The duchess and Lady Adelaide felt with much sensibility the contrariety between the notes of the tuneful Redbreast and the nasal base of the veteran clerk slowly drawling forth the responses. Lady Adelaide compared the one to the other as the silvery tone of the Welch harp, contrasted with the wintry gale that sweeps o'er Snowden.
From Wrexam, where the horses were baited, and our noble travellers refreshed, they onward pursued their journey, passing through Llangollen, and visiting its lovely vale. Highly pleased was every one with the beautiful scenery through which they had passed, the course of the Dee, and the windings of the Severn; while with gratified recollections they thought on the very kind and hospitable reception which they had experienced at Chester palace. They proceeded next by way of Oswestry and Shrewsbury, on their route for Bristol; in the performance of which journey, for the present, we must leave our distinguished travellers.
CHAPTER VI.
LETTER FROM THE DUCHESS OF TYRCONNEL,
ADDRESSED
"TO MY DEAR AND INTRINSICALLY ESTEEMED FRIEND, MRS. CARTWRIGHT, AT THE EPISCOPAL PALACE OF CHESTER."
Dated, Lille, August 12th, 169—
"I now most willingly take up my pen to give you, my dear Madam, some account of our voyage, and also of our journey, in fulfilment of the promise which I made in parting from you and the worthy prelate at Chester palace:—
"Well, we proceeded on our route to Bristol, where, you are aware, it was our intention to have embarked for some safe port in France; at Bristol in due course we arrived, sans accident and sans adventure of any kind. But, lo and behold, we could find no vessel destined for the fair shores of France! What was next to be done? why we set off, au dèsespoir, for Dover. When we arrived at that seaport Sir Patricius made instant inquiries for a packet, and was told that there was then only one on the station, and that too was engaged. As he was retiring from the beach who should he meet, think you? why none other than 'the unknown knight' whom we had so often encountered on the walls of Chester; this, you will freely admit, was rather somewhat extraordinary, if not marvellous, certainly. Well, my dear Mrs. Cartwright, an explanation took place, when this singular 'knight unknown' informed Sir Patricius that he himself had engaged the packet, but that it was exclusively at our service; and in the politest and most obliging manner he relinquished it to us, and was so truly chivalrous as wholly to decline a passage for himself.
"This was indeed nobly kind and generous, and we all felt it as such. At our embarkation the graceful, interesting 'knight unknown' was on the pier of Dover, and you never saw, my dear friend, with what a dignified grace this preùx chevalier handed us all on board, and how graciously he bade us 'adieu.' My dear enthusiastic Adelaide is still further convinced that he must be a prince incognito. He said, as we were about to part, 'I understand that your Grace and family are now departing on your way to Brussels.'
"I nodded assent. 'Shall we, pray, stand any chance,' I inquired, 'of seeing you, Sir, in that ancient city?'
"The stranger hesitated. 'Perhaps,' quoth he, 'my Lady Duchess.'
"Oh, if then you were to have seen the indignant glance that Lady Letitia flung on the courteous stranger, while it would seem involuntarily she echoed, or rather screamed, 'perhaps!' For you must know that to this adverb the Lady Letitia hath, and entertains an entire, instinctive, and unconquerable detestation, to the very extinction, I verily credit, of every other given adverb in English grammar, be it aye, or be it no.
"'But,' continued the gallant stranger, 'I yet may speak in more decided terms. It is my full determination to proceed to Brussels, unless ought unforeseen and unexpected should arise to prevent it. I most respectfully and sincerely wish your Grace and friends every prosperity, a safe and expeditious voyage, and a pleasant journey.'
"Then bowing with all the grace of one who had been familiar with courts, he took off his hat, which he several times waved on high, until the packet got under weigh. I could not but observe that when he took Adelaide by the hand to lead her on board, that my daughter coloured most deeply. Indeed I cannot but apprehend that an impression has been made on her young and feeling heart. But this is entrè nous. Is it not most strange, and does it not look exceedingly like love at first sight? But who can be 'the unknown knight' of Chester walls? I can form no opinion, but I am not certainly inclined to agree with Adelaide that he is a prince incognito.
"But to resume my narrative:—We embarked at Dover on Friday morning, at eight o'clock, on board a neutral vessel bound for Calais; it was a Flemish packet, named De Zee-Schilpad, Captain Bulderende master. The weather when we left Dover was fine, but the breeze soon became squally, attended with heavy rain, and a rough and swelling sea; but in the event our passage proved a good one. Many of the sailors were Flemish, and some were French; and, I must say, the most lubberly and awkward I had ever beheld, pàr examplé, one of them sat down to haul a rope! So that really we felt far more indebted to the wind and waves than to the nautical skill of either French or Flemish sailors. And I must own, and am quite free to confess, that their inferiority to our own gallant tars, in verity, did not displease me.
