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McHenry, James, 1785-1845 [1824], O'Halloran, or, The insurgent chief. An Irish historical tale of 1798, volume 2 (H. C. Carey & I. Lea, Philadelphia) [word count] [eaf270v2].
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CHAP. XXIII.

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What is the worst of woes that wait on age?
What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow
To view each loved one blotted from life's page,
And be alone on earth as I am now.
Before the chast'ner humbly let me bow,
O'er hearts divided, and o'er hopes destroyed;
Roll on vain days, full reckless may ye flow,
Since time has 'reft what'er my soul enjoyed!
Byron.

When Edward returned to his father, he was
given to understand that the latter had not many
hours to live.

“Oh father!” cried he, catching his hand and
bathing it in tears; “how soon has it pleased God
to take you from me! You have been to me a good
father. You have ever been to me an example,
a director and a friend. Ah! who can to me supply
your place?”

“Edward,” said his father, “grieve not thus. I
must now repeat what I have often inculcated on
you. Bear misfortunes with the spirit of a man,
and the resignation of a christian. Show yourself,
whether in prosperity or in adversity, worthy of the
house of Barrymore. It is useless, it is unbecoming,
to lament in this manner. And why should we
lament for the result of this day? It ought to be
esteemed a day of rejoicing, and not of grief. We
have crushed a mighty rebellion; and ere I die, I
have the satisfaction to know that the decisiveness
of this day's victory, has secured to my country,
and my children, the blessings of just laws, and a
well regulated government,—a government equally
removed from despotism and anarchy.”

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“These, my son, are blessings worth fighting for,
worth dying for. Edward if you inherit any of
your father's principles and feelings, you will not,
if fate requires it, regret to die for them. When
you have children I know you will not, for the
power of transmitting such a legacy as our incomparably
happy form of government, cannot be purchased
too dear. Ah! what would be my pangs
on this death-bed, if I perceived the enemies of that
truly free and rational government, triumphant,
and all its wise and venerable institutions in danger
of being subverted by the demons of anarchy,
bigotry and massacre. But thank God! in the
midst of my country's madness, in the midst of her
delirious attempts at self-destruction, the weapon
has been wrested from her hand; and although, in
the blind fury of her paroxysm, she has inflicted
dreadful wounds on her welfare and prosperity,
yet, I trust, that the regenerating soundness of her
constitution will soon repair her injuries, and restore
her once more to vigour and happiness.

“Your mother, and your sister, will now look
to you as their protector. I know that you will
treat them with all the care and tenderness, with
which I have treated them. Be to them in my
stead;—be to your country in my stead.”

“My father,” cried Edward, “I shall, with all
my soul, endeavour to be so. But who shall be to
me in your stead?”

His father paused a few moments, and then replied.
“My son, you have a heavenly father;
never, never forget that. But there is also one
man on earth to whom, if he will accept them, I
will resign my rights over you. I hope he will be
to you a parent, such as I have been. I wish to
see Sir Francis Hamilton.”

That gentleman in company with the Lord
Lieutenant, was just approaching to enquire after

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his situation. When they entered his apartment,
“My lord,” said he, “I congratulate you and the
country, on this day's victory. I hope it will terminate
this unnatural rebellion.”

“I hope so,” replied the viceroy; “but we have
purchased it dearly, with your loss.”

“My lord, I am happy to die in such a manner,
and in such a cause. My country will experience
but little injury, for I shall leave her this
young man, my only son, to fill my place; and to
him, Sir Francis Hamilton,” said he, looking at that
gentleman, “I wish you to fill mine. I am no
stranger to his ardent attachment to your daughter;
and although I have never seen her, the circumstances
of her being your child, and his choice,
are to me sufficient for wishing her to become his
wife; and if you have no objection to receive him
as your son-in-law, when I am no more, the reflection
that he has such a prospect of happiness before
him, will contribute much to sooth my dying moments.”

Sir Francis grasping the hand of the patient,
which was extended to him, replied,

“I am sorry that my Edward, for I will now
call him mine, so soon, so suddenly loses such a
father. With all my heart and soul, I shall endeavour,
however imperfectly, to supply the loss;
for if I were to search the whole civilized world, I
should not find a man, whom my heart would prefer
to him, as a husband for my daughter.”

“Then, Edward,” said the Colonel, “give me
your hand. May you soon be happy with the
woman of your choice; and may Heaven bless you
and her with every virtue that may entitle you to
happiness!”

Not many hours after this, Colonel Barrymore
closed his eyes upon all earthly scenes. His body
was carried to Dublin, and thence to Barrymount,

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the family seat, and there buried with his fathers,
in the presence of a large concourse of real mourners.

His brother the Earl, being now much advanced
in life, for he was upwards of fifteen years older
than the Colonel, laid his death so much to heart,
they having ever lived on the most affectionate footing,
that from being only infirm, he became diseased,
and soon felt such a change for the worse
in his constitution, that he prognosticated that he
was speedily approaching to his last illness.

“And I am content that it should be so,” said he
to Edward's mother and sister, (who now resided
at Barrymount for the purpose of giving him their
society) for since my beloved brother has left this
world, it is become to me a world of desolation.
O! I wish, fervently wish to follow him to that
world of happiness, which he now inhabits, and
where when we once meet, we shall never part.”

