Emily’s Diary: April 22, 1913
IT IS ALL MOST unpleasant. Ever since Daddy’s return from Dublin there has been the most horrid atmosphere in the house. He has locked himself up in his observatory and works as a man possessed, growling like an angry dog at the least annoyance. Mummy has warned me not to disturb him. She need not fear—I have no intention of going near him until his mood has sweetened. Whatever it was that happened in Dublin, it has so soured the atmosphere that my Easter has been quite spoiled.
Well, maybe not completely. Oh, this sounds foolish, this sounds like whimsy, but last night I looked out of my bedroom window and saw lights up on Ben Bulben, like the lights of many lanterns there on the slopes of the mountain, as if there were people dancing there by lantern light. When I was young, Mrs. O’Carolan told me that years ago, when a betrothal was announced, the people of the parish used to celebrate it by dancing in a ring around the Bridestone and the man and the woman would plight their troth by joining hands through the hole in the middle of the stone. Could what I saw have been a faery wedding? Could noble lords and ladies and moon–silver stallions have stood around to watch by faery light as the King of the Morning and the Queen of the Daybreak joined hands through the ancient troth stone? How wonderful, how romantic! As I leaned out to watch, I imagined I could hear the whinnying of those faery horses, and the playing of the elfin harpers and the gay laughter of the Host of the Air. I do believe that there are strange and magical things in Bridestone Wood! Real magic, magic of stone and sky and sea, the magic of the Old Folk, the Good Folk who dwell in the Halls Beneath the Hills, a magic we see, and feel, and touch… but just for a moment, and then it is gone again. How easily such things are lost! How easily the cold light of day dissolves away the magic of the night, like mist. This will be my last night in Craigdarragh; tomorrow I must return again to Cross and Passion. Though I love the other girls, even now I am counting the hours until I am home again in the greenwoods of Craigdarragh, under the wise shadow of ancient Ben Bulben, where the faery folk will be waiting for me.
April 26, 1913
Craigdarragh
Drumcliffe
County Sligo
My Dear Lord Fitzgerald,
I am deeply, deeply grateful for your letter of the twenty–fourth inst. in which Your Lordship pledged support for my project to communicate with the transtellar vehicle from Altair. I am glad that Your Lordship was spared the embarrassment of my humiliation before the Society: Christians to the lions, my dear Clarenorris, were none such as I in that lecture theatre. Yet, like those early martyrs, my faith is undiminished, my zeal for the successful persuance of Project Pharos is greater than ever: we shall teach these arrogant whippersnappers a thing or two when the star folk come! And I am delighted, no less honoured, to hear that Your Lordship has submitted a letter of support for my propositions to Sir Greville Adams, though I regret that, for all Your Lordship’s cogent argument, it will achieve little: the gentlemen of Dublin are stunted in mind—intellectual dwarves compared to we revolutionary thinkers of the West.
Now ensured of support, we may proceed apace with Project Pharos. Enclosed are blueprints for the signalling device. Nevertheless, I will here summarise in my own hand the principles of said device, lest my enthusiasm in draughting the designs has rendered my diagrams a trifle hard to comprehend.
The device takes the form of a cross of floating pontoons supporting electrically powered lanterns. The cross must necessarily be of immense size: I have estimated that to be visible from the perigee position, the arms will have to be five miles in diameter. This of course necessitates the use of the pontoons. An artifact of such dimensions could never be constructed on land, but on sea it is a relatively simple task to construct on such a scale, and possesses the additional benefit of the signal being clearly distinguishable from the humbler lamps of civilization, namely, Sligo town. Electrical supply for the pontoons can be cheaply provided by my brother-in-law, Mr. Michael Barry, of the Sligo, Leitrim, Fermanagh, and South Donegal Electrical Supply Company. How useful it is to have relations in positions of influence!
Here, Your Lordship, I must beg leave to conclude. I once again thank you for your kind patronage of this experiment, which will surely be regarded by history as one of the epochal events of the millennium. I will keep Your Lordship closely informed of further developments, particularly with regard to the blueprints, which are in the hands of Gilbey, Johnson, and O’Brien, Architects, of Sligo town; and also of my efforts to compile a code with which to signal the presence of guiding intelligence to the Altairii, as I have termed our extrasolar visitors. Finally, I would wish God’s richest blessing upon yourself and all at Clarecourt, especially the Lady Alexandra, who is never far from our affections here at Craigdarragh.
I remain,
Your Humble Servant,
Edward Garret Desmond, Ph.D.