| Author: | Robert Machray | ISBN: | 1230001008753 |
| Publisher: | T.M. Digital Publishing | Publication: | March 26, 2016 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Robert Machray |
| ISBN: | 1230001008753 |
| Publisher: | T.M. Digital Publishing |
| Publication: | March 26, 2016 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
And the story which I have to tell is the story of such an one.
It was my lot, for so had Destiny cast out from her urn the shell on which my name was marked, that I, Ruari Macdonald, of the Clandonald, of the family of the Lords of the Isles, both of the Outer and the Inner Seas, having been unnaturally deprived of my home and lands in Isla, should have been saved to become the servant of that extraordinary woman called, in the tongue of the English, Grace O’Malley.
It is also not unusual for her to be spoken of by them as the “Pirate Princess,” and the “Pirate Chieftainess of Galway,” and there have been some who have described her as a “notable traitress,” and a “nursing mother of rebels.” But to us Celts, and to me in particular, her name can never be uttered in our own liquid speech without something of the same feeling being stirred within us as when we listen to the sounds of soft music—so sweet and dear a name it is.
It is true, perhaps, that its sweetness has rather grown upon me with advancing years. Be sure, however, there was a time when her name uplifted my heart and made strong my arm more than the clamour of trumpets and all the mad delight of war. But it seems far off and long ago, a thing of shadows and not more real than they. And yet I have only to sit still, and close my eyes for a space, and, lo, the door of the past swings open, and I stand once more in the Hall of Memories Unforgotten.
Now that the fingers of time fasten themselves upon me so that I shake them off but with fainting and difficulty, and then only to find them presently the more firmly fixed, I think it well before my days are done to set forth in such manner as I can what I know of this great woman.
And the story which I have to tell is the story of such an one.
It was my lot, for so had Destiny cast out from her urn the shell on which my name was marked, that I, Ruari Macdonald, of the Clandonald, of the family of the Lords of the Isles, both of the Outer and the Inner Seas, having been unnaturally deprived of my home and lands in Isla, should have been saved to become the servant of that extraordinary woman called, in the tongue of the English, Grace O’Malley.
It is also not unusual for her to be spoken of by them as the “Pirate Princess,” and the “Pirate Chieftainess of Galway,” and there have been some who have described her as a “notable traitress,” and a “nursing mother of rebels.” But to us Celts, and to me in particular, her name can never be uttered in our own liquid speech without something of the same feeling being stirred within us as when we listen to the sounds of soft music—so sweet and dear a name it is.
It is true, perhaps, that its sweetness has rather grown upon me with advancing years. Be sure, however, there was a time when her name uplifted my heart and made strong my arm more than the clamour of trumpets and all the mad delight of war. But it seems far off and long ago, a thing of shadows and not more real than they. And yet I have only to sit still, and close my eyes for a space, and, lo, the door of the past swings open, and I stand once more in the Hall of Memories Unforgotten.
Now that the fingers of time fasten themselves upon me so that I shake them off but with fainting and difficulty, and then only to find them presently the more firmly fixed, I think it well before my days are done to set forth in such manner as I can what I know of this great woman.