"Calais, as we approached it, is seen to much advantage, the spire of Notre Dame, and the turrets of the Maison de Ville nobly arising over the waves, have certainly a fine and imposing effect; it is indeed a neat and handsome town; the harbour presents a pleasant and enlivening scene, and is defended by many forts. The citadel is strongly fortified, and the city surrounded with walls, gates, &c. The parish church was built by the English, and has been much admired for its architecture. The fishery here for herrings and mackerel is considerable, and of both kinds we partook with much goût during our short sojourn in that ancient city.
"You know what an incurable enthusiast my Adelaide is. During the entire progress of our voyage, which occupied some five hours, the whole way from Dover to Calais Adelaide sat on deck, and could not be prevailed upon, by any persuasion or entreaty whatever, to descend into our cabin, although the wind, which was fair, blew also fresh, and accompanied with some showers; still stationed on deck sat Adelaide, intently gazing upon the Shakespeare-cliffs,
"So intently did Adelaide gaze, that one would have thought that the spell-bound charm that fascinated her looks to those lofty cliffs, could only be broken and dispelled by the wand of the enchanter. The following quatrain is my Adelaide's:—
"Never once changing her position on deck sat the fair enthusiast, until cliff and sky became commingled in one dark-blue mass, and soon completely lost in aërial distance.
"We viewed the church of Notre Dame at Calais, where there is an ill-executed, clumsy statue of the Virgin and Child in statuary marble; the walls are surrounded with paintings of Scriptural subjects, but the design and the execution are very mediocré. As we walked around the walls of this memorable town, we could not but recollect, with the deepest interest, that this city had for upwards of two hundred years appertained to the crown of Britain;—that here had been manifested the most generous and devoted love of country;—that here our own Edward triumphed over the arms, as the benevolent Emma did over the hearts, of the patriot citizens of Calais.
"Once more I tread the sunny region of merry France, endeared from youthful recollection; once more too I tread the same soil that holds him I love the best!—no, not the BEST!—in this earthly globe, and no longer two seas separate me from him whom I acknowledge by the two most endearing titles of my husband, and my Adelaide's father. Yes, dearest friend, this is consoling, and it is balm to the wearied heart of a poor exile roaming in a far and foreign land!
"But I must continue our route:—From Calais we proceeded by Boulogne-Sur-Mer of which I shall just observe, en passant, that it is a handsome town, it is said of great antiquity, and is very remarkable from the circumstance of its having been selected as the port from which the Romans embarked when they invaded Britain; and here still remain the fragments of a Roman tower built during the reign of Caligula. From Boulogne we proceeded to Amiens, where we remained for a couple of days to repose from the fatigues of our journey, and if it will not fatigue you, you shall have a very brief sketch of that fine city.
"Amiens is a city of great antiquity, it was called Ambianum by the Romans, and is noticed by Cæsar in his Commentaries.—Amiens is the capital of Picardy, and an episcopal See; it is the Samaro-Briva of the ancients. This city is situated on the navigable river Somme, which traverses it in three branches, all which unite below the town, beneath the bridge of St. Michael.
"Amiens is a rich and flourishing city, and abounds with numerous manufactories; it is very pleasantly situated in a fertile and well cultivated country. It is the residence of the governor of Picardy.[29]
"Amiens is encompassed by a wall and other fortifications, the ramparts are planted with trees, which form an agreeable walk; the mall, called l'Autoy, is also much admired as a delightful promenade. The houses are well built, the streets are spacious, and the town is embellished with regular handsome squares and public buildings; namely, the palace of the Bailiwick, where the governor of Picardy resides, the maison de ville, or town-hall, the citadel, the square, or place des fleurs, and the great market square, all which are well deserving the attention of the traveller. There are ten churches in this city, independent of the great cathedral of Notre Dame, which is a truly sumptuous and most magnificent pile, it is built in the florid style of gothic architecture, and is accounted one of the finest cathedrals in France. The nave of the church is greatly and deservedly admired. The building contains numerous aisles, chapels, and altars, all gorgeously decorated with shrines, statues, paintings, and monuments. Many of the statues are of marble, as also the monuments; some others, for instance that of the Bishop of Amiens, (whose name unluckily I have forgotten,) who founded the cathedral, are of bronze. There are some oil paintings in the nave, the subjects taken from Holy Writ, but the execution is very indifferent.
