and where agencies had commenced to work by which these elements were to be organised and directed. The iniquity of such a system of government had now come to the full; the punishment of feebleness and distraction came upon it, and it has never since been adequate to the task which the difficulties of Ireland have assigned to it as its honourable but too arduous duty.

We will not say that the temptation to enter upon a discussion of the subject thus presented to us, is without its force; but we can, because we must, withstand it. We turn to a topic which permits us to be brief.

The papers from which we have offered these extracts to the reader were found in an English mansion, in the manuscript department of an English nobleman's library. They are not the only papers having Ireland as their subject which that library has preserved, nor is that the only library in which it has

been our fortune to peruse manuscripts illustrative of our country's history. It is very desirable that those who are possessed of such relics would consider how far it might prove expedient to make the public acquainted with them. In many instances, we believe, they would furnish the most authentic and trustworthy intelligence as to the character of the times in which they were written, and would thus enable us to measure and estimate our social progress.

Whoever takes the trouble to compare the strictures contained in Mr. Montagu's "Expedition" with the testimony borne by Arthur Young seventeen years after, will feel amazed that in so short a time so much improvement could have been effected; and even under all the disasters and discouragements which have fallen upon us in these latter days, there are still discernible indications of continued advancement.

IN the rural parish of Rathmore (barony of Lune, county of Meath), about two and a-half miles from the small town of Athboy, are the ruins of a church and a castle, with which are connected some curious oral traditions that are not without corroboration from old monuments, records, and pedigrees.

Of the castle, which was once extensive, there is now extant but one high, square, massive tower, with many loopholes, few and irregular windows, and small door-ways, celllike rooms, and the narrow stone stairs leading to the top. Midway of these stairs is a miserable dark little den, with a vaulted roof and one window, and so confined that with outstretched arms you may touch both side-walls at

once.

Yet this is said to have been the accustomed sleeping-room of the last lineal inheritor of Rathmore. Some few yards from the castle are the relics of the square Keep.

The church, once a handsome structure, stands amidst a recent but close plantation, above which rises a graceful square tower, lighted at top by

arched windows, and looking, amid the young trees, like a patriarch surrounded by his grandchildren. The interior of the roofless church is filled with grave-stones, long grass, and sapling trees. The walls are nearly entire. In one of the half-dilapidated turrets is the sacristy (entered from the chancel), within which a heap of rubbish marks the operations of a treasureseeker, who some years ago dreamed that the church plate and a sum of money were buried here in a corner. Ile came hither alone at midnight, and setting his lantern on the floor, commenced digging; but suddenly he heard an unearthly noise near the hearth, looked up, and saw, to his horror, the spectral form of a robed ecclesiastic frowning on him with a most threatening visage. The digger dropped his spade and fled, not daring to look behind till he reached the shelter of his own cabin. He never renewed the search, and his report suf ficed to deter others from a similar attempt.

In the chancel is a large and beautiful window, its shapely stone mul

lions forming quatrefoils above; without, it is surmounted by a finely sculptured head regally crowned-two graceful female heads finish the base, one at each side. Beneath this window, in the interior, is an ancient altar tomb with the recumbent effigy of a knight. Near it lies an old sculptured and inscribed stone, and the sculptured fragments of an elaborate monument are built into the south wall. To these tombs we shall hereafter refer.

The church was dedicated to St. Laurence the Deacon, martyred at Rome, A.D. 261, by being broiled to death on a gridiron. Patent rolls as early as Richard II. make mention of the church of Rathmore. Near to it a holy well was venerated as under the patronage of a later saint of the same name, St. Laurence O'Toole Archbishop of Dublin (twelfth century) to whom also is dedicated a rude rock⭑ with indentations on its surface, said by the peasantry to be the marks of the prelate's fingers.

The name Rathmore-i.e., the great Rath is said to be derived from a royal rath occasionally inhabited in this locality by King Neil Glun Duv (Neil of the Black Knee, who reigned from 916 to 919, A.D.)

