pavilion-tower of the castle, a male heir, upon this event, should then be wanting to the noble house of Tyrconnel. And this sad occurrence, so deprecated by the dark and credulous terror and tenor of those superstitious times, actually occurred some months previous to Adelaide's birth: a raven had then built her nest within the ducal coronet; and a few posts after brought an account that Lord Richard Raymond, the Duke's only brother, had been killed in a duel at Paris. From this partial fulfilment of the augury the Duke's dependants were filled with the melancholy forebodings that the Duchess, expiring during the pains of parturition, should give birth either to a still-born, or a female infant.

However the latter supposition proved to be well-founded, as the Duchess was soon safely delivered of a female child, in due and given time, upon the Eve of All-Hallows, the 31st day of October, in the year one thousand six hundred and——pending the bodings of the raven, and the vaticinations of the vicinage.

The family of Tyrconnel, through the female line, traced their high descent from a proud and ennobled ancestry, (not less illustrious than that of the noble Duke;) the pedigree was traced from the hight chieftain, famed Nial Necalloch, (or, Nial of the Nine Hostages,) who in his glorious and chivalrous career had achieved various noble feats in arms. But not content with these successes at home, he sought for fame in foreign lands, where in the ardent search and attainment of glory, his gallant course of valour run, he closed his brave and honourable life amid the sunny regions of France; where this warlike planet, this Mars of Erin, expired upon the banks of the Loire,[7] falling like the valiant Richard I. of England, "The lion-hearted," by the arrow of the assassin.

Indeed the house of Tyrconnel might be truly called a noble family, "for all the daughters were chaste, and all the sons were valiant." Per acuta belli was the motto which fearlessly they bore, and which, ever unchanged amid the war-trumpet's clang, the burst of battle, and the shouts of victory, or the dismaying groans of defeat, they proudly and nobly maintained; their escutcheon might oft have been encrimsoned by the blood of the bold, but it still defended the heart, and was upheld by the arm of the brave!

The Duke traced his ancient, lordly, and lineal descent from Raymond Count of Toulouse, who was the first zealous champion in serving, and enthusiastically heading, the Christian cause in the holy wars.

Adelaide Raymond, the only child of Raymond Duke of Tyrconnel, was born upon the 31st day of October, anno salutis, one thousand six hundred and——upon the Eve of All-Hallows, as we have already noticed. His Royal Highness James Duke of York, (brother and presumptive heir to Charles II.,) and who afterwards succeeded to the throne of the triple realms as James II., upon this happy event was most graciously pleased to signify his royal intention of standing sponsor for Lady Adelaide; which high distinction was gratefully and proudly accepted by the Duke and Duchess of Tyrconnel; and the Lord Glandarrah was chosen as proxy for the royal sponsor.

Adelaide almost immediately after her birth had been privately baptized; but the first day of May, which had now arrived, was the day appointed for the state christening. The Duchess d'Aremberg, an early friend of the Duchess of Tyrconnel, stood godmother for the Lady Adelaide, and appointed Lady Lucy Raymond, the Duke's youngest sister, as her proxy. Nor did the Duchess d'Aremberg forget to send a baptismal present upon this august occasion, which arrived in due season, in the shape and form of an infant's cap and frock, all beautifully formed of exquisite Brussels lace, and made under the eye and express directions of the illustrious godmother: and to these were added a scarf and sash of rich Mechlin lace. Nor did Her Grace omit also to send, as was then usual, a handsome honorarium to the child's nurse, Mrs. Judith Braingwain, with whom our gentle reader, in due and given time and place, shall become better acquainted in the following pages of this our eventful history.

But with due leave and respect we must now be permitted to say a word or two concerning the ancient and noble baronial castle, where the high and exalted ceremonial of this day was with such pomp to be celebrated.

The castle of Tyrconnel was situated in the province of Ulster, where its majestic stately ruins still remain magnificent even in decay. It stood upon the verge of a triangular village, to which it gave its own ennobled name, as it was the generic name at that period of the town and the county, which was a district of large extent. Since that time, in these our modern days, the ancient name of Tyrconnel has been changed into Donegal.[8]

The castle is boldly elevated upon the rocky and precipitous margin of the river Eske, which rolls its impetuous torrent into the Atlantic Ocean, from which it is only half-a-mile distant. Mountains surround the castle on every side, except to the west, from which point receding, they open a noble vista to the sea, and give a solemn and magnificent character to the entire scenery. Here the curving and fantastic outlines of the distant mountains, clad in ë blue, arise in endless and beautiful variety, glowing or darkening with every varying tint and tone of sun-shine or of shadow, reflecting each rainbow hue of the atmosphere, and then boldly blending sky and mountain into one congregated mass of undefinable tint; so that the dark blue cloud which rolls above can with difficulty be distinguished from the dark blue mountain that, towering, frowns beneath.

The approach to the majestic steep where this ancient and celebrated fortress stands, is through the well-known pass of Barna-More, or the great gap; which is here formed by the opening arms of the stupendous mountain of Sleavedoon, whose gigantic heights constitute vast continuous barriers to the extent of fourteen miles, girdling within their extended embrace a varied and lonely valley, which expands and smiles beneath.

This massive fabric was planned and piled in the twelfth century by the first Earl of Tyrconnel, and was then, and subsequently for a series of years, garrisoned as a fortress. The castle, although by no means deficient in architectural grandeur, yet appears to have been constituted principally with a view to strength; and that object unquestionably in those days was fully attained, for it was utterly impregnable to all hostile attacks in that early age. The form of the castle is square, and flanked by frowning turrets of similar conformation; the ground-plan is constructed upon an extended scale, and the design of the building is withal irregular: a large magnificent quadrangular court-yard adorns the interior, which is surrounded by bastions, battlements, and towers.

There is a projecting barbican, whose fragments yet remain still boldly overhanging the river Eske, and which seems to have been intended for the purpose of supplying the castle with water, while it is also supposed to have been occasionally used as a donjon-keep, and which afforded an expeditious mode of despatching the prisoners whom the haughty