"As we entered this venerable pile the priests and choir were chanting the high mass, while the loud, solemn, pealing of the organ's swell echoed from aisle to altar, wafted the soul beyond the narrow confines of mortality. The grand altar was brilliantly lighted up, the perfumed incense arose in clouds to the fretted ceiling, the congregation seemed sunk in deep and dumb devotion; the service was enchantingly performed, some exquisite voices assisted; and the scene was truly captivating and impressive, much to charm the eye and move the heart.
"We have been at this place (Lille)[30] now for four days, but depart on the morrow for Brussels; and indeed it is with regret that we leave this delightful city, of which I adventure to give you a brief historical detail:
"Lisle, or Lille, is a large and strongly fortified city in the north-east of France, and the capital of French Flanders; it is situated on the navigable river Deule. The origin of this town is ascribed by tradition to Julius Cæsar, who is said to have built a castle on an island in the Deule, whence it derived the name of Insula, Isla, and eventually of Lisle; the Flemish name is Ryssel; the Latin, Insula Flandrorum; it is now called Lille.
"Lille is situated in a dead flat, the soil whereof is rich and fertile, and the people industrious. The Deule, although a small river, yet is navigable, and is divided into several branches, parts of which supply the moats of the citadel, and the fosses of the town; while one branch of this river, called La Basse Deule, intersects the city. The form of Lille is that of an irregular oval; it is a large and handsome town, its appearance is imposing from its extent, its fortifications, its canals, its bridges, its squares, and public buildings. It is assuredly one of the handsomest cities of France; much architectural elegance is displayed not only in private edifices, but particularly in the public buildings, viz. la bourse, or the exchange, crowned with its cupola and minaret, the barracks, the corn market, the theatre, five principal hospitals, besides others. La maison de ville,[31] or town-hall, adjoins the grand place, or square; it formerly had been the palace of the Dukes of Burgundy; it was built in the year 1430 by Duke Philip the Good.
"Lille had been formerly the residence of the Foresters and Counts of Flanders; it was founded by Baudouin, surnamed Le Belle Barbe, Count of Flanders, so early as 1007. His son Baudouin Le Debonaire surrounded the city with walls, and built the magnificent church of Saint Peter, where he was interred; and in the middle of the nave of this cathedral may be seen the tomb of its founder, who was also called by another designation, Baudouin of Lille. Two Chapters of the order of the Golden Fleece were held in this collegiate church of Saint Peter, the first in 1431, the latter in 1436.
"There is in this church a beautiful chapel of our Lady of Treille, which was built by Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, in which is to be seen a beautiful mausoleum of Bronze, where is represented the Count Lewis de Male, Count of Flanders, placed between his wife Margaret and his daughter.
"This city, as, my dear friend, I have before observed to you, is the capital of French Flanders, as it was anciently called Flandria Gallica; and is one of the most populous, rich, and magnificent cities in the entire circle of French Flanders.
"You will here, no doubt, my dear Madam, pause, and naturally enough inquire why I should make this long detour, when my ultimate destination is Brussels;—what necessity should urge me to visit Amiens?—why should I proceed to Lille?—why not start straight forward at once for Brussels? I shall explain to you the cause, my dear friend, as I hate mysteries, and prefer being candid in preference of appearing absurd or inconsistent. There have been for these many years some near and dear female connexions of mine, and likewise of the duke, who long since have forsook the world, and who are abiding in this country, all of whom have taken the veil; two sisters are stationed at Amiens within the convent, or Abbaye de St. Sepulchre; and two other relatives have retired here into the convent des Sœurs Noirès. These ladies are now far advanced in years, and fast approaching that goal that one day we all must ultimately reach. Could I then, my dear Madam, remain in the same country, inhale the same air, and withal placed within a reasonable distance, and it resting wholly in my power and inclination whether I should see them for once, and perhaps for ever! or decline doing so? I could not—I would not decline it! No earthly consideration could warp or cause me to forego this duty! I have seen these venerable saints, for such I believe them to be, and I am gratified that they are happy; at least to me they appeared to be so, as they did to my daughter and sisters. This must be the last time probably that I shall ever see them imprisoned within those sad monastic walls, the world forgetting, and by the world forgot! and the leave which I took of them resembled that sad, solemn, and final farewell, which we receive from the departing voice of those we regard at the close of their earthly pilgrimage!
