to assemble at ten o'clock, in high regalia and paraphernalia, gowns, wigs, hoods, maces, and other outward signs of wisdom and jurisprudence; and after proceeding in antique form and magisterial dignity, with music, banners, streamers, &c. caused to be recognized their jurisdiction over the slabs, fens, moors, marches, estuaries, brickeries, fisheries, flukeries, cockleries, dabsands, flounderbanks, and periwinkle beds, in and out of the river Luvius, hodie, Lee, and all the bays, gulfs, creeks, channels, inlets, and outlets, thereunto belonging or appertaining, and then feast as becometh, in the great hall of the corporation. And all those abroad or beyond the seas, or otherwise prevented from a due obedience to this proclamation, are, on pain of disfranchisement, to send their attested letters of incapacity, as of old established. "Done in full council at the Council-hall, this twelfth day of July, in the year of safety, 1814, and of the corporation, 5819. "TIMOTHY BRUSNEHAUNE, "Town-Clerk." "Stuff,-nonsense,-Tom-foolery," muttered the banker; ""I now see what it's all about. And there, there's more of it; firing-bang-bang-bang. I now see what it's all about." "And pray, Sir, what may it be?" inquired the cornet. "Tom-foolery-Tom-foolery-all damned Tomfoolery. Why its a burlesque on the ancient corporation of this city, chartered tempore Henrici Secundithat's what it is, young Butler. A most disrespectful piece of Tom-foolery; and to be practised, too, under the very nose of a magistrate like myself, when they knew I could see all their absurd movements.” "With your new telescope, pa!" said Mary. "The fact is, young Butler, my boy, as you very well know, the corporation of Cork have, time out of mind, always celebrated the first of August by proceeding down the river in solemn assembly, the mayor being admiral of the harbour, and thereunto appointed by various charters. It's an ancient custom, you know, and ought not to be ridiculed by a parcel of play-acting, song-writing, punch-bibbing buffoons. I am a magistrate, and am determined to uphold, by every legal means in my power, the dignity of the corporation of our city." Here the magisterial harangue was interrupted by the announcement of Captain Dixon. "Captain Dixon," said Mr. Oldenham, "your advice and assistance, at this juncture, will be of the utmost importance to me. I am about to act in my official capacity. An insult of the grossest nature is being offered to the corporation of the city of Cork, by a pack of ruffianly, peace-breaking blackguardsarmed, Sir-armed, and protected by cannon. Do you hear, Sir? bang-bang-bang-there they go again. Look through this telescope, Sir, and see it with your own eyes. "It is not necessary, Mr. Oldenham," said Captain Dixon, observing the direction in which the telescope was pointed, "I have but just left the river, having come up in my barge from Cove; and I think you cannot do better, if you anticipate any thing serious, than to accompany me. My boat is just under the house, and I have half a dozen smart hands, who will pull us along side of them in capital man-of-war style. As for their pop-guns, my lads wont care for such things, I promise you." Mr. Oldenham readily assented, and Pierce expressing a wish to be included in the party, they descended to the shore, and embarked without loss of time. CHAPTER VII. BALLINTEMPLE CORPORATION. (Continued.) 'If a plain elephant may speak his mind, Remonstratory Ode, by the Round let us bound, for this is Punch's holiday, Rejected Addresses. It was a glorious August morning; gun after gun reverberated in quick succession along the shores of the Lee, as the merry corporation of Ballintemple sallied forth, each member equipped in costume appropriate to his dignity. Croker Barrington, arrayed in robes of Tyrian hue, headed the august procession, mace in hand, manufactured by the renowned George Keybourn of South Main Street. The mace-bearer was followed by a motley train of burgesses, some with helm on head and battle-axe on shoulder, others with Spanish cloak, and waving plume-others again. in full court dress, with lace ruffles and sword--others in the ponderous boots, square bottomed coat, threecornered hat, and well curled periwig of former days -here an hussar, with a prodigious display of whiskers -there a jolly tar, with blue jacket, long cue, and loose trowsers. In short, the whole wardrobe and properties of the Apollo Society had been put into requisition. The burgesses were followed by little George Gob let, the mayor, a highly respectable personage, whose statue did not materially exceed four feet and a half; yet there was an air of conscious loftiness in every step and look, as the diminutive mayor strutted with all the pride of a bantam, surrounded by sergeants-at-arms, ushers of the black rod, and various other officers of state. And next in order, an imp of sallow hue, and wrinkled visage, clad in well worn robes of rusty black, with ponderous wig, descending in ample curls, as may be judged, when it is stated that it once adorned the head and shoulders of his Utopian majesty, Artaxominous. The procession was closed by a numerous body of common-council men; while the sheriffs, with their cocked hats, white wands, and massive chains, from which depended well gilt gingerbread medals, struck in honour of the occasion, at the mint of Mr. Confectioner Boland, brought up the rear. It may well be supposed that such a procession as we have described, attended by the hands of two of the regiments quartered in Cork, and whose movements were announced by salutes from the batteries of Blackrock Castle, and Croker Barrington's Folly, could not move unattended by spectators to the King's Quay, their place of embarkation; and it may safely be asserted that every cabin of Ballintemple and Dundaniel sent forth its inmates to gaze upon so gallant a show, and to increase its triumphs, by acclamations loud and long. "Oh, yea," said old Moll Scannell, who had lived in the castle of Blackrock for the last forty years. Oh, yea, and 'tis that little bit of a man, Georgy Goblet, that they calls the mayor, my dear. Wisha then, 'tis quare times, and there's Croker Barrington out before them, with the lump of a great tin ladle in his hand, and sure 'tis easy knowing why he was so 'cute upon 66 the poor boys mending the road, my dear, yesterday, to have it all clean out of hand this morning, early, and wouldn't give them time to eat their bit of victualsGod help the creatures! And there's big Dinny--oh, yea-and Misther Jameison, Misther Magrah, with the sword in his hand, and Harry Bennett, good luck to him any how, 'twas last Sunday he threw me a tinpenny --and Mr. Kearns, long life and an easy death to him -and Lauveen Hobbs, God help us!-the poor lone widow--and there's that great unnatural beast in the big mud boat there, that they calls an elegant, and that has a snout as long as pig's body, wagging this way and that way, and 'tis riding upon it, they are going to put Tom Barret, the piper-well 'tis an easy seat I wish Tom, any how-and there's Toleken and Aikenhead, with the yallow boots, and Millikin-and oh, there's clearly all Cork there, barring Sir Davy himself; but sure 'tis easy to know why he's not there, seeing 'tis jealous he is of little Georgy Goblet. Hoh! there's another shot." Such was the widow Scannell's soliloquy on beholding the gaudy corporation embark, under another salute from the batteries, and a heart-stirring roar of delight from the crowd assembled on the shore. "By the powers, Dick Millikin-I'll be drowned if you don't put your stern into the bow of the boat, and bring her by the head," roared the mayor, as the crowded skiff, in which his worship occupied the post of honour, was rowed towards the state barge of the corporation. 66 Right worshipful," replied Millikin, "you have heard of Bryan O'Lynn, with his wife and wife's mother, Why, Goblet, my old boy, there's not six feet water between the shore and Andy Hennessy's mud barge.” |