In the early part of the fifteenth century the Lord of Rathmore was Sir Christopher Cruys (in modern spelling, Cruise), who had beside many large possessions, and among them the castles and estates of Cruisetown and Moydorragh, lying near each other in the barony of Morgallion in Meath. Of Sir Christopher and his family a singular history is orally preserved among the descendants of the rural denizens of Rathmore in the olden time.

According to the tradition, Sir Christopher Cruys lived to a mature age unmarried; his nephews, therefore, entertained hopes of succeeding to all his large property; but late in life the good knight, losing his taste for celibacy, married a lady with whose beauty and amiable disposition he had been

captivated. This marriage enraged his kinsmen, some of whom resided at Robertstown and others at Brittas, seats in the vicinity of Cruisetown. They testified peculiar hostility to Lady Cruys, whose conduct in all respects was most exemplary, and who lived in perfect harmony with her husband. În due time she gave promise of presenting Sir Christopher with a direct heir; and the disappointed expectants wickedly determined on destroying both the knight and the lady before the birth of the child.

It happened that Sir Christopher and his wife went to spend some days at the Castle of Cruisetown, which is no longer extant, but it was then a strong edifice, and stood beside an artificial mound near the now ruined church,† and in view of a small lake. One fine sunny day Sir Christopher induced his lady, for the sake of exer cise, to walk with him to Moydorragh. Unfortunately they took no attendant; for though well aware that the kins

men

were much displeased at their uncle's marriage, the latter had no suspicion of the extent of their malevolence. The movements of the knight and lady had, however, been watched by spies; and on their return from Moydorragh an ambush was set for them near the Castle of Cruisetown. Just as they came in sight of the castle, Lady Cruys perceiving the brightness of the day to be suddenly overcast by some peculiar kind of obscurity, looked up, and saw in the sky a terrific phenomenon, like the well-defined and dark figure of a giant, looking down upon them with a fiend-like aspect. Alarmed at such an unusual appearance, a nervous apprehension seized her mind, and she exclaimed in Irish (then the vernacular), "Oh, Sir Christopher! look up! see! some dreadful danger threatens us. That sign is a warning; let us hurry home haste! haste!"

Sir Christopher tried to smile away her fears as mere superstition, telling her that the apparition was only form

but has been moved to about half a mile

ed by a cloud, though he must own it was a singular one; but even supposing it supernatural, why should they believe it directed to them rather than to any other person in the neighbourhood? But Lady Cruys replied, "It is it is, indeed, for us. See! the dark shadow of the figure has fallen upon us, cold and black. Hasten home! hasten home!"

As she was hurrying her husband forwards, several armed men, led by his relatives, sprang from a thicket, and rushed towards them. The knight was armed with the small sword commonly worn. He drew it; and setting his back to a tree, defended himself as well as he could from the murderous attack, and said to his wife, "Run now! run for life for my life as well as your own. On to the castle, and send me help." Lady Cruys fled with the speed of one who did run for life, but two of the assailants sprang after her with drawn swords. She had, however, a few paces' advantage, which she kept, for terror winged her feet. Her cries as she approached the castle had been heard, and the gate was opened at the instant she reached itone moment longer of delay had been fatal, for the pursuers were then so near (says tradition), that just as the gate closed on the fugitive, one of them, making a blow at her, cut off a part of her mantle that streamed behind.

The poor breathless lady was scarcely able to give her orders to the domestics ; but they quickly comprehended her; and hurrying out at a postern, they sped to their master, whom they found left quite alone under the tree that had supported him, pierced with wounds, and covered with blood, but still alive, and in possession of his faculties. They stanched the blood, and conveyed him gently to the castle. But he was mortally wounded; and only lived long enough to receive the rites of his Church, to give some directions, and bid a tender farewell to his disconsolate wife, in whose arms he expired.

