Lord Clancarty.

Otago Witness, Issue 802, 13 April 1867, Page 13

Lord Clancarty.

- A Tale fbom ENGtisit HistoßT.

Thbbb were great rejoicings st the castle of Lord Sunderland one day in the year of grace 1684— rejoicings which were evident through all the neighboring country. In the great quadrangle of the castle, usually so gloom}', there was a merry group assembled — rich and poor, old and young, enjoying his lordship's good cheer and hospitality. Here were the peasantry, standing in family groups, the men pledging each other in the good strong ale, and the women examining and comparing the pieces of cloth which had just been dealt out. A marriage was the occasion of all this ongoing — a marriage between the Lady Elizabeth Spencer and the young 3Lord Clancarty. They were a couple upon whom all prosperity seemed to shine; both rich and powerful ; the bride, the daughter of the Secretary of State, the •bridegroom, proprietor of preat landed estates in Ireland ; both blessed -with mighty friends and allies', and yet, notwithstanding all that, a marriage that was doomed to be unfortunate. The bells of the castle sounded, the trumpets blew, and the festive party of noblemen and ladies came-out on the balcony overlooking the quadrangle, and the good people below looked impatient to see the happy couple. In the midst of the high-born group stood a boy and little girl — mere children both of them ; they stood hand-in-hand— a pretty sight — and bowed in return to the shouts which shook the old castle walls.

These were the bride and bridegroom, Lord and Lady Clancarty. No choice with regard to this most important step had ever been sought from them. For political reasons and those only, bad Lord Sunderland detei mined to have Lord Ciancarty for his son-in-law, the mairiage deeds had been drawn out. the marriage portion settled, and these children bound together until death did them separate.

Could the blessing of Heaven fall on such a marriage as this ? Could happiness be expected to follow a course so unnaturally entered upon ? What were the feelings of the bride and bridegroom we cannot say ; no doubt the former wondered what all this ceremony meant, and why the people shouted, and the latter rejoiced in a holiday from his tutor and tasks. But the others present seemed happy, and again and again rose the cry of "Long life and prosperity" to the youthful couple; while the bonfires lighted on the neighboring hills indicated far and wide that the marriage was over. Then, when the day finished, the guests took their departure, the peasants to their little cots, the nobles to their ca^tlee, and the young husband bade his wife adieu, and hurried off to Ireland to meet her or not in after life, just as he pleased.

******

Fourteen years rolled on, and saw greater changes tbau even that number usually do witness. The marriage had been celebrated in the days of the S-uarte, but the Stuarts ■were now gone, and William reigned in their stead; men's opinions had greatly altered, so that one coming from abroad would have found friends, foes, and those ■who had once sought his acquaintauce look upon him with distrust. England had assumed quite a new appearance with the new dynasty, Some of those in power in 1684 might now be found in England lying ■quietly in the most secluded nooks and corners with prices on their heads.

Lord Cbncarty, now a young man, had never during all these ye rs beheld bis ■wife. To him it had been an active time in camps and battle-fields, in state councils iand intrigues had he spent many a day. Bred a Protestant, he found it mopt convenient to turn a Catholic, by this means gaining the favor of James the Second, who ■was at that time reigning. When that king fled from England and began his unfortunate campaign in Ireland, Lord Clancarty attended him, and rendered his name odious by some of the deeds of rapine which it is said he committed. In James' Parliament he had a seat, while in his army he commaned a regiment ; but he was not not able, after the disastrous conclusson of the Irish war, to escape to the continent with his master ; having surrendered himself to Marlborough, at Cork, he was sent to England and imprisoned ia the Tower. Here he spent three long years : doubly dull and sad they would be to him after the busy career of a soldier, and here he ■would in all probability have ended his days had he not managed to avoid the vigilance of his keeper and escape, Fortune again seemed to smile on him — he got to St. Germains, was received, as all Catholics were, with royal favor, and again put at the head of a regiment. In the meantime, Lady Clancarty enjoyed a peaceful, quiet life at the halls of her father. Lord Sunderland, as is well known, was not a man to suffer by change of Government. He had been Secretary of State to Charles, but he now held office under William. Had Clancarty been contented

[ to have lived Jiflke a wise man* in IrelaWd, I instead, of following the fbttnaea of a tot' tering house, he Vtfoald have found in Sunderland a loving father in 'law ; but as it was, seeing that Government allowed Lady Clancarty an income from her husband's estates, that nobleman* ttaS very well pleased to know that the Channel separated them. And so, 'year after year, these twoyoting people lived, remembering, as something getting fainter and fainter, that day long ago when they stood hand in hand in the balcony, and heard the tenantry shout.

