and persuasion were used to make Edmund a party to their wishes, but in vain. Nothing therefore remained out to take him abroad, and prevent all correspondence between him and " the artful_Irish_girl," as they called her. Accordingly his mother and family removed to Italy. At first, Edmund was in a state of irritability and sorrow; his letters to Ireland were intercepted, and those poor Rose wrote never reached him. His mother used all her influence (and she had much) to divert his thoughts and affections. She required his constant attendance, and introduced him into the best and most attractive society; he was very young, and by degrees he became less unhappy, and entered into all the amusements which surrounded him. Rose's silence at first pained him to the heart, but insensibly weaned his thoughts from her. His military penchant again revived, and he entreated his father and mother to get him a commission. Accordingly his father (his mother no longer dissenting) wrote to Colonel L -r a friend of his in London, to procure one for Edmund as soon as possible. At this time they had been two years in Italy, and his mother's health quite re-established; they prepared to return home.

But how did the young forsaken wife support the neglect of the faithless wanderer? Had she forgotten him? Had she ceased to love him? No! such is not woman's nature. Woman worships to the last the idol of her heart, though the beauty of the shrine be fled, leaving it a broken and deserted ruin. Day after day, she awaited his promised letters, till at length wearied with disappointment her spirits sank; doubts of Edmund's truth were the last to present themselves to her mind, but too soon they did come in all their bitterness. Indignation at first swelled her gentle bosom, but tenderness and love soon resumed their place, and left her mourning over the past in fruitless sorrow. It almost broke her fond uncle's heart to see his sweet Rose evidently drooping, her cheek so pale,—her eyes dim with tears,—the music of her voice hushed to silence, her health rapidly declining. was a blighted flower fading away even in the morning of spring. physician (an old friend of her uncle's) whom he called on to attend her, could not minister to a mind diseased. He recommended change of air and scene as absolutely necessary to arrest, if possible, the malady which threatened her. Her uncle had some military friends in Plymouth, and thither he purposed going, for a while, and trying the effects of the southern climate of England on his beloved child. Those only, who have felt the lingering death of hope, and the soul sickening pangs of suspense, can know how surely they undermine health and strength.

She

The

The wound poor Rose had received from him she loved, sank festering deeply into her bosom. The solitude of her mountain home, and the seclusion in which she lived, were calculated to preserve in their first freshness the tender and confiding feelings of her bosom, which intercourse with the heartless world but too often wither and destroy. Her restoration therefore to health and happiness, were beyond the reach of art, which may occasionally alleviate suffering, but can never triumph over nature.

The Beaumont family had been some months re-established in their English home, where they were welcomed by their happy prosperous tenantry. Edmund had been gazetted immediately on his return, and his military ardour was likely to be put to the test. His regiment in a very short time was ordered out to India. His mother was in despair, and urged him to sell out, but he would not listen to such a proposal. Fear of the Irish connection was ever before his father's mind; and, of the two, he preferred that which in his prejudiced opinion was the lesser evil. Ali was

preparation for Edmund's departure; he took a most affecting and tender leave of his family and of his mother in particular, whom he fondly loved. He was to join his brother officers at Plymouth, from whence they were to sail. The day after his arrival at that port, as he passed through part of the town, which commands a view of the sea, his attention was attracted by a female figure sitting at a window of one of the houses; her cheek rested on her hand, which thus shaded her face; but the outline of the head, with its drapery of golden ringlets falling round it, and the elegance of the slight delicate figure in the stillness of its attitude, reminded him of a face and form he once loved in all the pride of health and beauty. His heart throbbed at the recollection, and he stood transfixed. Slowly the lady turned to gaze on the sea. Oh! what remorse filled his soul, as the present shadowy likeness of the former fair original met his view. The bright colouring of the morning bloom was gone; the hue of death had replaced it. Alas! how changed! Yet she was still the same. Edmund's frame trembled; his brain seemed on fire. In the impetuosity of youth, he sought admittance to the house, and rushing into the drawing-room where she sat, caught the faded form of his deserted wife in his arms, pressing her cold lips, and calling her by every endearing title. But she heard him not. Unexpected joy is often as oppressive as sorrow. It proved too much for Rose, in her delicate state of health, and ere she could pronounce her husband's name she had fainted. He rang for assistance: the uncle, and Nora appeared.

