be acted upon nemine con.

The trio felt exceedingly grateful to Mr. Phelim O'Neale for all the kindness which they had received, and especially for this last very strong proof of his great generosity. Dr. M'Kenzie especially felt obliged to him, as he was fully sensible that it was on his account expressly that freedom was likewise given to his fellow-sufferers.

"Many, very many thanks, kind-hearted Mr. Phelim, for all the favours which you have bestowed upon us, and most particularly for this last evincing proof. But, in sooth, we must remunerate thee for all the expense which thou hast put thyself to upon our account."

Here Phelim O'Neale whispered the Reverend chaplain: "Holy Father, I tell thee nay; for always remember that once upon a time I robbed your Riverence upon the high-way of tin times the value of which I now poorly endeavour to repay you, so that I must beg to hear no more at least upon this score. I am your debtor still! Silence, firmness, and obedience to my commands, (who am, by the powers placed in me, commandant and generalissimo of these dark towers,) are all the conditions that I now require or impose at your hands, and those of your fellow-sufferers."

"Well, well, Phelim, I suppose it all must be so as you have advised, and I do not gainsay it. But, I must indeed acknowledge that you are, beyond all doubt, hesitation, or even comparison, the most honest man whom I have ever yet met in your calling."

The prisoners now anxiously lay down to take some repose upon their beds, the sheets of which had been purposely broken up, and formed into ropes, to facilitate their descent from the gaol window, and permit their exeunt to liberty."

On the following morning the prisoners were called up at a very early hour by this kind-hearted gaoler, when they found themselves duly invigorated and refreshed by a night's sound repose. And now they hastened to put on the disguises in which they were to pursue their journey, in the adjustment of which no great time was lost. They then proceeded to dismantle the bars of the prison window, while the door and outer door, upon the retirement of the gaoler, were to remain doubly locked.

"Come, pray come, my gentle masters;" said Phelim O'Neale, "is all ready?"

Being answered in the affirmative, he said: "Well then, any how, small blame to me, I must give precedence to the church, then shall the sword support the cross, and the servant attend on his master. Come, Riverend Sir, we must now despatch—so we now proceed to business; thus before you can patter two Credos or an Ave I will have you dangling at the rope's end. Och, then, may be, any how, that wont be turning the tables upon your Riverence!—ha, ha, ha! But sure, any how, nothing can be more true nor one good turn desarves another."

Mr. Phelim O'Neale now proceeded to lower the Reverend Chaplain by means of the rope. Having duly adjusted all, he observed, "I say, your Riverence, I am now paying you off in kind."

"Marry, Phelim, a truce now to your joke-cracking, for which, by my halidam, I have neither will nor leisure at present to mind. So I say, prithee, a truce to the explosion of thy witticisms, which are, methinks, immeasurably ill-timed and chosen; so I pray reserve them for some meeter occasion of merriment."

"Your Riverence, in troth, only speaks in razon; but you know, your Riverence, that Pat can no more forego his joke at all, at all, let bide what may, than can Justice Jokum his pun, which he cracks while the rope is fairly cracking the neck of the victim to the laws."

"Well, well, Mr. Phelim, having cracked your joke, pray spare my neck from the same, and likewise my ribs from carte and tierce, for at this present moment I see before me, with terror in my mind's eye, the retrospect of the Nieuport-gate of Ostend, and all that you have told me thereof. So have pity upon our nerves and necks while pending in air, and depending upon you!"

The Reverend Doctor was now safely landed upon terra firma, and he in a subdued tone gave his hearty thanks and farewell to Mr. Phelim O'Neale, who prayed that the blessings of the poor and distressed might ever be showered upon, and protect the Reverend Chaplain.

Colonel Davidson's turn now came of being manumitted from the prison window, and while adjusting the linen cord to the lower fragment of the window bar—"Oh, Sir Soldier! how much you remind me of a print which I have seen at Tyrconnel Castle of the famous Hungry Kat, [Henri Quatré,] the famous king of France; and, och, long life to you, may you have, like him, an angel Gabriel [meaning Gabriella d'Estrees] for a wife; och, and your worthy honour, may she be as kind, and good, and true, as my own humble Justiné; and moreover, besides, may you have a whole house full of childer!"

Colonel Davidson, laughing, good humouredly protested against this part of the benison, as he smilingly observed, that if a soldier could manage his military baggage, he had enough to do, without being encumbered with live stock.

Our adventurers having all most kindly bade adieu to Mr. Phelim O'Neale, proceeded onwards, attended by their guide; and in about a quarter of an hour, or so, they came up with the attendant, who was in due waiting with the horses. Colonel Davidson most respectfully lifted up the Reverend Chaplain, now appropriately dressed in the assumed disguise, and who looked withal most right, grave, and matron-like, duly seated upon the pillion destined for the journey; and fully equipped as a livery servant the colonel mounted the saddle, and was followed by his attending servant disguised as a Flemish peasant, who most respectfully kept his distance in the rere, while the guide led on the van. And at a gentle and sober trot they proceeded for the Nieuport gate, where having arrived, and being challenged by the sentinel, and the guide giving the countersign, they were allowed to proceed; the draw-bridge was let down, and onward they wended their peaceful way. Mr. Phelim O'Neale, with his usual dexterity, had caused their horses to be shod with the shoes turned the contrary way, with the intent thereby to prevent pursuit; by thus puzzling the pursuers, if such should follow, that thus deceived by the shoe-track, they should be like hounds at fault, and thus in despair give over the pursuit.