In the meantime Edward's heart panted to visit
the North. But he could not with propriety leave
his uncle in his present precarious situation. He,
however, in almost daily letters, poured forth the
ardour of his soul to his beloved, and received
from her regular replies, which formed his only
consolation during his present afflictions.

One day his uncle called him to his bed-side.
“Edward,” said he, “on you will soon devolve the
duty of supporting, in the world, the name, rank,
and respectability of our family, which I am
proud to say has never yet been tarnished by a
mean or an unprincipled act. There is nothing in
the world I value so highly, as this family reputation.
I received it pure from my ancestors, and
neither your father nor I, have, thank God! done
any thing to sully it. To you it shall soon be committed
as a sacred trust. You will guard, therefore,
with solicitude, and transmit it to your

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posterity as pure as you found it; and may heaven
grant you a virtuous offspring to know its value,
and perpetuate its purity!”

“There is one thing in which, if you can indulge
me, you will afford me great gratification. I
understand that your father, on his death-bed, gave
his assent to your marriage with a lady in the
county of Antrim, to whom you are attached. I
should be glad before I die to see that lady, whose
conduct is to have such influence on the future reputation
of the name of Barrymore; for, on the
mother of a family, the transmission of its character
depends more than on any other individual.
You may deem such a desire as this whimsical;
and, perhaps, with respect to the lady, not altogether
delicate. But it is surely natural that I should
be desirous to see the mother of the future Barrymores.
From the lady my desire may be kept
concealed; consequently no wound will be given to
her delicacy. Her father, without any impropriety,
may introduce her to your mother and
sister, as a friend; and I am sure he would not object
to do so if he knew how ardently I wish it.”

Edward conceived that it would be fruitless as well
as cruel to oppose this strange fancy of his uncle.
Besides he was secretly pleased with the opportunity
it afforded of soliciting Sir Francis to bring
his daughter to this part of the country. “To the
North,” said he to himself, “my thoughts every
day, every hour, every minute, direct themselves.
But, if Ellen were here, I should not think of the
North.”

The next day he rode into the city; and stated
simply to Sir Francis, his uncle's request, together
with its motives. Sir Francis made no hesitation
in soliciting his daughter and O'Halloran to visit
the metropolis, which they did in little more than
a week afterwards. In a few days, he drove them

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to Barrymount, on a visit to the old Earl's, with
whom he had of late became intimate.

Edward had received intelligence of the day on
which they were to arrive. How did his heart
beat with joyful impatience! He rose that morning
earlier than usual; for he could not sleep. The
day which he had thus rendered longer than ordinary,
appeared to him preternaturally so. Many
an anxious look he cast at his watch. “The deuce
take it, it will never be the afternoon,” thought he.
He was almost tempted to move the hands of the
watch forward; but he reflected that such a measure
would add no velocity to the wheels of Sir
Francis's coach. He then tried to read; but it
would not do. He then tried to walk, but it
was equally vain. He next had recourse to writing
a letter to Martin, but he dated it wrong;
took another sheet of paper, wrote “my dear Sir,”
twice; and, in the first line, instead of the word
“pleasure,” wrote “perplexity;” and, in the second,
for the words, “I learn you are still at home,” he
substituted, “I think she will surely soon come.”
He dashed the pen across the lines, execrated his
stupidity, and gave it up as an impracticable task.
He then threw himself on a sofa; and bravely determined,
since he could not get rid of his impatience,
to bear it like a man. He lay for about
five minutes quiet enough; and then looked around.
“Charlotte,” said he to his sister, who was present,
“Charlotte, my dear, what o'clock is it?”

“Why, Edward, you have asked me that question,
I believe, ten times since breakfast.”

“Is it two, my dear?”

“No, I believe it is scarcely one. But consult
your watch.”

“I have consulted it twenty times to-day; but I
cannot think it right. It goes very slow. Well, well,
if it were two, and it wants but an hour and twenty

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minutes of it, it would then be only three hours till
five.—But, Charlotte, wont you take a ride? I shall
order the chaise.”

“I shall go with you in an hour, Edward.”

In short they took their ride, met Sir Francis's
coach, returned in company with it to the Earl's;
and Edward's time for about ten days, the duration
of Ellen's visit, flew with the rapidity of a delicious
dream.

It is needless to say that the Earl was well pleased,
when he beheld the lovely mother of the future
Barrymores
.

“Upon my honour,” said he to Edward, the
evening after Ellen had left them, “you are a happy
young man. No wonder you spent so much
time in the North, where you discovered such a
beautious flower ripening into perfection. If Providence
would only spare me to behold your eldest
son, I think that there might yet be attractions for
me even in this world. But no, I must hasten to
your father and my brother, to my God, his God,
and your God.”

Accordingly in less than three weeks afterwards,
he resigned his spirit into the hands of him who
made it, and his earthly remains were deposited
amidst his kindred dust, along side of his brother.

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McHenry, James, 1785-1845 [1824], O'Halloran, or, The insurgent chief. An Irish historical tale of 1798, volume 2 (H. C. Carey & I. Lea, Philadelphia) [word count] [eaf270v2].
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