The new-made widow felt that her husband's life was not the only sacrifice sought; she knew that her own, and that of the unborn heir were at stake, and she resolved to do her utmost to save both, and defeat the cupidity of her enemies. To this end she determined on flying to England

for safety, and securing the title-deeds of Sir Christopher's property, and as much of the family plate as she could. All of the latter that was at Cruisetown she placed in a strong oak chest, with heavy stones in the bottom, and had it conveyed secretly by night out of the castle, and sunk in the neighbouring lake. To save the plate and papers at Rathmore were her next object; to attain which she must leave Cruisetown by stratagem, lest she should be intercepted. She kept the castle closely barred from all intruders, and despatched a messenger to Rathmore, requiring the attendance of the domestics at the funeral of their late master in Cruisetown Church. She then caused it to be reported that she was dangerously ill from agitation and over-exertion.

By torchlight the relatives and tenants of Sir Christopher Cruys crowded the small church to witness the obsequies of the murdered man, whose widow was then announced to be dead. While their attention was thus engaged, another funeral train, composed of trusty men of Rathmore, issued silently from the postern, bearing a coffin covered with a pall, but pierced throughout with holes to admit air to the poor trembling mourner, who lay within as a corpse. To any who questioned them on their road they replied, that they were conveying the remains of Lady Cruys to Rathmore, as she could not be interred with her deceased husband on account of the family feuds.

Gently, but speedily, was the journey performed; the coffin was taken into the castle of Rathmore, and its faint and cramped inmate lifted out, and tended by eager hands. But no time was to be lost-scarcely was she recovered from her fatigues, when she hastily selected the principal parchments, and packed them for conveyance; then collecting the plate, she saw it nailed closely down in the coffin, which was carried into the Church of St. Laurence, and laid in a readyprepared grave, amid the tears of those who believed it to contain the corpse of their beloved lady.

Day had not yet dawned when Lady Cruys, closely disguised, stole away from Rathmore, accompanied by one female domestic, and bearing with her the title-deeds, her jewels, and a sum of money. She reached Dublin, and

embarked on board a vessel bound for London, where she arrived in safety. And there she gave birth to a daughter, whom she named Mary Anne; and immediately notified, in due form the facts of her own existence, and the birth of her child, to the kinsmen of Sir Christopher, and asserted the right of his posthumous heiress. But strong in the possession of the property they had usurped, they laughed to scorn the claims of a helpless widow and infant in another country.

Lady Cruys endeavoured to obtain redress from the English courts of law; but her resources were soon exhausted, and her exertions were barred by poverty. Years elapsed; the young girl grew up, the heiress of large estates, but inured to an inheritance of unmitigated want and care. Mother and daughter were reduced to so low an ebb that they were compelled to support themselves by the labour of their hands. But Lady Cruys had instructed Mary from childhood in all her rights, teaching her the names and descriptions of the several portions of her estates; and the dispossessed heiress had amused herself at her toils by composing on the subject of her inheritance a simple song in Irish, in which language she and her mother always conversed, as their native tongue.

At the period to which the narrative has now reached, Sir Thomas Plunket, of Killeen (Meath), happened to be in London. He was the third son of Christopher Plunket, first Baron of Killeen. Sir Thomas belonged to the legal profession, and when in London frequented the Temple. One day, when in the Temple Gardens, and leaning over the parapet that divided them from the strand of the Thames, he observed a young and lovely girl, in poor attire, but with an air of gentle blood, washing clothes in the river, and then spreading them on a large stone. She was singing to a plaintive air a song, the words of which he found

to be Irish. He listened with surprise and attention, and soon discovered that the singer was describing her own circumstances.

This is no fiction. A portion of the song has been preserved, solely by oral tradition, for upwards of 400 years. We have collected it in fragments from among the Rathmore peasantry, in its native Irish, from which we have made the following translation, adhering as closely as we could to the metre of the original. As a poetical composition this song has no merit; but the descriptive epithets attached to the dif ferent names are even still applicable. Of the places mentioned in it many are recorded in patents, inquisitions, &c., as being held along with the Manor of Rathmore by the descendants of Mary Cruys.

THE SONG OF MARY CRUYS.

FROM THE ORIGINAL IRISH,

Ah! blessed Mary! hear me sighing,
On this cold stone mean labours plying;
Yet Rathmore's heiress might I name me,
And broad lands rich and many claim me.