Nieuport had been formerly only a hamlet, called Sandeshove, but upon the destruction of the neighbouring port of Lombarsyde, being choked up by the sands, a new port was constructed at Sandeshove, which caused the town to assume the name of Nieuport, (in Latin, Novus-portus, or Neoportum.) Lombarsyde, in consequence, was changed from a town into a village, and Nieuport from a village into a town. It is regularly fortified, distant about two leagues from Furnes,[20] three from Ostend, four from Dunkirk, and seven from Brugès and Ypres. The air of this town is so unhealthy that the garrison do not long remain without being relieved. It is remarkable that Nieuport is the only place throughout Flanders that has never been taken or retaken.—"Urbs intacta manet."

The weather proved somewhat unpropitious to our travellers, as several very heavy showers of rain fell during their route from Ostend to Nieuport, the weather in Flanders being generally moist. Doctor M'Kenzie fortunately recollected, during their progress on the road, that there was a convent of English Carthusians established at Nieuport. This body had been instituted in 1415, at Sheen, in England, by King Henry V.; but in consequence of the persecutions of Queen Elizabeth, they were compelled to depart their country; and having remained some time at Malines and at Brugès, they finally established themselves, anno salutis 1626, at Nieuport. The monastery was situated at the western extremity of the main street of the town, called Rue de Porte l'Orient. Dr. M'Kenzie had heard much praise bestowed upon the present learned and worthy abbot, Father Philip de Comines, he resolved therefore to make his way to the abbey, and consult with him upon the best mode of returning to his native land. Pursuant to this determination the wearied travellers now approached Nieuport, severely drenched by the showers which fell during their journey. The Reverend Gentleman threw off his female attire, and resumed his own, which was done at a house where they halted, and situated in the suburbs of the town, belonging to Malone, the friend of Mr. Phelim O'Neale, (to whom it may be recollected that the latter had addressed a few lines;) at the same time the colonel and his servant having also resumed their proper costume, forthwith attended Doctor M'Kenzie, who proceeded to the abbey,

And not only the Reverend Clerk, but Colonel Davidson and his servant likewise were hospitably received, and kindly entertained by the good-natured monks.

The next day Doctor M'Kenzie was so severely indisposed from the wetting which he received during his journey, that it was found necessary to call in medical aid. A slight fever seized him, which confined him for two weeks to his bed; and when he arose he found himself so weak and debilitated, that the physician strenuously recommended him to try the waters of Pyrmont so soon as he should be sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey. Finding his fellow-voyager and sufferer now somewhat recovered, Colonel Davidson prepared to take his departure, and having affectionately embraced the Rev. Gentleman, and cordially shaken hands with the good abbot and his hospitable brethren, the colonel, accompanied by his servant, proceeded to Dunkirk, where he safely arrived after a few hours travel, and from thence it was his intention to proceed for Holland by way of Rotterdam.

After a few weeks' sojourn at the Carthusian convent, where the Reverend Chaplain received every hospitality, kindness, and attention, that it was in the power of the reverend brotherhood to bestow, with many a kind valete et benedicite he departed, finding himself sufficiently strong to endure the fatigues of a land journey. The doctor set out for Westphalia to benefit his health by using the mineral waters of Pyrmont, and after several days, having travelled by slow stages, he safely reached his destination.

But it is now full time, indeed, that we should return to the Duchess of Tyrconnel, and accompany that amiable lady and her highly gifted daughter, the lovely Adelaide, in their voyage and journey; from whom the occurrences of important political events and the fatal scenes of war, have too long detained us, but of whom an account may be found in the succeeding chapter.

CHAPTER V.

Sad and sorrowful ever is the parting hour when beloved friends separate, perchance never more to meet again! But oh, how sad must that separation prove if not accompanied with the consoling hope—"we yet shall meet again!" The Duke of Tyrconnel was then departing from his beloved wife and darling daughter, yet no enlivening hope allayed the feverish throbbing of his heart, with the bland promise, "we yet shall meet again!" Deep, bitter, and gloomy were the parting pangs and presages when these affectionate friends separated, destined, perchance, never more to meet! Still manfully the duke concealed the wound which rankled in his breast, and with promptitude made ready to follow the fallen fortune of his fallen master. He recommended that the duchess should, without procrastination, depart for England, and retire thence to the continent, until such time as the political tempest which was raging should subside. It was also proposed that the duke and duchess should at the same time depart for their respective destinations, and the determination, upon the same day it was resolved on, was carried into effect. The plan was, that the duchess, Lady Adelaide, Ladies Letitia and Lucy, escorted by Sir Patricius Placebo, should proceed to England, viâ, or rather mari, to Parkgate, thence journey onward to Chester, only twelve miles distant, remain there a few days with their kind friends Doctor Cartwright, bishop of Chester, and his lady; and next set off for the most convenient port to embark for France. Thence make a detour to the Netherlands, and take up their residence in the city of Brussels, where the Duchess d'Aremberg, Adelaide's godmother, resided.