One summer evening, the Lady Clancarty sat in her retiring room, her maid, an elderly woman, beside her, dressing her long and lovely ringlets, which hung in, beautiful confusion over her shoulders. Tbe lady was sad, every now and then p. sigh escaped her. Her attendant noticed this, and made some cheerful remark.

" Jeanette," said her mistress, raising her head and throwing back her hair, lt do you remember my husband ?" v Hush, my lady ! Well you know that if his lordship, your worshipful father, heard us mentioa his name, it would heavily displease him."

" Nonsense !" replied the lady. " Answer my question, Jeanette."

" Well, I do remember him — a lovely boy he was. Ah ! I mind the day an' it were yesterday, when youand he stood on the balcony, and all were so proud to see you. I saw you botla well ; for John M"Hinty, as was my Lord Clancarty's own man, him as was killed in that battle on the Irish river — you remember John ?"

The lady smiled sadly, and shook her head.

" Well, he made me stand just at the top of the balcony stairs, where I could see beautiful."

" And who had a better right than you, Jeanette, to get a good position that day ? You were my nurse and second mother."

•' You praise me too much, my lady. I did but my duty ; I never could serve such as you enough."

" I wonder," she resumed, after a pause, "if ever I shall see -my husband again. 1 often dream of him, and he appears so handsome. You say he was handsome ?"

"That he was, my lady; and he will have crown manly now." "Jeanette, I wonld give up all I have l ! risk my father's displeasure, to be with him again. I would follow him, share all his daubers and trials, bide with him, be with him in the lowest dungeon. Oh! would that we could meet !" and she raised her hands to her face, and the hot tears trickled through between -her finders. A low knock at the door interrupted them. Jeanette opened it. One of the waiting- maids was there to tell Lady Clancarty that a gentleman wished to speak with her, and waited below.

" Can it be Lord Clancarty ?" whispered the lady to Jeanette.

That individual smiled at the very idea. Lord Clancarty vjas too safe where be was ever to attempt England. '• A^k him what he wants," said she, for her mistress seemed lost in thought. The servant returned. He came, he said, from Windsor, were Lady Suuderland was. Sbe had turned very ill, and he must see her daughter.

"My mother!" cried the young lady. " Oh, send him up immediately." She hastily threw a robe around ber.

The door opened, and a tall dark man, with long cloak and slouched beaver, entered the room. He was well armed, a sword by his side, and pistols in his belt. Lady C'ancarty looked up, and failed to recognise him, but Jeanejte uttered an exclamation ofurprises. "You come from Windsor, do you not ?"

" My lady, I do."

" Well, whatever you have got to say about my mother, say it quick. You keep me in suspense."

"I shall do so; but we must be in private." "In private! This is my confidential maid."

"I cannot help that. Surely, for a moment or two, you can talk to me in private." The emphasis on the word ' me' the lady did not observe; but, anxious to hear of her parent, she desired Jeanette to leave the room, though to be within call. The stranger seated himself, and in a low and gentle voice said. " My Elizabeth, do you, too, disown me ?" She started, stared for a moment, and then, in a sudden impulse of feeling, flung herself into his arras.

" Oh, Donough, ia this you ? Have my hopes at last been fulfilled ? Do I indeed see my husband ?"