Gilstown, Rathbeg, names known from childhood;

Fair Johnstown, hard by bog and wild wood;
Ra-taaffe (Blackwater near it floweth),
And Harton, where the white wheat groweth.

Kilskier, with windows shining brightly;
Teltown, where race the coursers sprightly;
Balreask, abundant dairies showing,
Full pails and churns each day bestowing.

Thee, Ballycred, too, mem'ry prizes;
Old Oristown to mind arises;

Caultown, near bogs, black turf providing;
Rathconny, in its "Baron" priding.

The Twelve Poles, Armabregia, follow;
Kilmainham, of the woody hollow;
Cruisetown, with lake by sunbeams greeted;
Moydorragh gay, mid fair roads seated.

Still could I speak of townlands many;
Three score along the banks of Nanny;
Twelve by the Boyne, if it were pleasure
To dwell on lost and plundered treasure. †

Such was the song of the dispossessed heiress of Rathmore, sung on English ground, in the fifteenth cen. tury; and, by a singular coincidence, brought round in the revolutions of time, the same song was again sung, on English ground, under similar circumstances, in the seventeenth century, by a second unfortunate heiress of Rathmore, a lineal decendant of Mary Cruys. But let us not anticipate.

Sir Thomas Plunket, being himself a native of Meath, was well acquainted with the story of the Cruys family, and with the names of the principal lands, and at once guessed that the young singer must be the lost heiress. He courteously addressed her in Irish (thus conciliating her confidence at the outset), told his name, intimated his suspicion of her real rank, and offered his services. Poor Mary, delighted with this gleam of hope, brought him to the humble dwelling of her mother; who, eager to interest in her cause a man of his importance, showed him all her parchments, and gave him proofs of the identity of her daughter as heiress of Sir Christopher Cruys. Sir Thomas undertook to exert himself for the restitution of the estates; stipulating, however, that if bis efforts proved successful, he should be rewarded with the (no longer empty) hand of his fair client. It were to be wished that he had wooed in a less business-like and more gallant manner; but he was past the heyday of youth, and was a widower.

He conducted the cause with so much ability, that he brought it to a triumphant issue, and married the enriched heiress. He attained the dignity of Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, in Ireland; and he and his lady fixed their residence at the Castle of Rathmore, which thenceforward became the family seat of their descendants, known as the Plunkets of Rathmore. Doubtless, the plate submerged at Cruisetown, and

buried at Rathmore, soon saw the light again, after the restoration of the right owner. A memorial of a visit (perhaps the bridal visit) of Mary and her husband to the seat of Lord Killeen (ancestor of the Earl of Fingal), the father of Sir Thomas, is still extant in the demesne of Killeen.* It is the base of a cross, sculptured with ecclesiastical figures; bearing no date, but incribed with the names of

Thomas Plunket. Maria Crups.

It was the amusement of Lady Plunket, after her happy settlement at Rathmore, to sing for her friends and family the simple Irish song that had attracted the attention of Sir Thomas, and had been (under Providence) the means of her good fortune. Thus it became popular in the neighbourhood, and was long preserved in memory, though now extant but in fragments, never before (we have reason to believe) committed to writing.

Sir Thomas died in 1471. In the churchyard of Athboy is a sculptured tomb, without date or inscription, but bearing the effigies of a knight and a lady: it is said to be the monument of Sir Thomas Plunket, and his wife, Mary Cruys. They were the parents of two sons and three daughters: of the latter, the eldest, Ismay, marrying William Wellesley (or Wesley, as then spelled), has the high, though posthumous, honour of being a direct ancestress of the great Duke of Wellington, who was tenth in descent from her, and eleventh from Mary Cruys, whose story derives an additional interest from her illustrious descendant.†

The eldest son (of Sir Thomas and his wife Mary) died childless. The second, Sir Alexander, succeeded him at Rathmore, and became Lord Chancellor of Ireland, in 1492. A royal grant to the (then) Corporation of Navan, in 1494, bears date from his Castle of Rathmore. He was three times married; first, to a daughter