The thirty-first day of October, anno salutis sixteen hundred and ----, being the Eve of All-Hallows, happened also to be the anniversary of the birth-day of our heroine, which was duly to be celebrated upon this memorable day with more than its accustomed splendour, as we have already premised in the foregoing chapter.
Adelaide had now entered her seventeenth year; so rapidly doth old father Time speed along, borne upon his ever fugitive wings, verifying the truly appropriate motto that we have somewhere seen engraved upon the dial of a clock, "DUM SPECTAS, FUGIO!"—"while you look on, I fly!"
Mrs. Judith Braingwain, Lady Adelaide's nurse and foster-mother, and who from the very beginning seemed resolved not to hold a subordinate place in the back ground of our story, but firmly determined to carry matters on in somewhat a consequential way, had now become her young Lady's femme de chambre, and was ever and had been on the alert in instilling into her youthful and susceptible mind the superstitions of her native isle; and these stories, daily and hourly as they were repeated, did not fail to make an impression upon a youthful and romantic mind. This morning, at an early hour, she attended upon her young lady and foster-child, a title she was pre-eminently proud of using upon all occasions. The Irish have been ever proverbial for loving their foster-children even beyond their own, and the ancient crone who made her appearance was a living proof of the truth of the assertion. Mrs. Braingwain having respectfully and affectionately congratulated her noble foster-child upon the anniversary of her birth, entered into a long and elaborate series of reminiscences of all the sad and mournful events which had happened to herself and others upon the Eve of All-Hallows. But as we are inclined to imagine that the old lady's melancholy ditties are not very likely to awaken an interest and sympathy in the reader's breast, we have therefore magnanimously determined to suppress them altogether.
The loquacious old dame continued her long-winded reminiscences without the slightest compunction of mercy or conscience, until interrupted by the tolling forth of the breakfast bell, which luckily saved the Lady Adelaide from further prolixity, by at once silencing the garulous old nurse, whom she regarded from her early years, and wished not to offend. Adelaide rejoiced at the timely interruption that cut short the prosings of the old crone, and promptly descended to the breakfast-room.
A number of young people of both sexes were invited to dinner, to celebrate Adelaide's birth-day; and the party was to be enlarged in the evening by an invitation to crack nuts at the castle, which was sure to include the nucleus of a good supper. All the principal persons of distinction for several miles around the castle were invited, and all with alacrity obeyed the festive summons.
Lady Adelaide, although not always much interested upon such festivals, yet upon this occasion manifested some degree of anxiety, which was caused no doubt by that noble generosity of character which she so eminently possessed, and ever invariably felt greater pleasure in the gratification of her friends, than in being personally gratified.
The dinner went off with much eclat; pleasantry, wit, and good-humour, all aiding with their potent charms. When the cloth was removed from the ducal table, and the desert and wines were duly placed in order, a stately plateau of confectionary and pastry arrived at the side-table, which was destined for the juvenile guests, who were there seated. That day was indeed a right busy one to all the cooks, scullions, and kitcheners of the household. The thrifty pastry-cooks of these happy days were most notable for, and assumed very considerable pride, in raising those superstructures called "pastry fortifications." The display chosen for this festival was the model of Tyrconnel Castle, flanked by bastion, battlement, and tower; armorial flags, heraldically emblazoned in sugar, decorated the summit of each tower and parapet; and the fosse was floated from its parent Eske, which, instead of a mountain-stream, supplied the said fosse with a broad and deep portion of excellent Spanish flummery, upon which was anchored a tiny Armada; the heights of the barbican and the embrasures of the terrace were defended with a long train of "eatable artillery," and manned by a large disposable garrison of sugar-almonds; the watch-towers were alternately constructed of jelly and blanc manger.
The Duke now gave the word of "assault!" which command was incontinently obeyed, the juvenile party in every direction making one grand attack, by a general coup de fourchette, de couteau, de cullier. The assault was crowned with entire success; the fosse of Spanish flummery quickly disappeared; the whole train of "eatable artillery" promptly were destroyed; the jelly and blanc manger towers were scaled, battered down, and swallowed in a thrice; the Armada shattered and dispersed; the entire garrison without any remorse or mercy were devoured, and the "pastry fortifications" completely razed, without leaving a wreck behind! This attack upon the confectionary bijou much gratified the juvenile assailants, and highly pleased the noble hosts, and the grave company seated at their festive board were most marvellously entertained withal.