" You do indeed see one who felt assured that yon ceremony, performed long ago, would ever be binding with you." "But tell me now, Donough, how have you come ? Say, are not you at liberty to stay in England now, and live with me ?" " Would that I could with truth say it ; but alas ! no. lam still the hunted man. Your father and friends will give me no assistance ; but what care I for all that, .when you are still faithful to me 1"

w And yoa have' come to see me in dan'g<sf of your life?" „ „* "In great danger, dearest; but let's not speak of that — I am always in danger." " Have you fo«n happy abroad ?M? M " I cannot say I have. Exiles are not always the most pfeasant company ; and there are many ciretrowtancea which do not make St. Germaias pleasant to me ; but it was you— an anxiety to> see you, and find out whether you remembered the boyhusband married to yon so long ago — that induced me to run all rfs&s, and come e^en to my Lord of Sunderland'a house. Have you often thought of me?" " It were but a moment agcthat I talked of thee to my maid, Jeanette, and asked the aid of ber memory in picturing to myself my husband."

"You will have pictured, then, some ppotless character, some perfect face and figure. You find, now, your mistake." "No," no!— indeed I did not. You are handsome, and I am sure as good as handsome "

"Be not mistaken. lam the cruel Clancarty, whose head the Irish Whigs would have seen, with the greatest pleasure, upon their highest gate ; and whose evil deeds prevent him living anywhere in safety."

" Evil deeds !— -your attachment only to your king."

" Well, if you think so, it is enough ; the cruel Clancarty will never be such' 'to you." I<% And thus talked the husband and wife, met afrer so loa» aa absence — met when,— they could appreciate each other; the slender boy and girl changed into the handsome man and w«man ; their hearts full ef true affection— an affection which romantic feeling had nourished when they were separated by many a mile. It was a beautiful sight ; that sunburnt, careworn husband, bearing on his brow the honorable scara of war, in his drees, and armed as he was, a very hero for romance ; and that fair young creature by his side, bejmtiful and happy — blessed with the supremely blessed feeling of being beloved — anxious, indeed, for her husband's future, yet in the happiness of that hour almost entiacly forgetting the future. Jeanette, the maid, had suspected from the very first that the messenger from Windsor and Lord Clancarty were one and the same, and doubted whether, after all, Lady Sunderland was out of her usual health. The long interview which took place between her mistress and the gentleman confirmed her suspicions, putting aside the evidence obtained by applying her ear to the keyhole. She had beeo told to be within call, and therefore stationed herself in a little room on the same staircase, and amused herself with conjectures as to how Lord Clancarty had come, where he was going to stay, and whether or not his life was in danger. She had sat there a long time, and was getting very wearied of her position, when a heavy tramp on the stairs attracted her attention. Somp one was coming vp — a mau with spurs and a sword. The noise grew louder, and Lord rfpencer, Lidy Clancarty's brother, appeared on the staircase. He was just about to knock at his sister's door, when Jeanette sprang forward. "Hush! my lord, hush! don't do that." Jeanette was an old servant, and priviledged, so Lord Spencer drew back his hand, and asked her what she meant. " My lady is engaged." "Engaged! What of that? Some mercer's man with new good?, or a foreigner with monkeys and parrots for sale. I'll in and see them." "Do not, my lord ; please, do not." " Why ? What in earth do ye mean ?' " Your sister is engaged with a gentleman."

" A gentleman ! — no jok'ng with me, Jeanette," said he, sternly, for Lord Spencer was a man of importance, and felt himself to be such.

" But, indeed, it is true — come in here."

She dragged i is lordship into the little room, and tried to quiet his suspicions with the Windsor story.

" But," said he, when she had finished, "if this fellow brings news of my mother, I must myself see him. He should have come to me first instead of alarming Lady Clan 1 mean my sister. I shall see him."

So saying, he went towards the door. But Jeaaette again pulled him back. " Oh ! don't go, my lord — you must not — indeed you must not."

" What, I again repeat, do you mean ? There is something wrong, and I insist upon knowing what it is.'.' Jeanette remained silent.

"Do you hear me ?" He almost drew his sword. " Tell me who is this gentleman ?"

Jeanette's fear overcame her, she flung herself at hia feet, entreated his patience, and promised to tell him all.

" My lord, say that you will not harm him."