"You shall hear from me again so soon as I am established at Brussels, where I purpose to remain for a year certainly, and for which city we start on the morrow. Until then, dearest friend, adieu.
(Signed) Katherine Tyrconnel."
"P. S.—Please, my dear, most kindly to present all our united remembrances to your truly worthy lord and prelate. Once more farewell."
The day subsequent to the writing of the foregoing epistle, as has been determined upon, the duchess and Adelaide, the Ladies Letitia and Lucy, escorted by Sir Patricius Placebo, departed from Lille on their route to Brussels. The journey occupied the space of nearly three days; at the expiration of which the illustrious voyageurs safely arrived at the noble, the ancient city of Brussels; the drivers were directed to stop at the hotel Du Flanders, in preference to the hotel d'Angleterré, as it was the wish of the duchess to remain retired from any observance or unnecessary intercourse with her countrymen; and instructed by the political tone and temper of the times, courted privacy, not publicity; and this was now the more necessary, as acts of attainder had been proclaimed by King William against all the adherents and partisans of King James the Second.
CHAPTER VII.
The apartments at the hotel Du Flanders were not only roomy and commodious, but were likewise fitted up with a considerable degree of elegance. However, depressed by fatigue of body, as likewise overpowered by anxiety of mind, the duchess and her fair and lovely daughter retired at an early hour to repose, which example was as immediately followed by the retiring of Ladies Letitia and Lucy, and Sir Patricius Placebo, to their respective dormitories.
The duchess and Lady Adelaide had two beds stationed in the same chamber, which always, during the absence of the duke, was invariably the custom; and in the adjoining bed-chamber reposed the Ladies Letitia and Lucy.
Sir Patricius was not neglectful of his personal comforts upon any occasion, at least that has been recorded, and happy to find himself once more stationary for a determinate time at Brussels, he emphatically ejaculated his favourite sentence—
DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!
and soon was enfolded in the silken fetters of Morpheus.
The duchess usually sat up an hour or two in her chamber previous to her retiring to repose, her time being occupied in reading, writing, or entering memoranda in her common-place book; but her Grace always finished with her devotions. When these were duly performed, slowly advancing to the bedside of her beloved daughter, she already be held her in a profound sleep. "Happy state of youth!" thought the duchess,
"Oh, my darling daughter, may care, anxiety, and sorrow, ever be strangers to thy dwelling! and, oh heaven grant, that thy bosom, and thy peace of mind, may be ever calm and serene as at this present moment they are!"
Having mentally expressed this fervent prayer, the duchess retired to her pillow, mournfully revolving upon the past, and deeply meditating upon the future; much wearied both from mental, as well as bodily fatigue, she fell into a deep slumber. But her sleep was restless and perturbed, she went back to the days of her youth. For as Milton finely expresses,
The duchess again beheld her early friends, once more she partook of their juvenile pastimes. Time advances—her courtship with the duke proceeds—her consent to the marriage given—the wedding takes place—the birth of Adelaide—the duke's increased favour with his sovereign—his several appointments—his promotion—the introduction of the duchess at court—the duke presented with the order of the garter, and appointed viceroy of Ireland—the scenes attendant thereon—Adelaide the admiration of every eye, and the praise of every tongue. All these events, conjured up by deceptive vision, passed in rapid succession, seen through the camera obscura of the past. Now floats before her tortured fancy the obverse of the medal:—The battle of the Boyne is fought and lost—King James is forced to make a precipitate flight—the Duke of Tyrconnel accompanies his deposed sovereign—the duke is outlawed by King William, who passes an act of attainder against him—the duchess is compelled to depart from Ireland—Adelaide accompanies her mother in her voyage. The dream continues:—The duchess much perturbed—at sea they encounter a violent storm—she and Adelaide are about to perish in a watery grave. The duchess moans, and becomes deeply depressed, which awakened Adelaide, who arose, and gently opening the shutter, the rays of a summer sun glanced in at the casement. Then putting on her attire with great caution and silence Adelaide seated herself by her mother's side. The duchess greatly disturbed in her sleep, with a deep moan and restless motion turned around in the bed; in doing so her arm fell next Adelaide; who gently, but affectionately, kissed her mother's hand, and while in the act the duchess awoke.
"Oh! this, at least, is no vision to mock my misery!—I am awake—this is no dream! Oh, my dear, dear Adelaide!—my darling child is it you?"