The duke accompanied his family to the packet which was to convey them from their native shores, possibly for ever! The parting scene was exceedingly affecting, the duchess, rallying all her fortitude, was enabled to address the duke ere they fondly embraced and parted, in these empassioned words:—"Go forth, my dear lord!" said the duchess. "Go, my beloved lord, where every filial tie calls your attendance, where glory, your country, and your king, demand your presence. Go, and the god of battles be your guide and guard! But the wife of Tyrconnel breathes no sigh—the wife of Tyrconnel sheds no tear at her loved lord's departure. Had he remained ingloriously at home then there would have been too ample cause for lamentation; the blush of every feeling cheek, and the throb of every manly heart, would have revolted at conduct so base and selfish. But, thank heaven, this is not—it could not be! Go forth then, my dearest lord, and the blessings of a wife and of a mother ever attend thee!"

Adelaide, however, could not command those feelings which were instinctive to her sensitive feelings, she sobbed and wept deep and bitterly; she endeavoured to check the rooted sorrow which was preying on her heart, but the attempt was all in vain, her affection burst forth more strongly from her endeavour to counteract it; and tears of sorrow for her father's departure flowed in deep succession. The duke was highly affected with this parting scene; yet sternly checking himself, he said:—"My dearest Adelaide this must not be; virtue carried to excess—honour carried to excess, lose all their original intrinsic worth. Nay, even religion may be transmuted into persecution; and eternal silence and seclusion from the world be considered as its divine attributes, so that each shall lose all the original stamp of their native worth. I therefore tell you, my dearest daughter, that this must not be; I shall, with the permission of divine providence, so soon as it shall be in my power, rejoin you all in a foreign land upon my return from attending my revered monarch to Saint Germains. And, my beloved, although we shall have lost our rank, and reside as persons quite unknown—perhaps wholly unnoticed; yet, my dearest Adelaide, we shall nevertheless retain that which is much dearer to the human breast, self-esteem, and social love, and social leisure, and these undisturbed by courtly crowds, unchanged by time or circumstance, or loss of power. These social ties too well I know, my dearest child, are dearer to thee than wealth, rank, pomp, and power; and believe me truly we shall feel far happier than ever we felt before. So I pray thee, dearest Adelaide, that we may have no more of sorrow or repining, for all will yet be well!"

The duke affectionately embraced his duchess, Adelaide, and his sisters, and cordially shook hands with Sir Patricius Placebo; when having descended the side of the vessel, his Grace jumpt into the boat which conveyed him to the shore, and entered his carriage which waited for him, to attend upon the fallen fortunes of his fallen master. When intimation was given to Sir Patricius that he was to proceed to England, and take charge of the duchess and family, certes he received the communication not without some portion of surprise, and of pleasure too we must admit: "Jacta est alea, jacta est alea!" he exclaimed: "The dye is thrown, so now 'For England Ho!' ha, ha, ha! As Prince Hamlet says in the play, 'For England Ho!' ehem!—

DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!"

The packet, with all her canvass unfurled, and proudly swelling before a brisk and favouring breeze, promptly set sail onward in her direct course for the seaport of Parkgate,[21] in Cheshire. The day was uncommonly fine, and a warm exhilarating summer sun refulgently shone forth, richly gilding the expanding sails of the vessel, and with its genial enlivening rays cheering the voyagers, who sat beneath an awning upon the deck. By this time Adelaide, pursuant to the monitory parting injunctions of her father, had become tranquil and composed. While receding from the beloved shores of her native land, Adelaide was particularly struck with the romantic headlands and mountains that, south and north, bounded the horizon—the romantic peninsula of Howth, the hoary promontory of Wicklow-head, the conic hills "the Sugar-loaves," so denominated from their peculiar conformation; the long continuous chain of the Dublin and Wicklow mountains which adorned the southern point of the horizon, while anon they melted into distant aërial perspective. Adelaide was at once charmed and delighted with the scene, which called forth from her pen the following effusion:—

TO HOPE.

Little of interest, and still less of variety, the reader can reasonably expect to have narrated in a short sea-voyage from the shores of Erin to those of Albion; but on the contrary, much tameness, much sameness, and much monotony, must necessarily be encountered by the voyager.

However, the breeze blew propitious, the weather smiled a settled and serene summer day; the resplendent azure of the sky was unruffled by a cloud, the sun was warm, and the scene proved genial and exhilarating, as onward the gallant bark ploughed her watery way.