" Harm — who ? Of whom do you speak ?" " The gentleman. Lord Clan " " Ha ! What sayest thou ? Woman, is my wretched brother-in-law here ?" "Oh 1 my Lord be not so angry. Could I help it ? "

lam not thinking of you ; bat that my sister should see, should speak to this man —oh, horrible f " It wa3 indfeecf most horrible that the poor outcast— wiitf had been hunted, imprisoned, driven front land to land— should actually venture into his wife's presence, and be kindly received by her. Lord Spencer was a keen Whig, one of those who fancied he could sacrifice all be most prized for the good cf the State, and longed to distinguish himself in the cause of liberty by being the means of destroying any of its enemies.

You may easily imagine his feelings then n hearing that this odious Jacobite was in his father's house and received by hi 3 eister. There was a conflict in his mind, for even he disliked with his own hand injuring his brother-in-law, and yet this opportunity of seizing the traitor was too good to let slip. He struck his foot heavily on the ground, turned on his beel, and, to the joyi of Jeanette, went dowa stairs.

Here, in the dining-hall, he remained a long time, marching up and down the room with hia arms folded and head bent, discussing the question in his own mind» of what he should do. "Here am I," muttered he, " for selfish reasons, to please a . wretched fancy of my foolish sister, letting aa enemy of State escape. Is this right? Ami justified in so doing? Ah! that I hvi the spirit of a Brutus, who could see unmoved his sons led from his presence to execution, sacrificing his natural affections to the cause of justice and liberty. And this is only my brother-in-law, a miscreaut, who has broken all the laws ot God and mau ; a monster, who in Ireland was accused of most horrid crimes. No ! I cannot let him escape. Still, it doe 3 seem cruel myself to go and seize him ; others must do it. I must go and seek out Yernon " Having cocne to this resolution, and taken a little longer to consider it, he stuck on his hat, and set out for the Secretary of State's. As he passed along the crowded streets, did no image of his sister's distress, or of the haunted man brought to bay, make him turn back? Did no remembrance of that attribute, which our great poet has called "twice blessed," soften his heart ? It is sad when men, in their anxiety to further their improvement as members of a state, forget their own duties" as individuals. In the meantime, Lord Clancarty and his wife sat together, happy and forgetting danger. " How do you mean to hide here ? " she inquired, when they had time to think of their future course.

" I had hoped my dear Elizabeth, that your father's enmity to me wouid now have ceased, and that I should obtain his intercession with the King. You know that the treaty of Ryswick has at present put an end to all projects for the restoration of the Stuarts, and I am quite willing to live peacefully in Ireland, tilling my lands, and happy in your society. But your father is still opposed to me, aud truly I have no friends save Jacobites, themselves suspected, and unable t" help. Ifc was ipdeed rash to come here, but the temptatation was too strong." "Could we not together fly from this country?"

" If I had but time to concert some plan of flight, we might. I shall manage to stay in London somewhere ; but how can I see you ? "

"I must take Jeanette into my confidence, if indeed she has not already guessed who you are." " But will she be faithful ? "

"Yes— l trust her — we must trust her."

But a sound at the door made Clancarty jump up ; he bad good reason to be suspicious. The door opened. It was not Jeanette, as Lady Clancarty thought it would be ; but armed men, whose uniform bore the royal insignia. The nobleman, at the first glance drew his pistol, and stood with it presented, ready to shoot whoever should advance. But his wife, anxioua only for his safety, fell at his feet and entreated him to surrender, as it was madness to resist; he tried to raise her, and gently pu«hed her aside ; the soldiers took this opportunity of rushing forward and closing with him. Fe was at once disarmed and bound. In vain he demanded their warrant, the commanding officer referring everything to the Secretary of State, and would answer no questions. The grief of Lad/ Clancarty we cannot with any justice describe. To behold the husband who had just been restored, thus hurried off to captivity, if not to death, was terrible indeed. She wept piteously, clung to his arms, and had at last to be carried away in a fainting fit.

Lord Clancarty, surrounded with a strong guard, was led to the Tower, whither so many a brave and gallant man had gone before, and where he himself had spent three miserable years. When the great solemn walls of that building appeared before .him, and the lights held by the guards (lor it was now dark) gave him glimpses of the thick - stones, the grated arches, and nail-studded doors, a sensation of horror for the moment seizad him, and, he could not refrain from shuddering. But his natural boldness returned, and he

lieard the^great^ate. shut, and,foundhim4Klf *isganr an inmate, of a cell, with perfect unconcern 1 .