The duchess sat up in her bed, and warmly embracing Adelaide, while the fond, maternal tear moistened as it fell upon her daughter's cheek, she said:—"May heaven ever bless and protect thee, my dear and duteous daughter, and its gracious mercy be always thine! for thou hast ever been dutiful to thy parents, and obedient to thy Creator!"
The duchess now arose, and as neither her Grace nor Adelaide expended any unnecessary waste of time at their toilette, they were soon at their post at the breakfast table. Sir Patricius rung, and desired the waiter to place a Malines ham and a bottle of Louvain beer on the side-table, both of which he declared were excellent in their kind; some of the ladies tasted the ham, but the Louvain beer remained untasted except by the provident Baronet himself, who smacked his lips, and observed that it was passing good; and then noticed that there were three kinds of it, that which lay upon the table was of the weakest sort; the next was called Caniac, which was to be met with at the tables of the noblesse and the wealthier bourgeois; the strongest kind is called Peterman, which, he observed, was sold at the coffee-houses in the evening; and in such repute is Louvain beer held, he said, that annually one hundred and fifty thousand tuns are brewed for exportation; "but for my poor part," next continued Sir Patricius, (filling out a second glass,) "I have slight objection to quaff it at the fountain head!—"Satius est petere fontes, quam sectari rivulos."—Ha, ha, ha!
Breakfast having terminated, and the practical panegyric of Sir Patricius on Louvain beer and Malines ham being duly exemplified and concluded, the duchess sallied forth in search of a furnished house, which her Grace intended to engage for a term not less than that of a year. Three or four houses were inspected, but they were found not to answer; one was too small to accommodate the family, another was indifferently furnished, a third was objected to from its unpleasantness of situation; a fourth was examined, which was agreeably situated in the Rue Ducale, opposite to the park; this seemed to promise well, Sir Patricius rang the hall bell, and a tall, meagre figure, in a rich flowered silk robe de chambre, and his head enveloped in a red night-cap, opened the door; it was Monsieur Passemier, the proprietor of the house, who grinned and bowed most obsequiously; he was about sixty-five years of age, but seemed in spirits, and also in activity, to enjoy all the vigour of youth. He now proceeded to show the house: the hall, or vestibule, was spacious, and very handsomely ornamented with marble tables, bronze busts on brackets, and a statue of white marble of the god of silence. The garden, which adjoined the hall, was very tastefully laid out; a corridore of trellis work, entwined with parasite plants, led from the hall to the garden, where several walks, arched above, formed pleasant arbours, through and around which the clustering vines had entwined themselves, and now displayed their luxuriant bunches of red and white grapes.
The duchess ascended to the drawing-rooms, which were hung with rich Brussels' tapestry, and hangings of Arras; the subjects represented were woven from designs of Teniërs, Snyders, and Rubens; the different compartments represented village fairs, rural merry-makings, and boar hunts.
The sofas, or settees rather we should say, the rude, gothic predecessors of the present modern sofa, were extremely long and extremely low, and yet withal of an enormous size; they were covered with blue velvet, and fringed with gold lace; the chairs, which corresponded, were on castors, and were of that formidable space and magnitude to have afforded seats to the two redoubtable city giants of Guild-Hall, Messieurs Gog and Magog, who, if hither transported, might have held thereon a seeming tête-á-tête, without any diminution or disparagement of their gravity and greatness.
Monsieur Passemier, (for to the lank gentleman in the red night-cap the said mansion appertained,) ever and anon was restlessly employed in raising or lowering the red cap on his forehead, and with continued and extravagant grin, grimace, and gesticulation, became exceedingly loquacious, his teeth chattering most monkey-like. He dwelt much on the commodiousness of his house, the fine view of the park which it commanded, the fashionableness of the situation, the salubrity of the air, the convenience of his jardin ornè; and rung various changes on the fine furniture of his mansion, so superior, he insisted, to les miserablès meubles garnis of Paris; he once indeed (malheureux!) had, in an evil hour, let lodgings, but he would never do so again—jamais! He once, pardié, had set these apartments (en haut) to Monsieur Le Compte d'Egmont and Madame la Comptesse, et quatres petites diables des enfants; the lower (en bas) apartments were set to le bon Evêque de Brugès. But, une jour, Le Compte et Madam la Comptesse were abroad pour faire visite, when les quatres petites diables des enfants made, mon Dieu! such a grand bouleversement, you never did hear—no persone did ever see de like.