A numerous host of seagulls circled in many a merry gambol around the vessel, then right-joyously plunged into the water, and boomed upon the billow, while they seemed to rejoice in the summer sun, and sport on halcyon tide; while ever and anon the Diver (Colymbus Troile) plunged beneath the glassy surface of the sea; a large flock of Terns, or sea-swallows (sterna hirundo) congregated about the vessel, flying around in quick and circling evolutions; now rising from, now sinking in the deep, in frolic play, then gliding along close to the surface of the sea; sometimes snapping at the insects in their way, or then suddenly checking their course, they were seen to dart down upon their finny prey, which was swallowed in the ascent, without the operation by any means retarding the progress of their flight.

The gallant vessel throughout the entire day had joyously scudded onward in a prosperous course before the favouring breeze, and in no longer space than fifteen hours from her departure from the port of Dublin, had arrived at the mouth of the river Dee. But the tide was at this time at ebb, which of necessity retarded the landing of the passengers, as likewise from other co-operating difficulties, the dangerous sand-banks which blockade this harbour, and above all, the total deficit of deep water, a difficulty not to be surmounted, left no choice whatever to the captain but to cast anchor, and cause the packet to remain at her moorings to await the morning tide, which, consequently, put the patience of the voyagers much to task.

The passengers paced the deck to and fro, while they amused themselves with whatever object caught their eye, ear, or fancy; the operations of the crew, the passing sail, the darkening cloud, the sea-fowl retiring to rest, or the slow and hollow murmurs of the receding wave as it foamed, while it retreated, from the adjoining sands of the winding Dee.

At this time the passengers became highly and deeply interested by seeing, or imagining that they saw, human beings upon one of the distant sand-banks, whom the returning tide inevitably would destroy. The telescope was put in requisition, and this only confirmed their fears; for in the days we mention, no Dollond, no Ramsden, was in existence; of course the lenses were dim and defective, and objects, instead of being duly reflected, were misrepresented to the eye. From the repeated remonstrances and apprehensions of the passengers the jolly-boat was lowered into the water, the boatmen briskly plyed the oar, and soon reached Dee's yellow sands. When lo! those whom they had come to rescue, as they imagined, from a watery grave, suddenly took wing, and flew away![22] Yes, gentle reader, too true it is; for the objects which had attracted the attention and the sympathy of the passengers were no more nor less than a large company of cormorants,[23] who somewhat hungry no doubt, had been busily fishing for their supper, and were at the moment they were disturbed by the approach of the boat, in the very overt act of despatching their meal upon the banks of the Dee, who thus suddenly took flight, croaking in hoarse, hollow, and discordant shrieks, their disappointment at being interrupted from their evening banquet; for these stern, sullen, and circumspect plunderers, are most greedy and insatiate gluttons. The great Milton, in his immortal poem, finishes the sketch of this unrelenting tyrant, by causing Satan to personate the corvorant,[24] while envying the happiness of our first parents, as undelighted he surveyed the beauties of Paradise.

But it is now full time to say that a calm night succeeded the tranquil day of our fair heroine's voyage, that the duchess and all the party enjoyed a most refreshing night's repose. Upon the return of the tide the raising of the anchors and unfurling of the sails awoke the passengers, who accordingly arose, and ascended the deck. The morning was most lovely; it was then between seven and eight o'clock, the tide was full in, and brilliantly shone forth a July sun, whose cheering beams illumined the sea and all the surrounding scenery. The vessel was once more under weigh, they crossed the bar of Chester; and in less than an hour and a half they were at anchor off Parkgate. The long boat was put out, and our heroine for the first time trod upon English ground. An excellent breakfast was prepared for the voyagers at "The Welch Harp," and very soon smoked upon the board. The carriages and horses of the noble personages were landed in the space of about two hours' time, in perfect safety; for at this period seamen were not so experienced in the tackle and machinery necessary for this purpose as they are in our own days.

When breakfast was concluded the noble party sauntered along the sea-shore, and Sir Patricius having proposed to them a walk along the pathway to the very beautifully situated and retired village of Neston, and the proposal having met with universal approbation, was soon carried into effect. And upon return the thanks of the noble party were voted, viva voce, to Sir Patricius, without one dissentient no!

Upon their return the travelling carriages were all duly paraded in harnessed array before the door of the inn, and ready for the road, which however, by the bye, proved to be none of the best. In a short time the distinguished travellers started, but the journey, although in distance not more than ten miles, ended in a long and fatiguing one from the badness of the road, and the delay consequent thereon; the first three or four miles were over deep sands, and the remainder of the way was over a rough and badly paved road, which continued without intermission until they reached the gates of ancient Chester. Sir Patricius stoutly insisted that this road had been paved by the Romans, and reminded him, he observed, strongly of the Via Appia[26] which is noticed by Horace. "Ah!" said he, "in achieving victories, in forming camps, and making of roads and cheese, the Romans were a great people indeed!"