It is vain to attempt describing Edmund's feelings of shame and remorse, as he once more met the kind-hearted old captain. He could only say that he had come to make reparation for all the sorrow he had caused him, and his lovely niece. The old man looking towards her inanimate form, shook his head sorrowfully, and the tears trembled on his eye-lids. Nora's restoratives recalled Rose to consciousness. Her eyes immediately turned towards Edmund, who knelt beside her. As she met his returning glance of affection, she seemed to gain strength. Her physician (who had been sent for) and her uncle would not then permit any explanation likely to excite her, but in a few days all was told, and Edmund forgiven. In her uncle's presence, he and Rose were again united, according to the rites of the Church of England, and the young husband determined that nothing but death should again separate them. Yet, how could she undergo all the difficulties of a long voyage, in her precarious state of health? The troops were under sailing orders in a few days, and he must accompany them. How leave her? The physicians declared it might cost her life to take her to sea, in her very weak state, and at that time of the year. Edmund could not oppose them. He and poor Rose were again doomed to part, but it was arranged that she should follow in the latter end of May, three months after his departure, under the protection of an experienced captain and his wife. As long as Edmund remained, Rose seemed to improve in health. The lustre of her eye brightened; the colour on her cheek returned in greater loveliness; but darkness was beneath that light, and death beneath that bloom. Treacherous consumption ever cheating the hopes of love, preyed on the young victim, while decking her with beauty for the grave.

Edmund was at length forced to go, and after the sad parting, hope still fluttered in the young wife's bosom, sustaining her fast fleeting existence. Her uncle promised to follow her and Edmund to India, but was now obliged to return to Ireland in order to dispose of his property. He therefore, on a beautiful morning in the latter end of May, committed his beloved child to the protection of the captain and his wife, who promised to consider

VOL. IV. NO. XV.

her as their own, until they restored her to her husband. Poor Rose for some time seemed to revive, under the influence of the sea air and voyage, and her kind friends began to trust she might recover; but it was a false hope. By degrees she daily grew weaker. One lovely evening in the middle of June, they carried her to a sofa placed for her on deck. She had been more than usually weak that day, and they hoped the freshness of the evening breeze might revive her. The captain's wife took a seat by her side. Her breathing was short and hurried, yet she did not appear to suffer much. The sun was just then setting, the horizon appeared on fire lit up by its golden rays. As it sank to rest on the waters, Rose raised herself with much difficulty from her reclining posture to gaze for a moment on its parting light, which she had ever loved to contemplate, when it beamed at summer eve on all the matchless beauties of her distant home. The efforts, or the feelings it excited, proved too much for her, and she fell back exhausted on the couch it was soon evident to her anxious friends, that the tide of life was fast ebbing from her bosom. She looked expressively at them, then raising her eyes to Heaven, and breathing a fervent prayer, the stillness of death stole over her lovely features, proclaiming too truly that life's short voyage was at an end. The bright sun had set on her for ever. No church bell tolled for her, no prayers were chaunted. The cold ocean was her grave; the wild cry of the sea birds was her funeral dirge, and the morning breeze, as it crested the wave, breathed a requiem to her departed spirit. One year after this sad event, and the Beaumont family mourned the death of their youngest son. He had fallen in the service of his country.

Captain Fitzallan survived his beloved niece but a few months; he sleeps amidst the beautiful ruins of Mucruss Abbey.

pen.

ROYAL AUTOGRAPHS.

HENRY the Eighth wrote a strong hand, but as if he had seldom a good "The vehemence of his character," says D'Israeli, "convey itself into his writing,-bold, hasty, and commanding. I have no doubt that the assertor of the Pope's supremacy, and its redoubted opponent, split many a good quill." The autograph of the mild and feminine Edward VI. is fair, flowing, and legible; and that of Queen Elibabeth, stiff, firm, and elaborate, written in a large, tall character, and with very upright letters, denoting asperity and ostentation. Her ill-fated sister queen, poor Mary Stuart, wrote elegantly, though usually in uneven lines; in a style indicative of simplicity, softness, and amiability. James I. wrote an ungainly scrawl, all awry, and careless; strongly marking the personal negligence he carried into all the affairs of life. The first Charles's was a fair, open, Italian hand, most correctly formed; and his successor, the witty monarch's volatile, heedless, restless character, is not incorrectly exhibited in his little pretty running hand, scribbled, as it were, in haste and impatience. The phlegmatic temper and matter-of-business habits of James II. are evinced in his large commercial autograph; and Queen Anne's commonplace character, in her good, commonplace handwriting.

T

THE CASTLES AND MANSIONS OF GREAT

BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

Castle Coole, co. Fermanagh.

SEAT OF THE EARL OF BELMORE.