Here Monsieur Passemier acted to the life encore le tres grande bouleversement, flinging down, with great force, fire, fury, and energy, stool, tripod, candelabra, chairs, &c., and scattering around the broken fragments of marble tables. He then, with the agility of a Shamois goat, bounded from stool to chair and settee, indeed he seemed as if recently escaped from Bedlam; he jumped, he stamped, he danced, he laughed, he chattered, racing round the room, jumping on chairs and settees, and violently stamping and kicking thereon, and by practical illustrations demonstrating how les quatres petites diables des enfants d'Egmont had accomplished cet horrible bouleversement! and all dat in defiance of le petite dieu de silence, dans le grande vestibule, who, avec le main droite, to his lip does (tout le gentilhomme) impose silence, and avec le main gauche, does vid beaucoup de politesse point de way en haut! pour vous montez. Le bon Evêque de Brugès left me au dèsespoir! pauvre homme, car, malheureux,
Il ne pouvoit pas,
ni liré,
ni diré,
ni riré,
ni priér,
ni ecriré,
et mon Dieu! quelle horrible, il ne pouvoit pas dormire!
The duchess came in for more of the bouleversement than her Grace had calculated upon; and having concluded her bargain, hastened to depart before the lank landlord in the red night-cap could, by possibility, be seized with another fit of la maladé du bouleversement.
Sir Patricius was extremely diverted with the eccentricities of this original, and declared that the Monsieur was wondrous comical—most amusingly facetious.
The duchess and Lady Adelaide, &c. drove through the squares and principal streets of Brussels, they visited the park l'Alle Verte, &c.; and then drove to Soignies Forest: Adelaide was highly delighted, and with much liveliness and enthusiasm, she said:—"Fair Brussels! renowned in days of ancient chivalry, aye, full many a joust, tilt, and tournament, hast thou witnessed within thine princely walls, when kings and mighty paladines sought valour's prize and beauty's smile, while trumpets brayed the victor's fame, and damsels gave the guerdon to the brave! Nor, Soignies, ever be thy dark forest forgot, here many a chase has re-echoed throughout thy woodland waste, led on by prince and peer, what time the savage boar of the forest, roused from his lair, started forth on the hunter's path, and sunk beneath his valiant spear, while blithely the bugle reckless rung his requiem!"
"My dear daughter, you are the child of romance, and you should have been born in the days of chivalry, for our own days are too tame and common-place for thee withal!"
"I do commend, my lady duchess," said Sir Patricius, "the enthusiasm of the Lady Adelaide; and I must take occasion to observe, that although there is much liveliness, there is likewise much historical truth in the young lady's remarks. Certes Brussels is a fine city; in many respects it may vie with Paris. Look at the park, at the promenades, the palaces, the mansions, churches, fountains, &c.; and I will be bold to say that in healthfulness of its climate, the beauty of its local situation, the spaciousness of its streets, the abundance and cheapness of its provisions, that at this period Brussels is probably second to no city in Europe. It is proverbial for the luxuriance of its fruits and vegetables.—And now, my Lady Duchess, I do remember me that Anne of Cleves, the consort of King Henry VIII. of England, whom he somewhat ungallantly called a Flanders mare"——
"It was indeed," observed the duchess, "not only an uncourtly, but it was an unkinglike phrase!"
"I was about to observe, my Lady Duchess, that Anne of Cleves used frequently to send to the Pays Bas for a sallad! and I dare be sworn, my lady, that if her Majesty had only known what a luxurious fruit Flemish cherries and strawberries were, which latter they call here fraisès l'Anglaises, and in size are as large as the largest walnut, and their exquisite flavour quite unparalleled—no doubt, I think, but that the queen would have despatched a special messenger to procure a dessert of those delicious fruits of Flanders, provided they would have borne the carriage. Ay, though even her royal head were to pay the forfeit I' faith!—ha, ha, ha!"
"To lose one's head were rather an unseemly joke for a bunch of Flemish fruit; besides, methinks it were rather too dear a purchase even in the decapitating days of bluff Harry Tudor!" observed Lady Adelaide.
"Commend me the spirit," said her Grace, "of the Duchess of Milan, who, when Henry had sent an ambassador demanding her hand in marriage, she boldly desired the ambassador to tell his master that she must decline the honour which his Majesty had so graciously intended, as she had but one head: if she had had two indeed, one of them should certainly be at the disposal of his Majesty of England!"
"Ha, ha, ha,—'fore Jupiter," exclaimed Sir Patricius, "her Highness was as witty as she was spirited!—Ha, ha, ha."