The ladies complained of fatigue, having been much shaken and jolted on their tiresome journey; but Sir Patricius Placebo solemnly averred, that the only effect which he had experienced was, that it had strongly created in him a most immoderate hunger, excited, no doubt, as he supposed it had been, by the heat and action of shaking, jolting, &c.; all which keenly operating upon the gastric juice, withal had acted with such an impetus and energy, to which, in sooth, he was wholly unaccustomed, had, he was free and honest to confess, called forth so very unexpected a craving for food! But Sir Patricius was ever upon the qui vivé, and was sure warily to be provided with a pretext, like proverb-loving Sancho, whenever he wished that a dejeûnè a lá fourchette, or a collation, should be put in requisition.

The noble party were set down at the noted and far-famed "White Lion," where compassionating the fames Canina under which poor Sir Patricius languished, a cold collation was called for, where, amid various meats and pastries, a cold and excellent pigeon-pie attracted his hungry attention, and ere long the contents thereof suddenly disappeared, and then he seemed to be relieved from the evident distress under which he had incontinently laboured. This operation was promptly succeeded by a liberal libation (as a salutary condiment to the pigeon-pie) of some excellent old Hock, the anno domini of which was unknown to honest Boniface of "the White Lion."

The ladies too were induced to take some slight refreshment; when the baronet, who now seemed himself again, proposed a walk to the ladies, which he thought would both please and refresh them; and that which he selected was around the walls of this ancient and singular city. This proposition being readily acceded to, the party set forth upon their intended peregrination.

Sir Patricius seemed to be more inclined to the talking mood than he had been disposed to previous to the collation; and made several very apposite remarks during the progress of their walk, which were particularly addressed to the duchess.

"This truly ancient, venerable city, was called by the Romans, Colonia Deva, or Devana, from its having been the station of the XXth Victorious Legion. It is evident that Deva means

"The ancient hallow'd Dee."

"This city without parallel is of Roman origin, as is fully evinced by the form of the city, which is completely Roman, being constructed in the peculiar figure which the Romans always preserved in their stations or castrametations, wheresoever the nature of the ground would permit. The plan or figure of this city is a peculiar one; in shape it is quadrangular, with four principal gates leading to the four principal streets, which run directly from east to west, and north to south; besides a variety of lesser ones, all crossing each other at right angles, so as to divide the whole into lesser squares. The form likewise of the walls is also Roman, which are the only entire specimen of ancient fortification now in great Britain. The walls, as you may perceive, are in many parts, especially on the north and east sides, guarded by towers placed in such a position as not to be beyond bow-shot of one another, in order that the archers might reach the enemy who attempted to attack the intervals. They also are mostly of a round form, as was recommended by the Roman architects, in order the better to elude the force of catapulta and battering-rams."

Here Sir Patricius (in which we shall not follow him) delivered a very erudite antiquarian lecture upon salient angles, action and reaction, salient towers, propugnaculi, and the whole range of Roman military architecture.

He next observed: "Chester is a city and county of itself; the Dee river half encircles it by a winding curve, flowing from east to west, where, nearly at about twenty miles distance in its course, it empties itself into the Irish channel. Look down, my lady Duchess, from these walls, upon the objects below, and you will then appreciate their great height. Originally they were constructed for defence, but they are now converted into a promenade for the health and recreation of the inhabitants; and indeed I must do them the justice to say, that they keep them in excellent repair. The walls are so narrow in some particular places that only two persons, as you must observe, can walk abreast. The circumference of the walls extends to one mile three-quarters, and a hundred and one yards, ehem! be the same more or less, as the gentlemen of the long robe might express it."

In their progress around the walls, the ladies all were highly pleased by the surrounding scenery, and none more so than the Lady Adelaide:—

"How beautiful are the views from several parts of these venerable walls! How luxuriantly green the pastures that margin these walls, and that beautiful spot, the race-course!"

"Which, my lady," rejoined Sir Patricius, "they now call popularly Roodee, but the orthography is Rood-eye.[27] This beautiful pasture ground belongs to the corporation, and comprises eighty-four acres. Yonder are the mountains of Flintshire and Derbyshire; there the hills of Broxton; while the insulated rock of Beeston, crowned with its romantic castle, forms the background of the picture upon which your Ladyship seems to gaze with such delight; while the landscape is still further enlivened by the devious winding of the Dee, in its majestic circling course to Boughton."

While walking around the walls of Chester, the duchess and her party encountered a handsome young stranger, who was also promenading this frequented walk.—We have already premised the narrowness of the walls, that they in some parts only admitted two persons to walk abreast.—The stranger, to make way, retired to a small recess nigh one of the towers, and courteously bowed as the party passed onward.

His eyes were deeply rivetted upon the Lady Adelaide, while her's seemed as intently fixed upon him. Thrice during their walk, in a similar manner, they encountered the stranger; at the last meeting it so happened that Adelaide (accidentally, no doubt,) dropped her glove just as the stranger met her; he raised it from the ground, and in the most courteous and graceful manner restored it. While in the act of returning the glove to its fair owner, it so happened that his hand touched her's; instantly the blood mounted to her cheek, and she deeply blushed; but sweetly smiling, she politely thanked him, made her obeisance, and passed on.