This noble residence of the Earls of Belmore is about a mile distant from Enniskillen, on the banks of the fair Lake Erne. The approach from the town affords a fine prospect of a picturesque sheet of water, studded with a vast number of islands-all of them green, and many of sufficient size to afford pasturage to flocks and herds. I know no part of Ireland more interesting than this country. In scenery, in historical fame, and modern improvement, it rivals every country in Europe. Mr. and Mrs. Hall, in their work on Ireland, must be regarded as good judges, having seen and observed closely almost the whole of the United Kingdom, and, speaking of this locality, remark, “It is, however, to the grace and grandeur of Nature that we desire to direct the attention of our readers. Travel where they will, in this singularly beautiful neighbourhood, lovers of the picturesque will have rare treats at every step. It is impossible to exaggerate in describing the surpassing loveliness of the whole locality. How many thousands there are, who, if just ideas could be conveyed to them of its attractions, would make their annual tour hither instead of up the "hackneyed and sodden Rhine," infinitely less rich in natural graces, far inferior in the studies of character it yields, and much less abundant in all the enjoyments that can recompense the traveller! Nothing in Great Britain-perhaps nothing in Europe-can surpass in beauty the view along the road that leads into Enniskillen. Now, without drawing any invidious comparison between Lough Erne and the Rhine, I must say that I think it a shame so many of our Irish tourists will, year after year, betake themselves abroad, leaving unknown and unnoticed the equally charming natural beauties of their own green Isle. Is it because it is their own they despise it? How true the remark—“ What we have we prize not at its worth," and no stronger instance exists than the fact of Lough Erne, the Blackwater in Munster, and other scenes, the subject of delight and encomium to the strangers who visit them from other lands, being hardly known as places worth the trouble of looking at to the inhabitants of Ireland, and seldom sought by the tourist. Let it be our pleasing task to call attention to these neglected scenesto guide the native footstep thither-to awaken an interest for Ireland in the breasts of Irishmen of all shades and classes, and make them at length feel they have a common country, and as we are essentially an aristocratic people, no where can this be so appropriately carried out than in the pages of the Patrician.

Castle Coole is a mansion of regular uniform style. The elegance of the design, the scale of magnificence observed in the internal arrangements, and the singular beauty of its surrounding scenery, must render it an object of admiration to every age. The house consists of a square centre with extensive wings, along the centre of which runs a façade supported by Tastun pillars, and the whole being of Portland stone be

speak the pure and elegant simplicity which marked the designs of Paladio. A graceful approach leads nearly round the mansion, and as it traverses the wide spread lawns, rich and varied plantations meet the sight. The park is profusely supplied with trees, some dotting the verdant mead in single piles, others grouped in clumps. Numerous lakes, some of great extent-bearing wooded islets on their grassy bosoms, diversify tree and field. I never witnessed a greater profusion of water fowl; birds of every kind that haunt the stream held revelry as I passed. The offices, also faced with Portland stone, form a neat and well ordered quadrangle not far from the mansion. The view from the hall door looking over a great extent of country, is one scene of striking and enchanting loveli

ness.

The family is of Scottish extraction. John Lowry, a native of Scotland, having emigrated to this part of the British dominions towards the close of the 17th century settled at Ahenis in the county Tyrone. As might have been expected he took part with the supporters of William of Nassau, during the civil wars of 1688-9, and had the misfortune to lose his wife during the dreadful privations which the garrison, besieged within the walls of Londonderry, experienced. Several of his descendants represented the county Tyrone in the Irish House of Commons, and, on 6th January 1781, Armar Lowry, Esq. M.P., was elevated to the Peerage of Ireland as Baron Belmore of Castle Coole, on which occasion he assumed the name and arms of Corry. Another branch of this family is seated at Pomeroy House, represented by Robert William Lowry, Esq.* The Earldom of Belmore was conferred by creation 5th Nov. 1797. The present earl is a minor, having lately succeeded his lamented father.

Before leaving Enniskillen, I paid a visit to a very astonishing island in Lake Erne-Devenish or Daim Inis, signifying the Island of the Ox, in Latin it was called Bovis Insula, I conclude from the number of these animals that were accustomed to browse on the grass which grows so luxuriantly. It contains about eighty acres, and was the chosen seat of religion and learning in days of yore. The first abbey is said to have been founded here as early as A.D. 563 by St. Laserian. The Danes frequently plundered the monastery. Over the altar of the church is a richly ornamented window, and near it on a tablet built in the wall is the following inscription in very rude raised characters.

Mattheus O'Dubigan hoc opus fecit

Bartholameo O'Flanagan Priori de Daminio 1449.

The O'Flanagans-Lords of Tura-Tuath Ratha, i.e. the District of the Fortress, had considerable possessions along the borders of Lake Erne, comprising at one time, the whole of the present Barony of Magheroboy, but sharing the fortunes of their chief king and kinsman, Maguire Prince of Fermanagh, lost the whole of those estates by repeated confiscations. On the Island of Devenish is one of the most perfect round towers It is built of hewn stone, each about a foot square. The conical roof having been endangered by a small tree growing out of the slight interstices, caused some repairs requisite which were executed with great skill, and this memento of the days of old restored to its pristine

state.

• Burke's Commoners, vol. iii. p. 140.