The duchess now deemed it full time for her Grace to send a despatch to the palace of d'Aremberg, addressed to her old friend,—her once youthful, lovely friend—the kind associate of her early years, the Duchess d'Aremberg, notifying her arrival at Brussels, and likewise, meanwhile, expressing the cogent reasons which had rendered such a step necessary, if not imperative; at the same time also intimating her intention of calling upon the following day at an early hour specified, to pay her demonstrations of love, regard, and respect.
Accordingly, upon the following day, and at the appointed time, the duchess, accompanied solely by Lady Adelaide, waited upon her Grace d'Aremberg at the ducal palace.
Our readers no doubt possibly may recollect the relationship in which the Duchess d'Aremberg stood to the Lady Adelaide, that her Grace was Lady Adelaide's marrainé, or godmother. They too may perchance recollect the princely baptismal presents given on the august occasion, and long since narrated in our story, all of which have been duly detailed in the second chapter of the first volume of this romance.
The meeting was of the tenderest and most affecting description. The Duchess d'Aremberg had been for some years a widow, but she was not childless, she had an only son, the present Duke d'Aremberg. Her sight was much impaired, being obliged to wear spectacles; but notwithstanding this, her countenance still bore striking traits that she had once been beautiful. Her constitution had been so much impaired by ill-health, caused by paralysis, and not by years, that her Grace had nearly lost the powers of locomotion: she moved on crutches. But still her brilliant eye beamed forth intelligence; and still warm and true to all its fires, her generous and expanded heart was alive to every social tie, to every noble impulse, and every endearing feeling. While, meantime, every object around bore strong indications of mortality; in one station was placed her once favourite paroquet, that had gaily talked in its cage, and had each successive morning duly greeted its mistress's approach.—There now it stood a stiff and motionless mummy, a mere mockery of what it once had been! The cherished and favourite lapdog too had undergone a similar transformation, and starchly stuffed, and studded with its glaring eye-balls, unspeculatingly stared from its glassy cabinet.
The Duchess of Tyrconnel warmly embraced with tender and intense affection her old, her once young, her still kind-hearted friend, while their tears, united, trickled down in comminglement on the cheeks of each beloved friend; while Adelaide, whose heart was ever responsive to every impulse of affection or affliction, wept a flood of tears. This transport of joy and tears having passed the Duchess d'Aremberg strongly pressed, with the kindest and most affectionate solicitation, that her early friend and her goddaughter should, during their sojourn at Brussels, make the palace d'Aremberg their home, where they would be as free from restraint as if the residence were their own. But the Duchess of Tyrconnel declined in terms of the deepest gratitude, at the same time in the tone of firm determination. Her Grace said that they should be often together, and that every day, if possible, during her stay, accompanied by Adelaide, they would have the pleasure of passing a large portion of their time with the Duchess d'Aremberg.
Upon being made acquainted that the duchess had taken a house in the Rue Ducale, and that the Ladies Letitia and Lucy, and Sir Patricius Placebo, had accompanied her in her journey, matters were so far compromised by an invitation being made and accepted of, that on that same day the entire party should dine within the hospitable walls of the palace d'Aremberg.
While the two old friends were in deep converse the young Duke d'Aremberg entered the apartment, and was formally introduced by his amiable mother to the Duchess of Tyrconnel and to Lady Adelaide.
The Duke d'Aremberg was a few years elder than our heroine. He was remarkably handsome, tall in person, and martial in appearance, well made, and much admired for the symmetry of his form. His deportment was dignified and graceful, as free from hauteur as it was devoid of conceit and affectation. His eye-brows were dark, his eyes hazel, which sparkled with intelligence. His complexion was, however, rather saturnine; and in person as well as in visage, he much resembled the portrait of his illustrious grandfather, which hung in the d'Aremberg palace, as drawn by the inimitable hand of Vandyke, of which a fine engraving by Earlom has been handed down to posterity. The same characteristic melancholy too which had predominated in the expression of countenance in his grandsire prevailed likewise in the lineaments of the grandson; but withal mildness and intelligence of expression gave an intense tone of interest to the manly and open expression of his visage, which was in sooth the index of his truly noble heart. He was generous, he was brave, and accomplished as he was learned: hence it is unnecessary to say that he was most agreeable and affable in his manners. He was truly beloved by all his dependants, as he was courted by his associates, and respected and adored by his friends.