The only thought that troubled him was the consideration of what would happen to Ms' wife. She, he feared, would suffer her iather's vengeance for having shown sympathy to him. She will not be allowed cvea to comfort my last hours, thought he, as he lay in his cell that night. Next morning all London had heard of the romantic capture of the Irish nobleman. Sunderland boldly declared his approval of his son's conduct, but Spencer could not feel happy, and even his friends despised him.

Poor Lady Clancarty was supremely miserable. Quietly, leaving her father's bouse, too wretched to remain in it, she wandered to the Tower, and there, at one of the gates, she stood, weeping and imploring to be admitted. Might she not see her husband, if only for an hour ? — she ■would promise to return when commanded. mhe keepers, accustomed as they were to such scenes, were touched, but they could do nothing without an order. T Bat the story of her devotion and love to this husband whom she had so seldom seen induced many a great man to look with compassion on Clancarty's case, and petitions were sent to the King. She lived in tope, a hope which grew fainter as each day passed, and no word of pardon came. But a friend in her time of need was raised up for her — a friend, whose politics and Tvhose circumstances naturally led her to look upon Lord Clancarty with dislike — that friend was Lady Russell. It was her husband who, under a former Government, liad been executed. The House of Stuart iad blighted all her hopes, and made her a mourning widow, yet she was willing to safe one of its servants, and prevent another helpless woman from enduring a life- long aniaery.

It was court day at St. James', and William the third stood surrounded with his ©fßcers of State and all the various frequenters of palaces. Here were Dutch, conscious of their master's favor, and English, all united in their hatred to the Dutch, but divided amongst themselves into parties irost distinct and separate; an embsasy from France, after so long a war, at least reconciled to its neighbor; county members gaping at royalty ; and semi- Jacobites, making a comparison between the present and past courts — a motley group, seemingly all pleased and gratified, but concealing many a plot and conspiracy under quiet placid brows and smiling countenances. It was through this throng that, on this particular occasion, two ladies made their way to the King. One of these was young and fair, the other old, with silvery hair, and the sober attire of a widow. No one could study her face without seeing that she had once suffered a great and crushing eorrow. As she passed up towards William, all turned to look at her, and she received many respectful salutations from the by-standers. They stood before ths King, and the younger kneeling amidst breathless silence, placed in his hands a short petition. William's stern countenance grew sterner as he cast his eye over the paper. The lady ventured not to look at him, but kept her eyes fixed on the ground; but her pompanion stood erect and watched the King. At last he spoke, "Lady Russell do you favor the petitioner ? Do you wish this granted ? "

" Myliege, I do." "It is enough, I cannot refuse you a boon of this nature. If you can forgive such as Lord Clancarty, surely I should. Lady Claccarty, your husband is pardoned, but he must leave the country." The fair creature burst into tears as the King raised her from the ground, and was led away by her kind old friend. Need we say more ? Lord and Lady Clancarty left England in a few days for Altona. He had not only pardon but a pension granted to him, and in the society of a "wife he loved, spent many happy years.

A Telegram in the Melbourne " Argus," of the 26th ulto, says :— " Bt far the most extensive conflagration that has ever taken place in Beechworfch occurred on Saturday, abcufc midnight, at Newsori's Empire Hotel So alarming were the flames, that at one period it was thought the whole town would be consumed ; as it is, no less than eight buildinss were destroyed, including the post office (built of granite), two brick stores, one brick dwelling, and four wooden stores and offices. The fire originated in the stables of the hotel, which were crowded -with horEes at the time. All were got out but one. By the greatest exertion the banks of Australasia and Victoria were saved from total destruction. The estimated loss is about LBOOO. The following are amongst the heaviest losers : — J. Young, 11200 (uninsured) ; William Newson, L 1,200 {uninsured) ; and James Ingram, LI9OO (in. sured). The mails, books and records were saved, with the exception oi a few loose letters. The Australasian and Globe Insurance Companies are interested. An inquest trill be held this- afternoon. An influential committee has been formed to rais* funds for the benefit of the sufferers '