"Who can this stranger be?" thought Adelaide to herself. "He is surely no ordinary being—none of the common-place creatures of this earth. And oh, his fine manly beautiful countenance that seems born to command!"

Then, with a sigh, "she thought too that he looked likewise as if born to love. Oh, what I would give (just from mere curiosity!) to know his name and rank;—there can be no doubt but that he must be a person of distinction."

After this mental soliloquy she hastened to rejoin the duchess and her aunts. They all now returned to "the White Lion;" and the next day was to be devoted to their visit to the episcopal palace, to pay their respects to the Bishop of Chester and Mrs. Cartwright. The evening proving remarkably fine, Sir Patricius ventured to propose a walk to the ladies, to view the interior of the city, the shops, "the rows," &c. As they passed along, they observed that many of the houses were of wood, and most of them built of brick, and wooden frame-work, alternately painted black and white, in certainly a most coffin-like fashion. The pinnacles and gables, they observed, were adorned with various curious and grotesque carvings. Sir Patricius seemed now very anxious to display all his gothic lore.

"This, my Lady Duchess," he observed, "is in verity a most ancient, venerable city; and perhaps the most striking of the many peculiarities in which it abounds are these remarkable covered galleries, or, as they are ycleped, 'Rows,' which extend the entire length on each side of many of the streets in front of the range of shops, which are covered over head, and you ascend them from the four principal streets by flights of stairs. The effect is as if the front room in every first floor was scooped out, and the upper stories of the premises supported on pillars, while the lower tier of rooms, thus purloined, are occupied as shops. The space thus scooped out forms a covered gallery on each side of the street, with a ballustrade or railing in front, over which various goods are flung for exposure to the public—namely, silks, stuffs, shawls, &c. This ballustrade faces the street; the back parlours of each house thus circumstanced are converted into rows of shops, and are a great convenience to the public, from the facility of passing from street to street, effectually secured from rain or heat, affording a sheltered walk in winter and a shady one in summer to both inhabitants and strangers. The streets had been excavated out of the earth, and are in many places several feet below the surface. The carriages drive far below the levels of the kitchens, on a line with the range of shops.

"There can be no question, my Lady, whatever," added Sir Patricius, looking very knowingly, and taking with much gravity a pinch of snuff from his Carolus snuff-box, "there can be no doubt," said he, "but that these 'rows' are precisely the same as the ancient vestibules, and appear evidently to have been a form of building preserved from the time that this city was possessed by the Romans. These vestibules were built before the doors, midway between the streets and the houses, and were the places where dependants waited for the coming forth of their patrons, and under which they might walk, and pass away the tedious minutes of expectation. Plautus, in the third act of his Mostellaria, describes both their situation and their use,[28] namely, that the vestibule in front of the house answered the purpose of a piazza, or covered gallery. The shops beneath these 'rows' were certainly the cryptæ and apothecæ, the magazines and repositories for the various necessaries of the owners of the houses."

The party had now descended from the rows, and pursued their route under one of the arched gateways ascending from the walls, when who should at this time be seen but the youthful stranger whom they had encountered in their morning walk. He took off his hat and lowly bowed. Adelaide, blushing, returned the salute, being the only one of the party who had caught a glimpse of him—the duchess and her sisters listening in wonderment at the learned lore which Sir Patricius had displayed and poured forth with such wondrous volubility; and he was himself, in sooth, too much occupied by his own eloquence, to see, to hear, to think of ought but old Plautus, the Colonia Devana, and the Roman centurions!

The duchess and her party having returned to "the White Lion," tea was immediately ordered; and as Sir Patricius had most ably done his part at the morning collation as well as at dinner, he thought it only decorous to go supperless to bed, which deficit he was, however, resolved to make up from the supplies of the tea-table. They all shortly retired to rest, the ladies complaining that they had not as yet got the tossing of the vessel from their heads, nor the shaking of the Roman paved way from their shoulders.

"After all," said Sir Patricius, "however, commend me the Romans, whether for their armies, their victories, for making roads, or manufacturing cheese!"

The duchess took this as the signal for departing, aware that if this topic were once begun, it would prove no easy matter to stop Sir Patricius in his eulogium on the Romans.

The next day, at meet season and time, the duchess, attended by her party, drove to the episcopal palace, and found the bishop and his lady at home, expecting their arrival. But it is necessary that the reader should be previously introduced to the bishop and his lady.

The Right Reverend Doctor Cartwright, Lord Bishop of Chester, was in the sixty-first or second year of his age, and having passed by the sunny side of his sexagesimal year, was verging fast to his grand climacteric; he enjoyed a strong and healthy old age. Piety was stamped on his fine expanded brow, and benevolence and good-humour sparkled in his eyes, and played upon his lips; his eyes were hazel, large and intelligent, beaming beneath his deep black eye-brows; his nose was aquiline; his figure tall and graceful. He wore a black camlet riding-coat; his hat was of the episcopal fashion; his peruke was bushy and well powdered; and in his right hand he carried an ivory-headed cane, not from necessity, but from choice.

Mrs. Cartwright was somewhat further advanced in years than her Right Reverend Lord. She had never, even in youth, been accounted handsome; however, the expression of her countenance was pleasing, and accompanied withal by a liveliness and good-humour, approaching somewhat the vis comica, but in no way allied to the satirical. Mrs. Cartwright was a plain, honest, excellent woman, possessed of a good understanding, and considered in those times as being well informed. No heart was ever found more fond of doing a kind, generous, and benevolent act, many of which are on record; but this was none of her seeking, as no one disliked ostentation more than what she did; her desire was to do good without its being promulgated. The bishop and his lady never had any children, but they were too wise and grateful to make themselves miserable upon this account, and lived contented and happy upon those blessings which providence had bounteously bestowed, without vainly and impiously repining for what they never had possessed. Loving and beloved, this couple lived mated and matched, regarded and respected by all ranks and conditions in society. They were never weary of well-doing; daily acts of charity, hospitality, generosity, and kindness, emanated from the kind and excellent feelings congenial to them both; indeed they fully verified the words of the inspired Psalmist: "The voice of joy and health is in the dwellings of the righteous."

Such were the Bishop of Chester and his lady, to whom the duchess and her train now presented themselves, and by whom they were most warmly and affectionately received.

"Welcome! most heartily welcome, my good, excellent, worthy Lady Duchess," exclaimed the bishop, warmly taking her Grace by the hand; at the same moment almost she was cordially embraced by Mrs. Cartwright.

"A kind and warm welcome to you and yours," continued the bishop. Then looking intently at Adelaide, he pressed warmly her hand, saying to the duchess, "Beshrew my heart, but, lady, thy daughter is most passing fair, exceeding fair; nor hath fame in aught out-heralded the Lady Adelaide's beauty!"

The duchess made a low courtesy, and thanked his lordship for his polite gallantry. "But," said the duchess in an under tone, "when, my Lord, you shall know more of my daughter, I trust that you will like her mind better then than now you like her visage." Next, aloud, her Grace said, "My daughter has reason, my lord, to be proud of your praise, for laudari a laudato—your lordship knows the rest."

"No, my Lady Duchess, no! I am no orator, and, I thank God, no politician! I am no great man, albeit I am a peer spiritual, and so forth; therefore my praise on that score can be of but little value indeed!"

"Not so, my Lord, the praise of a good man ever is of value."

The bishop bowed. His Lordship next proposed a walk in his garden; and then they adjourned to Chester walls, which closely adjoin the palace, to promenade until dinner. Adelaide looked to the left and right, but "the unknown knight of Chester walls" was not to be seen. Upon their return to the episcopal palace dinner was ready, and soon smoked upon the hospitable board. It was a sumptuous entertainment. The bishop having helped the ladies, soon discovered that Sir Patricius was in complete possession of the scavoir vivre.

"I warmly recommend you; Sir Placebo—Sir Patricius, I beg your pardon—to have some Severn salmon, or some choice dories, caught in the Llyn; and I do think, above all, that I can speak in positive commendation of some stewed carp, which is truly delicious. I saw them caught yesterday (for I am fond of fishing) in that Piscosus amnis, which we call the Vyrnyn."

"No, my Lord, I thank you, I have just made a grand assault, vi et furca, upon your venison, which is actually the finest I have ever enjoyed. The lean is so ruddy and the fat is so white, that I think, my Lord, I shall just try a modicum more, [the fourth time he was helped!] and some sweet sauce withal!"

Indeed the opinion and "great capabilities," to use his own phrase, of Sir Patricius Placebo, at a well-chosen dinner, were never yet, even by his enemies, considered as apocryphal; and in the culinary calendar this notable day was deserving of a mark of approbation, and should be held in savoury remembrance by every follower of Epicurus. The first and second course removed, cheese was put down, to which Sir Patricius helped himself liberally.

"My Lord, your Cheshire is positively excellent. We are indebted to the victorious Colonia Devana for it. To these same Roman centurions who introduced the art of cheese-making, until then unknown in England, into Cheshire; and for my part, my Lord; to adventure upon a pun, I would call this admirable cheese divina.—Ha, ha, ha! It is every way deserving of the Cretâ notanda of Horace, or the Cretâ notare of Persius: it should truly be marked with white chalk in the calendar!"

"It seems, Sir Patricius, that you are disposed to chalk your cheese with a note of admiration!—eh? Ha, ha, ha. However, I certainly agree with you that the art of cheese-making to be the most valuable memorial which the Romans have left us, and in an especial manner to this country. Indeed so extensively was cheese-making carried on that these cohorts exported large quantities of cheese, not only to the distant colonies, but even to imperial Rome herself!"

"Most true, my Lord; and to such perfection has it been brought, that it is now (me judice) far superior to any imported from classic Italy, or dull, plodding Batavia. Centuries have passed by, and Rome's centurions have mixed their dust with the defunct Cæsars, but Cheshire cheese still holds its high estimation; and long may it do so, while British palates, teeth, and taste remain—Semperque manebit!"

A magnificent dessert, crowned with the oldest and choicest wines, concluded this princely banquet, and each day's entertainment, although varied, was equally as splendid as the feast we have recorded.

The next day being the sabbath day, all the guests accompanied Mrs. Cartwright to the cathedral, (where the bishop was to preach) and sat in that lady's seat in the gallery. As soon as the service was over the party proceeded to inspect this grand and venerable pile.

"The cathedral of Chester was built," as the bishop informed the duchess, "during the reigns of Henry VI., VII., VIII." He observed that there was much to admire in the beautiful west end of the nave. "The window over the door is richly adorned with much tasteful tracery, and architrave of the door enriched with figures and other subjects in sculpture. The choir is considered handsome, and the gothic tabernacle work over the stalls is carved in a light and elegant manner. The arches in the galleries are divided by slender pillars of admirable conformation."

His Lordship then came to the bishop's throne, which he pointed out as standing on a stone base; and he observed that the form was an oblong square, or parallelogram, which was remarkable for its sculpture, each side being richly ornamented with gothic carvings, with arches and pinnacles. Around the upper part of the canopy stands a range of little images, designed to represent the kings and saints of the Mercian kingdom. The party now advanced to the chancel, where there are four stone stalls for the officiating priests, richly ornamented above with carved gothic work. The duchess and Lady Adelaide particularly admired the magnificent piece of tapestry which adorns the altar; it represents Elmias the sorcerer struck blind by Saint Paul. The design is taken from one of the cartoons of Raffaelle, and the execution is truly admirable.

The bishop and his noble guests returned to the palace, where a magnificent dinner was prepared for them, and the bishop entertained Sir Patricius Placebo, so soon as the ladies retired, with "A brief and succinct account," as his lordship termed it, "of the ecclesiastical state of the ancient city of Chester." But as two flasks of old Burgundy disappeared during the narration, we are somewhat apprehensive that it would prove rather heavy on our reader's hands, and therefore we shall in toto decline the discussion.

The duchess and her family having very pleasantly passed a week at the palace, now prepared for their regretted departure, and next sadly to bid an affectionate farewell. Mrs. Cartwright obtained a promise from the duchess of writing to her as soon as her Grace should reach either Amiens or Lille. They proceeded to the town of Tarporly, and thence to Wrexam, where they stopped to change horses and to take some refreshment.

Wrexam is the largest town in North Wales, and its parish the most numerous; it is the principal town of Denbighshire. Struck by the beauty and airy lightness of the lofty tower of Wrexam church, the duchess and Lady Adelaide resolved, while the necessary operations at the inn were going forward, to wend their way to visit this fine gothic pile; and Sir Patricius, "albeit," as he said himself pleasantly enough upon the occasion, "although he was much more addicted, he must needs confess, to the memento vivere than the memento mori" yet, nevertheless, right gallantly esquired the ladies.

"The church of Wrexam is the glory not only of the place, but of North Wales." The inside of the church is very spacious, and consists of a nave, two aisles, and a chancel. Much grotesque carving surmounts the capitals of the various pillars in the nave, and within the arches are placed many armorial bearings of the ancient British and Saxon princes. Many of the monuments which adorn the nave and the aisles are admirably designed, and the sculpture exceedingly fine. The epitaphs are numerous and curious: many a "hic jacet Ap-Howel—Ap-Morgan—Ap-Jhones," may be found in the church and in the church-yard. On the outside of the church is placed a great variety of ludicrous and grotesque sculpture. The steeple is an extremely handsome tower, richly ornamented on three sides with rows of saints placed in rich gothic niches. Among the group is that of Saint Giles, the patron saint of the church, with the hind that so miraculously nourished him in the desert, as monkish legends tell. At every angle of the church tower is a light turret, with a winding stair-case, twenty-four feet high. The entire height of the church tower, which is seen to a considerable distance, is one hundred and twenty-five feet. The church was built in the reign of Henry VIII., and is in the florid style of gothic architecture.

Know, gentle reader, that there occurred a little incident in Wrexam church, which must needs have the additament of being known unto thee. When the noble travellers entered the nave they were much struck by beholding a robin perched upon a brass chandelier, which was suspended from the ceiling in the nave, opposite to the reading-desk. The minister was engaged in reading the Psalms, the clerk the responses; and the robin expanding his wings, and straining his little throat, as if to overpower and surpass their voices conjoined. The congregation consisted of but three elderly ladies. It was of a week day, to which circumstance, in all probability, was to be attributed the paucity of the congregation.

This little occurrence produced the following lines from the pen of Lady Adelaide:—

THE RED-BREAST,

IN WREXAM CHURCH, DENBIGHSHIRE,