The duchess and Lady Adelaide remained about two hours at the palace d'Aremberg, and then returned to their house in the Rue Ducale to attire for dinner. At a few moments before three o'clock punctually they returned to the palace. Two, or even so early as one o'clock, was then the usual hour of dinner upon the continent; but in compliment to her friends it was postponed until the third hour. The Earl of Aylesbury and his countess, who was his second wife, and his son, Lord Eyrecourt, were the only guests invited, and they had first arrived.
We must here trespass a few words on our reader, briefly to say what he may perchance not be already acquainted with. The noble peer here noticed was Thomas, the second Earl of Aylesbury. He had rallied around King James upon the event of the Prince of Orange having embarked troops for England. But when King James withdrew himself from Whitehall, in order to embark for France, Lord Aylesbury was one of the twenty-five peers who signed the declaration applying to the Prince of Orange to rescue the country from "popery and slavery." He subsequently, however, took a different part, having been implicated or accused in an attempt to restore the abdicated monarch to his throne and realm, in consequence of which accusation his Lordship was committed a prisoner to the tower of London by order of Queen Mary, the consort of William III., at the time that William was in Ireland. The charge or accusation was for having consulted and conspired how to restore King James. His countess, the Lady Elizabeth, was so afflicted at her lord's confinement, that she died in childbirth, when the month following her husband, the Earl, was admitted to bail.
His Lordship afterwards obtained leave of King William to reside at Brussels; and a year or two previous to this period he secondly married Charlotte, Countess of Sannü, of the ancient and noble house of Argenteau, in the Duchy of Brabant, by whom he had a daughter, Charlotte Maria,[32] an infant at this time of about twelve months old.
The Earl of Aylesbury[33] was a nobleman de La Vieille cour of the most polished manners. Every thing he said or did was done with a peculiar grace and ease. He had read much, and remembered with judicious advantage what he had read. He abounded in amusing anecdotes, had seen much of the world, and had read men as well as books.
However, it cannot be denied that he was at times stately in his deportment; and he never appeared at his own dinner-table, even when none were present but his own family, unless in a full court-dress costume, with the appendices of star and ribbon, which made many to suspect that a deep affection for aristocracy was rooted in his breast.
The countess was low in stature as she was in mind. Her figure, however, though small, was passing well; her complexion sallow; her eyes dark and lively. She possessed more envy than good-nature, more passion than sense, and more pertness than pride. Her chief, and probably only recommendations, were the ancient nobility of her family and the largeness of her fortune, two qualifications that rarely, if ever, bestow happiness upon the marriage state.
Lord Eyrecourt was the only surviving offspring of the deceased countess, and heir apparent to the earldom of Aylesbury. He was confessedly a finished petite maitrè—the daily slave of his barber, perfumer, tailor, and looking-glass. To Monsieur Jasmin, his perfumer, in the Rue Madelaine, he had lately paid the enormous sum of six hundred ducats, being his bill for the last year for lotions, perfumes, cosmetics, &c.
His Lordship never appeared abroad until close upon the hour of dinner, "for," he averred, "it would be vastly supersingular, and besides extremely vulgar in him, to be seen abroad before the sun had fully mounted the meridian, and the world had become well warmed!"
Lord Eyrecourt was, in verity, a strange and singular model of a man, and, to use his own favourite expression—"Odds my life, my person and accomplishments are supersingular, and not to be matched!" His Lordship was in height about five feet five, with brawny shoulders and arms, a bronzed visage, that seemed resolved to outstare the world in confidence; his cheeks were meantime of that roseate hue that the scandalous chronicle of the times reported that they fully owed their blooming radiance to the cosmetics of Monsieur Jasmin. His neck was short, and bull-modelled; and this self-supposed Adonis finished his form by thighs and legs of elephantine shape and form. In London he had obtained the soubriquét, or nick-name, of "The Pocket Hercules," which title followed him to Brussels. "Voilá, mi Lor Herculé, de la poche!—bah! ha, ha!" has been often repeated within his Lordship's hearing.
When this great man in his own eyes, did condescend to speak, he lisped most miraculously; and his whole mien and manner were in complete variance with nature and simplicity.
It was marvellous strange, but true, that this misshapen model of mortality in his own eyes really fancied himself the handsomest man of the day, whether in England, France, or Belgium, the true and most redoubtable Antinous of the age! and he fondly fancied that every dame who set eye upon his irresistible charms, immediately became irretrievably enamoured! so prepossessing and fascinating did he behold himself reflected in the mirror of egotism and vanity. His lordship was peculiarly fond of repeating this, his much favourite passage, from Massinger: