= 00
:CO
THE
SCENERY AND ANTIQUITIES
OF
IRELAND,
ILLUSTRATED FROM
DRAWINGS BY W. H. BARTLETT;
THE LITERARY PORTION OP THE WORK
BY
N. P. WILLIS, AND J. STIRLING COYNE, ESQRS.
" Erin mavourneen .'"
Where is thy land ? " 'Tis where the woods are waving, In their dark richness to the summer air ;
Where the blue streams, a thousand flower-banks laving, Lead down the hills in veins of light, — 'tis there."
VOL. I.
LONDON :— GEORGE VIRTUE.
LONDON :
JOSEPH RICKERDV, PRINTEE, S11ER120UUN LANE.
W73 v.i
631070
*.
PREFACE.
" As the soil is, so the heart of man," says Lord Byron. It is, indeed, remarkable how closely the character and disposition of a people will be found to assimilate to the natural features of the clime they inhabit, and how deeply the human mind is tinctured by the bright or gloomy scenes upon which it is accustomed to dwell. Pursuing this fanciful theory, we imagine we can trace in the chequered character of the Irish people a reflection of the varied aspect of the country. Their exuberant gaiety, their deep sadness, their warm affections, their fierce resentment, their smiles and tears, their love and hatred, all remind us forcibly of the light and shadows of their landscapes ; where frowning precipices and quiet glens, wild torrents and tranquil streams, lakes and Avoods, vales and mountains, sea and shore, are all blended by the hand of Nature be- neath a sky, now smiling in sunshine, now saddening in tears.
The object of the Publisher has been to transfer to the pages of these volumes the most interesting and remarkable gems of Irish Scenery, and to present to his subscribers a series of Pen and Pencil Illustrations of the charms of the Green Isle of the West. But while the artist and authors have been seeking by lake and mountain the wild and beautiful in Nature, they have not overlooked the time-honoured memorials of Art, which lie scattered so plentifully through the country. The desolate castles and fortalices, moss-grown and hoar with age ; the mouldering relics of ecclesiastical greatness ; the green raths and mounds, with their
IV PREFACE.
old legends and fairy traditions ; the solemn and mysterious monuments of Pagan superstition ; in short, nothing has been omitted that was likely to awaken interest or excite attention, and that could consistently with the design of the work be brought within its limits.
The Engravings have in every instance been taken from Drawings made on the spots they illustrate, by MR. BARTLETT, whose pencil has already attained a high reputation, by his graceful and truthful delineations of the scenery of America, Switzerland, Scotland, the Bosphorous, &c.
The literary department has been confided to Mr. N. P. WILLIS and Mr. J. S. COYNE. The first-named gentleman has contributed a por- tion of the letter-press which describes the scenery of the north of Ireland, part of Connemara, the river Shannon, Limerick, and Water- ford. The latter writer has contributed the entire volume illustrating the scenery of Cork and Kerry, the far-famed lakes of Killarney, Glengariff, Bantry Bay, the southern and western coasts of the island as far north as Galway Bay, Dublin and its vicinity, and the picturesque beauties of the county of Wicklovv.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
CHAP. I. Embark from Port Patrick — Douaghadee — Carrickfcrgus — An Irish Jaunting-Car — Holly- •Cave Hill — BELFAST — Fondness of the Irish for Dancing and Music — The Irish Harp
Piurv
•ood — Cave Hill — BELFAST — Fondness of the Irish for Dancing and Music — The Irish Harp Society — An Irish Harper— A Peasant's Cabin — Droghcda — The Battle of the Boyne . . 1— 20
CHAP. II. Drogheda — MALAIIIDE CASTLE — Miraculous Image of the Blessed Virgin — BOSS-TREVOR
— Character of the Irish Peasantry — MONUMENT OF GENERAL Ross — CASTLE OF NARROW WATER 20— 2(!
CHAP. III. View of BELFAST LOUGH from Cave Hill — CASTLE OF CARRICKFERGUS — lloacl from Cave Hill to Larne — L.UINE — Ruins of the Castle of Olderflcet — Curraiin, where Edward Bruce landed — Island Magee — Cromlech and Rocking-Stonc ...... 27 — .'il
CHAP. IV. Beauty of the Coast between Larne and Glcnarm — Village and Castle of Glenarm — Monastery of Glcnarm — Its ancient History — Anecdote of an Abbot — GLENARM BAY — VALE OF GLENARIFF— Inn of Cushcndall — Promontory of FAIR HEAD ..... 2C— 37
CHAP. V. The Grey Man's Path— Accidents on the Cliffs — Ballyoastle — Discovery of an ancient Colliery — CASTLE OF KEXBAXF — CARRICK-A.REDE — Danger in approaching this insulated Rock — CASTLE OF DUNSEVEHICK — Rathlin Island ....... 37 — 4;l
CHAP. VI. First View of THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY — Strange phenomenon on Portrush Point —
PLEASKIN CLIFF — CAVE OF DUNKERRY ........ 43— 48
CHAP. VII. Breakfast at Bushmills — DUM.UCE CASTI.E — The Banshee Housemaids — Perilous
Pathway to the Ruins — Ancient Traditions of the Castle — Extraordinary Boat Race . . 48 — 53
CHAP. VIII. Dunluee to Coleraine and Limavady — Londonderry, its situation and appearance — Siege of Dcrry — CLOSING THE GATES UY THE APPRENTICE BOYS — The Town Walls and WAL- KER'S PILLAR — Road from Dcrry to Eniiiskillcu — DEVENISH ISLAND — The Irish Funeral Cry — Lough Erne — Monastic and Antiquarian Relics on Dcvenish Island — Round Tower . . 53 — 02
CHAP. IX. BALLYSHANNOX— SLIOO ABHF.Y and Town— HAZI.E WOOD AND LOUGH GILL— BALLINA — Salmon Fishing on the Moy — ROSERK ABBEY — THE ABBEY OF MOYNE — Killala Bay — Land- ing of the French in 1798, and occupation of the Town ......
CHAP. X. LOUGII CONN and MOUNT NF.PHIN — PONTOON BRIDGE — Castlebar — WESTPOIIT — CLEW- BAY — Clare Island, and the Ruins of Gruna Uailc's Castle — Traditions respecting her — Killcry Harbour — The Joyce Country, and "big Jack Joyce" — LEENANE — Lord Sligo's LODGE AT DELPHI ..... . . 72 — .So
CHAP. XI. Conncmara, its wild grandeur — The Lake of Kylcmorc — Harbour of Clifden — The Cas- tle—Character of the Connemara People — Ballinahineh Castle — Remarkable Mountains — THE TWELVE PINS of Binabola — A PATTERN IN CONNEMARA ...... 81 — So
CHAP. XII. GARROMIN LAKE — Flynn's Inn — St. Patrick's Well, a famous place of Pilgrimage — Life of St. Patrick . . . .....
CHAP. XIII. Approach to Gahvay— Spanish Aspect of the People and the Town— A STREET IN GALWAY — Story of Lynch Fitzstephen, the Warden of Gahvay— VIEW OF GALWAY FROM THE CLADDAH— Singular Character of the Claddah people — CLARE GALWAY ABBEY . . 95—100
CHAP. XIV. The Shannon — CI.ONMACNOISE, Ruins of the Seven Churches there — DOORWAY OF M'DERMOT'S CHURCH, and antique STONE CROSS — The Shannon, from Portuma to Castle Con- nell— THE RAPIDS OF DOON ASS— View of LIMERICK AND THE SHANNON FROM THE CATHE- DRAL TOWER — The Cathedral Bells — CASTLE OF KING JOHN — Description of the Town — Thomond Bridge, BAAL'S BRIDGE, and WELLESLEY BRIDGE — Course of the Shannon . . 101 — 112
CHAP. XV. The Shannon near Tarbert — Scattery Island — Kilkce, a favourite Watcring-Place— Singular Scene on the Shore— Primitive Fishing Canoe— An Irish Cabin— The PUFFING-ROCK — Caves of Ballybunnian — Volcanic appearance of the Cliffs — Ancient Baths at Kilkee — Fairy Superstitions — • Witchcraft in Ireland ....... - 112 — 138
CHAP. XVI. The ROCK OF CASHEL— Ecclesiastical Ruins thereon — Noble View from the summit of the Ruins— Legend of the Foundation of Cashel — The Cathedral— KING CORMAC'S CHAPEL — Hore Abbey— Racket's Abbey— Romantic Irish Legend of Daireen and Fithir — ABBEY OF HOLY CROSS — View on entering Kilkenny— The CASTLE OF KILKENNY — The CATHEDRAL OF ST. CANICE— Its Antiquarian Relics — St. John's and the Black Abbey— The Lady Alice Kettell, the reputed Witch— JERPOINT ABBEY, a splendid architectural Ruin . 138—159
CHAP. XVII. WATERFORD — The Wooden Bridge over the Suir— LISMOHE CASTLE, once the pro- perty of Sir Walter Raleigh— The BLACKWATER BELOW DROMANA — Beauty of this River — bromana and the Lords of Desmond— Town of Lismore ...... 160—170
])(•! 1)1
DIRECTIONS FOR THE BINDER.
ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I.
To face Pfigt
PORTRAIT or Mn. WILLIS ta prcce de the Vig- nette, (PlIOUL A PllUCA.)
MAP OF IltELAND 1
C.VRR1CKFERGUS CASTLE 2
BELFAST LOUGH 5
INTERIOR OF A ROOM AT MALAHIDE CASTLE . 23
ROSSTREVOR PIER 24
MONUMENT OF GENERAL Ro?s,RossTREVOR . 25
NARROW-WATER CASTLE 26
LARNE 29
GLENARM 32
GLENARIFF, COUNTY ANTRIM* . . .35
FAIRHEAD 36
KENBANE CASTLE 39
CARRICK-A-REDE 40
DUNSEVERICK CASTLE 41
THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY (FROM ABOVE) . 43
SCENE ON THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY . . 45
PI.AISKIN CLIFF, NEAR THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY 46
DCNKERRY CAVE 47
DCSLUCE CASTLE 48
LONDONDERRY 53
WALKER'S PILLAR, WALLS OF LONDONDERRY 58
DEVENISH ISLAND 59
BALLYSHANNON ... . . 62
ABBEY OF SLIGO 63
HAZLEWOOD AND LOUGH GILL . . .64
BALLINA 65
ROSERK ABBEY 66
ABBEY OF MOYNE 67
LOUOH CONN AND MOUNT NEPMIN . . 72
PONTOON BRIDGE AND LOUGH CONN . . 73 CLEW BAY, FROM WESTPORT . . . .74
To feet Page DELPHI LODGE, CONNEMAHA . . .79
LEENANE, CONNEMARA 80
EAGLE MOUNTAIN, KILLERIES . . .81 A PATTERN IN CONNEMARA .... 83
GARROMIN LAKE 85
A STREET IN GALWAY 95
GALWAY FROM THE CLADDAGH . . .99 ABBEY OF CLARE-GALWAY .... 100 THE SEVEN CHURCHES, CLONMACNOISE . 101 ENTRANCE DOORWAY OF TEMPLE M'DERMOTT 103 ANCIENT CROSS, CLONMACNOISE . . . 104 DOONASS RAPIDS, NEAR CASTLE CONNELL . 105 THE SHANNON, FROM THE TOWER OF LIME- RICK CATHEDRAL 106
CASTLE OF LIMERICK 107
OLD BAAL'S BRIDGE, LIMERICK . . . 108 WELLESLEY BRIDGE, LIMERICK . . . 109 PUFFING-HOLE NEAR KlLKEE . . . 120 APPROACH TO CASHEL FROM THE NORTH . 138
ROCK OF CASHEL 139
RUINS AT CASHEL 140
CORMAC'S CHAPEL, CAEIIEL .... 141 INTERIOR OF CASHEL ABBEY . . . 142
HOLY CROSS ABBEY 149
INTERIOR OF HOLY CROSS ABBEY . . . 150
KILKENNY CASTLE 151
ST. CANICE, KILKENNY 163
JERPOINT ABBEY 168
THE QUAY, WATERFORD, AND REGINALD'S
TOWER 161
LISMORE CASTLE .«• 162
THE VALLEY OF THE BLACKWATEK . 163
• This Plate has been inadvertently written by the Engraver " GlenffarinV instead of " Glenariff county Atttrim," and the miiuke escaped notice until it had pasted through many of the early impressions -.—the reader will observe that the proper plate to place opposite to page 35, u that which represents, on the right-hand side of the engraving, the natural passage through the rock at Red Bay.
THE p
With i
SCENERY O
colly, a Ions; her ns tercet-
:tll p<->liliral and relitri' that m-ium*. I should
lumtii m\ law vvwtwani, ;.*'. "• ;!< ' -|'l'i nu > iinii-on ;i-t ..-, ai
tin followed tho example i st « •' k, suid etJibarkcd .
narrowest point of the Channel for Ireland i'mlnck was named, they
B
SCENERY OF IRELAND.
i.
THE prominent association with the name of Ireland, to one not daily conversant with English newspapers, is that of a prolific mother of orators, soldiers, patriots, and poets. Out of sight of the froth that is thrown up from the active cauldron of her political evils, and out of hearing of the squabble and fret, the jibe and jeer, the querulous complaint, and the growling reply which form the perpetual and most marked under-tone of English news, the inhabitant of other countries looks at the small space Ireland occupies on the map, — a little isle on the westernmost extremity of Europe — and counts her great names, and reads her melancholy, but large and brilliant page in history, with wonder and admiration. Whatever horrors the close-seen features of her abortive revolutions may present, and what- ever littleness may belong to the smaller machinery of her political intrigues, con spiracies and the like, the distant eye reads, in the prominent lines of the picture, an undying love of liberty, and an untamed and restless energy of genius and cha- racter. To America particularly Ireland is sympathetically, as well as geographi- cally, nearer than the other countries of Europe ; and receiving thence, as we do, a long-continued and steady influx of population, we look to the general tone of her national sentiment, and the preservation of her heroic character with the in- terests of kindred. In a work like this, however, of a pictorial character, and intended for circulation among all parties, the great questions at issue in Ireland can only be thus far adverted to; and, in recording my own observations while tra- velling in the country, I shall be excused, (from the evident necessity of omitting all political and religious inference or discussion,) if, with the superficial material that remains, I should seem to avoid topics of momentous and evident interest, and confine myself to those only which are entertaining or trifling.
I turned my face westward, after the " splendid failure " at Eglinton Castle, and on the first of September followed the example cf St. Patrick, and embarked at the narrowest point of the Channel for Ireland. Port Patrick was named, they
SCENERY OF IRELAND.
say, after the saint; who, besides being subject, like the uncanonized, to sea-sick- ness, evidently knew enough of geography to decide what point of Scotland was nearest to the opposite shore. It is consolatory to possess a weakness in common with great men; and in taking a preventative glass of brandy-and-water, and going regularly into my berth for a two-hours' passage, I was pleased to remember a fellow-weakness, not only in St. Patrick, but in the " Queen's Earl" of Des- mond, who, in writing to Queen Elizabeth after his arrival in Ireland, to take pos- session of his father's forfeited titles, says, " I was so sea-sick as, whilst 1 live, 1 shall never love that element, and I besought them to land me anywhere."
We ran into the pretty harbour of Donaghadee, after a two-hours' passage, and I was a little surprised to find every thing very neat and Scotch-looking — the street clean, the inn tidy and thrifty, and not a beggar to welcome us to Ireland. The piers are of a very white granite ; (the harbour, I believe, was the design of Sir John Rennie;) and with a couple of towers, used as powder-magazines, and crown- ing a very abrupt mound, the port has an air both picturesque and nourishing.
There were four of us to go on to Belfast; and the landlady, a very stout and smiling person, came out of doors, and separated our baggage from that of the mail passengers, ordered a car out for our approval, and settled the quo modo of our conveyance with a good-natured energy that amused me. As the ride to Belfast was to be my novitiate in car-travelling, I looked at the machine, which a man drew out with one hand, with some interest. An Irish car has been often de- scribed, and most people know that it is the smallest possible quantity of wood, iron, and contrivance that will carry five people. The driver's seat is generally a tight fit, and the horse's tail and haunches answer for his foot-board ; but he has the advantage of riding face foremost. The passengers sit dos-a-dos, two on a side, and their legs are delivered over to the care of Providence ; the small shelf, which hangs outside the wheel for their support, offering no security against damage by collision with mile-stones or passing vehicles. As the shafts are raised, the car tilts backward ; so that you sit sideways upon a declivity, which, with the excessive motion of the car, keeps the upper passenger continually sliding down upon his neighbour. A narrow trough between the backs of the seats carries a common-sized portmanteau comfortably, and with this you have all the capa- bilities of the Irish car.
Our baggage followed us in a sort of decapitated hackney-coach, which I was told was an " inside car," and we made our exit from the neat town of Donaghadee at a pace that, if we could contrive to hold on to our seats, promised to bring us early to Belfast. I should suppose a gentleman sitting in a loose chair on the top of an American stage-coach would feel something the security of a passenger on an " outride car" My neighbour nearest the horse chanced to be an American
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 3
lady, as new to "jaunting" as myself, and never having been instructed as to whether the top or the bottom of the inclined plane we occupied was the place of honour, I sat alternately above and below, and left Ireland, I am sorry to say, with this point of etiquette unresolved. It is a choice between the roles of cushion and fender.
The driver was very talkative, and assured us that up-hill or down-hill was all one to his horse, and he would take us to Belfast without drawing breath. When he did come nearly to a stand-still at the foot of a slight rise in the road, we reminded Pat of his brag at starting. " I think he likes to walk just here a bit, your honour ; — it's a thrick he's got coming the road so often!" — was the answer, made with a gravity that defied unbelief. The black mare in the other car was his chief topic, however, and for her " the mistAress had refused man«y a time a hunder guineas." To the imminent hazard of our legs, the other driver, who seemed quite aware of the subject of his friend's eloquence, kept up a continual show-off, by passing us at a hard gallop and pulling up to pass us again, and between whipping and a violent string-halt, the black mare certainly proved a beast of very high action.
It was market-day at Belfast, and the streets were thronged with the country-peo- ple, the most inactive crowd of human beings, it struck me, that I had ever seen. The women were all crouching under their grey cloaks, or squatting upon the thills of the potato-carts, or upon steps or curb-stones ; and the men were leaning where there was any thing to lean against, or dragging their feet heavily after them, in a listless lounge along the pavement. It was difficult to remember that this was the most energetic and mercurial population in the world ; yet a second thought tells one that there is an analogy in this to the habits of the most powerful of the animal creation — the lion and the leopard, when not excited, taking their ease like the Irishman.
I had thought, among a people so imaginative as the Irish, to have seen some touch of fancy in dress — if ever so poor — a bit of ribbon on the women's caps, or a jaunty cock of the " boy's" tile, or his jacket or coat worn shapely and with an air. But dirty cloaks, ribbonless caps, uncombed hair, and not even a little straw taken from the cart and put under them when they sat on the dirty side-walk, were universal symptoms that left no room for belief in the existence of any vanity whatsoever in the women ; many of them of an age, too, when such fancies are supposed to be universal to the sex. The men could scarce be less ornamental in their exteriors ; but the dirty, sugar-loaf hat, with a shapeless rim, and a twine around it to hold a pipe ; the coat thrown over the shoulders, with the sleeves hanging behind ; the shoes mended by a wisp of straw stuffed into the holes, and their faces and bare breasts nearly as dirty as their feet, were alike the uniform of
4 SCENERY OP IRELAND.
old and young. Still those who were not bargaining were laughing, and even in our flourishin"- canter through the market, I had time to make up my mind that if they had taken a farewell of vanity, they had not of fun.
Very nearly amputating the legs of a young lady who sat on an outside car, drawn up near the side-walk, Pat, cantering to the last, checked his horse at the door of the " Donegal! Arms." It was a handsome house in a broad and hand- some street; but I could not help pointing out to my companion the line of soiled polish at the height of a man's shoulder, on every wall and door-post within sight, showing, with the plainness of a high-water mark, the average height, as well as the prevailing habit of the people. We certainly have not yet found time to acquire ///(// polish in America, and if we must wait till the working classes find time to ten H, it will be a century or two at least before we can show as polished an hotel as the Donegall Arms at Belfast, or, (at that particular line above the side-walk,) as polished a city altogether.
Pat made us a very smiling and civil speech after he was paid, (not having learned his antecedents from an English grammar, apparently,) and, as we had breakfasted in Scotland at daylight, we ordered dinner in the next breath, though it was not far into the ''small hours" of afternoon. The landlord brought us a most tempting and voluminous bill of fare, among which were several French dishes, unexceptionably .ipelt. With a vague impression that I was about to take leave of luxuries, at least till my t <ur in Ireland was completed, and having full purveyor's authority from my friends, I took the carte at its word, and wrote off a dinner to which (on paper at least) I might have asked a Frenchman. Off frisked the waiter with an alacrity that promised well. We contrived to wile away an hour with dressing and looking out of the window; and, in consideration of an elaborate dinner, we relinquished the usual gratification of ringing the bell every five minutes to know if it was ready. As the second hour began rather heavily, I was taking a turn toward the kitchen-door, I cannot say entirely without some hope of a fragrant intimation of the soup, when the waiter met me in the passage.
" Is the lady very hungry, sir?" he asked, with the most eager appearance of a desire for information.
" Yes, indeed."
"Then, sir, I think you'd bettAer have mutton-chops; they'll be ready so much quicker."
The words were not out of his mouth before two covered dishes issued from the kitchen, and made their way to our parlour, paying, as they passed, a tribute to my nostrils, of most unequivocal mutton-chops and potatoes. I saw how it was. They had followed a leetle too soon for my friend's diplomacy ; but the French carte was done into Irish, and meant mutton-chops. The waiter would have let us down
V
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,' i v. 'li t1.'- >>!• ' ;i •, ond of the aftcrno >n," as ti well-dressed and well-mant.. tibnary"' f to the ulijccts cautious of . Irish d^fitui:". our^lves, ami Ir-urn tlMI- p
:fr ol us, with u poiiint, -:^i , a (ink*. Decliuing u ^uut'.' • u • (/(..iiite.! fc,.i!, itinl sti- ' j s, : ti«- dtb«r suburb of Jk>'e-t
coiui'on:. <•• Kx'kmg';. bat they In . » ^
could ii'.i . . :• ••^\f-t'. ^-,-nnnt !',{ li.
out project .'i- >H'\ -a the- ro«.t- ci- cvci
bouse bcin^ *-,\
SCENERY OF IRELAND.
easier if they had given him time. I was too much amused with the entire absence of any thing like discomfiture in his face to make any remonstrance, and we dined excellently well on chops and potatoes.
Our dinner, notwithstanding its long name on the bill of fare, having been despatched with the brevity of unornamented chops and potatoes, we had the " big end of the afternoon," as the waiter called it, to dispose of. The landlord (a very well-dressed and well-mannered person, by the way,) oifered us a "walking dic- tionary" to the objects of curiosity in the town; but the dinner had made us cautious of Irish definitions, and we preferred to find out the curiosities by ourselves, and learn their names afterwards.
One of the first things we stumbled on, at the end of a street of very tempting and brilliant shops, was an exhibition of pictures. "ADAM AND EVE WILL SHORTLY CLOSE," (so read the placard,) was certainly a very inviting announce- ment, and we were in haste to pay our money and get in. The exhibitor, to my sur- prise, called me by name, as he gave me my change, and reminded me of having visited his pictures at Boston, in the United States — a good memory that would have been a more serviceable talent to a politician, but not without its agreeableness anywhere. It is very pleasant to meet one who knows even your name in a strange land. Dubufe has painted " Adam and Eve" in the garden, and in another picture, " Adam and Eve" being driven forth from Paradise ; and very clever pictures they are. But it is curious to observe how particularly clean they are before they sinned, and how very dingy after. I presume the Frenchman has good authority for representing them as dirtied with their "fall," but one cannot help thinking what a moral thing it would be if sinners were known now-a-days by their complexions.
Taking leave of my friend, the exhibitor, who was about to "close" our first parents in Belfast, and "open" them in Dublin, we strolled down to the quay, and admired the Irish carts with solid wheels and a structure altogether very antique and primitive; read the advertisements, stuck on every wall, of vessels bound to "New York;" (we took a pleasure somehow in reading them quite through;) and having " done" that end of the town, returned towards the inn. The landlord was in search of us, with a permit, signed by himself as a subscriber, to visit the bota- nical gardens. Declining a guide again, we started on our discoveries in the direction he pointed out, and strolled through a succession of clean and spacious streets, to the other suburb of Belfast. The houses in this quarter were large and comfortable-looking; but they had a kind of noseless and flattened aspect, which I could not immediately account for. They are built, it afterwards struck me, with- out projections either at the roof or over doors or windows, the front wall of the house being an entirely plane surface, from basement to eaves. I found the same
c
g SCENERY OF IRELAND.
fashion in most of the towns of Ireland ; but it impressed me more in Belfast, first, perhaps, because the nakedness it gave to the expression of the houses accorded with the lonely desertion of the streets in this quarter of the town. I was told in Dublin, that builders were compelled by law to raise a certain height of front wall above the edge of the roof, to prevent danger from the sliding off of slates and tiles; a law which quite obviates Tom Pipes's objection to living on shore, though it is not very productive of the ornamental.
Just at the edge of the town, we were compelled to charge through a phalanx of car-drivers, whose obliging distress at seeing us on foot was expressed with a variety of eloquence that was worthy of a better theme. We persisted in thinking that the dirt was good enough "for the like of us," however, and walked them off their beat, taking with us a solemn assurance that the botanical garden, which they knew to be our destination, was " three miles off, and Irish miles into the bargain" — four English miles, that is to say, which we walked in the incredibly small space of five minutes ! Not content with this enterprising investment of eloquence and imagination, one of the drivers mounted his car, and gave us what I took to be a purely ostentatious display of the paces of his horse, driving backwards and forwards in every description of gait that could be got up by cries, kicks, whipping, chirupping, coaxing, and other persuasives. As the man never looked at us even for applause between his flourishes, I had no idea that it was meant for our eyes particularly, till, within forty yards of our destination, he suddenly drove up, and with a smile of the most winning sincerity, recommended us to take his car to the botanical garden. "Where is the botanical garden?" I asked of a little girl who stood listening, without any apparent surprise, to Pat's proposal. She pointed to the gate, a few steps farther on. " Tltin, sir," said the driver, (as little discon- certed as the waiter at the metamorphosis of my French dinner,) perhaps your honour 'd like me to wait for you going back!" My natural resentment at the imposition was entirely absorbed in admiration of the boldness, fertility of invention, readiness and perseverance displayed by this ragged character. What would not such qualities achieve, (and they are natural to the whole nation, I believe,; well regulated and directed into the proper channels ? With the same outlay of thought, ingenuity, and assurance, as was expended in this fruitless endeavour to procure a sixpenny fare, what return would an American expect? Certainly enough to buy the car and horse, with a long lease of the driver.
The botanical gardens are laid out with great taste, and beautifully kept. We enjoyed our sunset stroll through the long alleys extremely; and spite of a cautionary placard, and the keeper standing under the porch and looking on, I plucked a hearts-ease, as an expressive remembrance of my visit. As the keeper made no objection, either by word or look, I inferred that heart's-ease, though
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 7
planted among forbidden flowers, in Ireland, is at least not grudged to the stranger.
We strolled leisurely back to the inn, luxuriating in what reminded us more of our own country than of Great Britain — a clear and beautiful twilight. It seemed to me that it had rained without intermission for the three months since I landed in England, and I relished the sight of the blue sky. Fox's question to his Irish friend, " Is that shower over yet?" seemed a better joke to me before I left Ireland, but certainly I found sunshine of the very best quality at Belfast.
A bare-foot damsel, with very pink heels, was
" My grim chamberlain, Who lighted mo to bed ;''
and in some fear of oversleeping the hour for the coach in the morning, I reiterated, and "sealed with a silver token," my request to be waked at six. Fortunately for a person who possesses Sancho's " alacrity at sleep," the noise of a coach rattling- over the pavement woke me just in time to save my coffee and my place. I returned to my chamber the moment before mounting the coach for something I had forgotten, and as the clock was striking eiyld, the. faithful damsel knocked at my door and informed me that it was past six !
If the landlord's cleverness at a free translation of French did not entitle him to the character of " scholar," his manners and courtesy certainly gave him claims to that of " gentleman." He waited on us to the door with an abundance of smiles and good wishes, and a dish of cakes, which he insisted on the lady's taking (the cakes, not the smiles and wishes,) as provant for the road. As we were expected to dine with a brother Boniface at Newry, and a sack of cakes might endanger the appetite of an economical person on the road, our host's liberality must either be put down as an uncommon deficiency of esprit de corps, or a very great stretch of courtesy towards his guests. As we profited by the dilemma with both its horns, we may as well hang our belief on the latter.
We started off on King William's route to the battle of the Boyne, in a rain that would have damped the courage of Count Schomberg and his forty thousand men, more particularly if they had had my rheumatism. I had trusted to the sky as I had to the French carte and the chambermaid ; for a fairer promise of a bright morrow was never read in a sunset, and we had taken outside places to enjoy the scenery and the sunshine. I must record that one of the four gentlemen " insides," a stranger to us, offered the lady of our party his place — a politeness which, though a matter of course in America, is not thought at all necessary in old countries. The kindness was declined ; but it was pleasant to know that there are " bowels" in Irish " insides : " and this is but one among many points of
8 SCENERY OP IRELAND.
resemblance between our two countries, which I recorded in my travels in Ireland. I am afraid there is a stage of " high civilization," at which several of these little eccentric virtues are polished away, under the names of " humbug" and " officious- ness."
Our coach was well horsed for performance, and driven at ten miles in the hour; and when we had once absorbed the water from our cushionless seats, and arranged our umbrellas so as to give and receive drippings as advantageously as possible, we be«-an to enjoy the rapid motion and the County Down. There was something very "raceful, I thought, in the shape of the hills and the general outline of the country ; though, to my eye, the scantiness of wood was a great drawback to its beauty. The hills were entirely denuded, and not a single tree stood in the fields, or anywhere but in the immediate vicinity of gentlemen's seats, and even there the planting seemed to have been but recent. I should have said of the same landscape in America, that, within a very few years, it had been entirely burnt over, so complete was the nakedness, and such mere " brush" were the far-between plantations I speak of. The same impression lias been made upon me since, Inmost other parts of Ireland; though, in the southern counties, the very great number and extent of new plantations show an awakened attention to the subject, and promise soon to remedy the deficiency.
But what shall I say of the human habitations in this (so called) most thriving and best-conditioned quarter of Ireland ? If I had not seen every second face at a hovel-door with a smile on it, and heard laughing and begging in the same breath everywhere, I should think here were human beings abandoned by their Maker. Many of the dwellings I saw upon the road-side looked to me like the abodes of extinguished hope — forgotten instincts, — grovelling, despairing, nay, almost idiotic wretchedness. I did not know there were such sights in the world. I did not know that men and women, upright, and made in God's image, could live in styes, like swine, with swine, — sitting, lying down, cooking and eating in such filth as all brute animals, save the one " unclean," revolt from and avoid. The extraordinary part of it, too, is that it seems almost altogether the result of choice. I scarce saw one hovel, the mud-floor of which was not excavated several inches below the ground- level -without ; and, as there is no sill, or raised threshold, there is no bar, I will not say to the water, but to the liquid filth that oozes to its lower reservoir within. A few miles from Drogheda, I pointed out to my companions a woman sitting in a hovel at work, with the muddy water up to her ancles, and an enormous hog scratching himself against her knee. These disgusting animals were everywhere walking in and out of the hovels at pleasure, jostling aside the half-naked children, or wallowing in the wash, outside or in — the best-conditioned and most privileged inmates, indeed, of every habitation. All this, of course, is matter of choice, and
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 9
so is the offal-heap, situated in almost every instatice, directly before the door, and draining its putrid mass into the hollow, under the peasant's table. Yet mirth does live in these places — people do smile on you from these squalid abodes of wretched ness — the rose of health does show itself upon the cheeks of children, whose cradle is a dung-heap, and whose play-fellows are hogs ! And of the beings who live thus, courage, wit, and quenchless love of liberty are the undenied and universal characteristics. Truly, that mysterious law of nature by which corruption paints the rose and feeds the fragrant cup of the lily, is not without its similitude i Who shall say what is clean, when the back of the most loathsome of reptiles turns out, on examination, more beautiful than the butterfly ? Who shall say what extremes may not meet, when, amid the filth of an Irish hovel, spring, like flowers out of ordure, the graces of a prince in his palace?
The Irish cabin, repulsive as it is, is not unsung. One of the most beautiful women I saw in Ireland, sang for me, with an expression and humour perfectly delightful, the following amusing description, of which I begged a copy, regretting that I could not set down the music as well. It was admirably suited to the words, which I was told, clever as they are, had never found their way into print.
Oh weep for the day -,ve were forced from our cot, From our praties and milk and our stirabout pot ; When Judy kept every thing piping and hot,
So snug with the cat in the corner.
So snug, &c.
The pigs and the dogs, and the childer, agrath !
Lay down on the floor, so dacent in sthraw,
While the cocks and the hens, they were perch'd up ava,
Just over the cat in the corner.
Just over the cat, &c.
Our house was so tidily covered with thatch,
It looked like a harlequin's coat, patch for patch ,
And the door opened nately by rising the latch
With a fong that hung down in the corner.
With a fong, &c.
A scythe was stuck here, and a raping-hook there, And Paddy's shilelagh, the pride of the fair, Was placed in the chimney to sason with care,
Just over the cat in the corner.
Just over the cat, &c.
Our windows so clone, by an unlucky stroke, Had three of the purtiest panes in it broke : We fastened up two with the tail of a cloak,
And the smoke went through one in the corner.
And the smoke, &c.
JQ SCENERY OF IRELAND.
Our dresser was rficked out in tflegant style,
The trenchers and noggins your heart would beguile;
And the goose she was hatching her eggs all the while,
Right under them all in the corner !
Right under them all, &c.
Our haggard, my jewel, was not very great ; We'd a pure chi of oats and a t/mfle of whate : We fastened up all with a bit of a gate,
And a car in a gap in the corner.
And a car, &c.
Och ! Paddy's the boy, with a stick in his fist,
With a spur in his head, and a bone in his wrist,
And a straw round his hat — you must call a gold twist,
Or he'll murdtfter you all in the corner!
Or he'll murd<Aer you all, &c.
To pass suddenly from the bleak highway, and a row of Irish hovels into a gen- tleman's desmesne, following a road which, perhaps, for two or three miles runs through the woods of a highly preserved park, planted, walled, turfed, and laid out witli the most expensive care and taste, is, indeed, the change from the desert to the oasis, and one that, in its full force of contrast, can be felt only in Ireland. The surface of the country is so beautifully varied, the rivers are so swift and bright, and the vegetation is kept so green by the constant moisture, that wherever ornament of this kind is attempted, the spot becomes a paradise of natural charms. Ravensdale, which we passed on the road to Drogheda, is one of these.
As we drove into Drogheda we entered a crowd, which I can only describe as suggesting the idea of a miraculous advent of rags. It was market-day, and the streets were so thronged that you could scarce see the pavement, except under the feet of the horses ; and the public square was a sea of tatters. Here, and all over Ireland, I could but wonder where and how these rent and frittered habili- ments, had gone through the preparatory stages of wear and tear. There were no degrees — nothing above rags to be seen in coat or petticoat, waistcoat or breeches, cloak or shirt. Even the hats and shoes were in rags ; not a whole covering, even of the coarsest material, was to be detected on the thousand backs about us : no- thing shabby, nothing threadbare, nothing mended, except here and there a hole in a beggar's coat, stuffed with straw. Who can give me the genealogy of Irish rags ? Who took the gloss from these coats, once broadcloth? who wore them ? who tore them ? who sold them to the Jews ? (for, by the way, Irish rags are fine rags, sel- dom frieze or fustian.) How came the tatters of the entire world, in short, assem- bled in Ireland ? for if, as it would seem, they have all descended from the backs of gentlemen, the entire world must contribute to maintain the supply.
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 11
I had been rather surprised at the scarcity of beggars in Belfast ; but the beg- garry of Drogheda fully came up to the traveller's descriptions. They were of every possible variety. At the first turn the coach made in the town, we were very near running over a blind man, who knelt in the liquid mud of the gutter, (the calves of his legs quite covered by the pool, and only his heels appearing above,) and held up in his hands the naked and footless stumps of a boy's legs. The child sat in a wooden box, with his back against the man's breast, and eat away very uncon- cernedly at a loaf of bread, while the blind exhibitor turned his face up to the sky, and, waving the stumps slightly from side to side, kept up a vociferation for charity, that was heard above all the turmoil of the market-place. When we stopped to change horses, the entire population, as deep as they could stand, at least with any chance of being heard, held out their hands, and in every conceivable tone and mode of arresting the attention, implored charity. The sight was awful : old age, in shapes so hideous, I should think the most horrible nightmare never had con- ceived. The rain poured down upon their tangled and uncovered heads ; seam- ing, with its cleansing torrents, faces so hollow, so degraded in expression, and, withal, so clotted with filth and neglect, that they seemed like features of which the very owners had long lost, not only care, but consciousness and remembrance ; as if in the horrors of want and idiotcy, they had anticipated the corrupting apathy of the grave, and abandoned everything except the hunger which gnawed them into memory of existence. The feeble blows, and palsied fighting of these hag- like spectres for the pence thrown to them from the coach ; and the howling, harsh, and unnatural voices in which they imprecated curses on each other in the fury of the struggle, have left a remembrance in my mind, which deepens immeasurably my fancied nadir of human abandonment and degradation. God's image so blasted, so defiled, so sunk below the " beasts that perish," I would not have be- lieved was to be found in the same world with hope.
Yet strangely enough, these desperate beings, snarling and howling like dogs upon each other, tried, upon those from whom they begged, every shape of flattery ; and often with a wit, that, though it was like wit from a skeleton, showed still that the nearly extinguished mind had been quick and penetrating ; and that amid all this apathy and despair, there was a memory of the springs of human action. I thought I should be able to recal many quick witticisms I had heard at Drogheda and elsewhere ; but it is a kind of memory that floats away in the cloud of unimportant events, occurring in so busy a life as travel ; and I remember but one — and that more from the hideousness of the speaker, than the excellence of her wit. I thought I had given away all my pence, when this woman, quite the weakest looking and sickliest I had observed, caught my eye. Another dive into my pocket brought forth a sovereign, a shilling, and a penny. " I won't tArouble
SCENERY OF IRELAND.
you for the gowld," said she watching me as I turned over the pieces in my hand ; " I don't like the colour of it." I laid my finger on the penny : " Och ! that's too black intirely," she cried again ; " something batwane : now, there's a diliJcit white s-hilliu', the colour o'yer honor's hand, plazes me more !" I was amused with their efforts, often successful, to penetrate and remove, by some apposite suggestion, any hesitation in the giver's generosity. " I'll change it for yer honour, and divide it among 'em," said a cripple to a young man beside me, who had drawn sixpence from his pocket, and held it doubtfully in his hand. The sixpence was thrown into the beggar's hat, who had well foreseen that the giver would not have the courage to falsify a cre- ditable imputation before strangers. I am sorry to add, that the " division" was but a hVure of speech ; and the sixpence was clutched with a flourish of the crip- ple's crutch, which promised to show fight for the lion's share.
Drogheda fills an important page in history, and probably has been the scene of more bloodshed than any other town in Ireland. The adherents of the Stuarts occu- pied it* uarrison after the death of Charles I., and, as the loyalty of the Irish was, during the protectorate, the chief hope of the exiled heir to the throne, Cromwell saw the necessity of checking it by a decided movement. " He landed at Dublin on the 15th of August, 1650, with 8,000 foot and 4,000 horse ; a great quantity of ammunition and a splendid retinue. He remained a fortnight to recruit his forces, and then marched with 10,000 men to Drogheda, which was bravely defended by Sir Arthur Aston ; but at length surrendered, in consequence of a proclamation from Cromwell, that quarter should be shown to all who would lay down their arms. The saintly protector kept his word for two days ; at the expiration of which time, having disarmed all the garrison, he ordered the whole to be massacred in cold blood ; and this inhuman butchery was so faithfully executed by the wretches who obeyed him, that only thirty escaped with their lives, and those thirty were transported to Barbadoes."
The " Battle of the Boyne" is the chief historical feature of Drogheda, how- ever, and the ground I had travelled over since landing at Belfast, was the track of William's army on their way to this brilliant victory. I was very content not to have done it in the king's time, as he was six days marching from Belfast to Drogheda, a distance the coach does in about as many hours. He had the advantage of us in weather, however, for historians laud him for encountering the " dust" in reviewing the troops after his landing. It appears that William had a troublesome crown to wear; and previously to his Irish expedition, had contem- plated retiring to Holland, and relinquishing to his queen a sovereignty that was too vexatious for his impatient spirit. He changed his mind, however, and set sail to join his army under Count Schomberg, in June of 1630. The scene of the contest between the two monarchs, James and William, at the " Boyne Water," is
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 13
too interesting for the traveller to pass without refreshing his memory with the story. William landed at Carrickfergus, attended by Prince George of Den- mark, the young Duke of Ormond, the Earls of Oxford, Scarborough, and Man- chester, and other persons of distinction ; was met by Duke Schomberg, the Prince of Wirtemberg, Kirk, and other officers ; received an address from the northern clergy, presented by Walker, and published his proclamation for the suppressior. of rapine, violence, and injustice. His military genius prompted him, and the present distracted state of England, together with the formidable preparations of France obliged him to a vigorous prosecution of the war. From Belfast he ad- vanced to Lisburne and Hillsborough. Here he commenced the exercise of his civil authority, by an act highly acceptable to the inhabitants of the northern pro- vince. The teachers of dissenting congregations, which abounded in this province, had acted with zeal against the cause of popery and the late king. One of this order had the merit of first encouraging the populace to shut the gates of Derry. Several had patiently endured the hardships of the siege ; and in every part of Ulster these ministers had shared deeply in the distresses of war. William now issued his warrant, granting them an annual pension of twelve hundred pounds, to be paid by the collector of customs in the port of Belfast ; a pension afterwards inserted in the civil list, and made payable from the exchequer. His forces were ordered to take the field ; and when some cautious counsels were suggested by his officers, he rejected them with indignation. " I came not to Ireland," said he, " to let grass grow under my feet." At Loughbrickland, his whole army assem- bled from their different quarters, and were joined by the king and his train. Wil- liam ordered them to change their encampment, that he might review the regiments on their march to the new ground. The officers imagined, that on a tempestuous and dusty day, he would content himself with a general view from some conve- nient station ; but they saw him dart quickly into the throne, riding eagerly from place to place, examining every regiment distinctly and critically. His soldiers were thus pleased and animated ; every man considering himself as under the im- mediate inspection of his royal leader, who took his quarters in the camp, was the whole day on horseback, at the head of an advanced party, viewing the adjacent country ; reconnoitring, or directing the accommodations necessary for his sol- diers. When an order was presented to him to be signed for wine for his own table, he passionately exclaimed, that his men should be first provided. " Let them not want," said he, " I shall drink water." An army of thirty-six thousand men, thus animated, and excellently appointed, advanced southward, to decide the fate of Ireland ; while the fleet coasted slowly in view, to supply them with every necessary, and thus to increase their confidence.
Six days had elapsed from the time of William's landing, when James received
VOL. I. E
14 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
the first intelligence that a prince, who, he confidently believed must be detained in England by faction and discontent, was already on his march to meet him. He committed the guard of Dublin to a militia, under the command of Lutterel, the governor, and marched with six thousand French infantry to join the main body of his arwy, which, at the approach of the enemy, had retired from Dundalk and Ardee, and now lay near Drogheda, on the banks of the river Boyne. His num- bers were about thirty-three thousand. His council of officers reminded him, that the nuval armament of France was completed, and the fleet, perhaps, already on the Eng- lish coast ; that Louis had promised, as soon as the squadron attending on Wil- liam should return, he would send a fleet of frigates into the Irish seas to destroy his transports, that he would be thus fatally detained in Ireland, while Britain was threatened by foreign invasion, and the domestic enemies of the reigning prince concerting an insurrection. In such circumstances, they advised him to wait the event of those designs formed in his favour, not to hazard an engagement against superior numbers ; to strengthen his garrisons, to march to the Shannon with his cavalry and a small body of foot, and thus to maintain a defensive war against an enemy, which, in a strange and unfriendly climate, without provisions or succours, must gradually perish by disease and famine. James, on the contrary, contended that to abandon the capital were to confess himself subdued ; that his reputation must be irreparably ruined : that the Irish, who judged by appearances, would de- sert ; and what was still of more moment, his friends in England and Scotland must be dispirited, and deterred from their attempts to restore him. He expressed satisfaction, that be had at last the opportunity of one fair battle for the crown. He insisted on maintaining his present post; and from such animated language, his officers concluded that he meant to take a desparate part in the engagement; yet, with an ominous precaution, he dispatched Sir Patrick Prout, one of his commis- sioners of revenue, to Waterford, to prepare a ship for conveying him to France in case of any misfortune.
William was no stranger to the motions of the French, and the machinations of his enemies. Whatever was the proper conduct for James, it was evidently his in- terest to bring their contest to an immediate decision. On the last day of June, at llie first dawn of morning, his army moved towards the river in three columns. He inarched at the head of his advanced guard, which by nine o'clock appeared within two miles of Drogheda. William, observing a hill west of the town, rode to the summit with his principal officers, to take a view of the enemy. On their right was Drogheda, filled with Irish soldiers. Eastward of the town, on the farther banks of the river, their camp extended in two lines, with a morass on the left, dif- ficult to be passed. In their front were the fords of the Boyne, deep and danger- ous, with rugged banks, defended by some breast-works, with huts and hedges,
SCENERY OP IRELAND. 15
convenient to be lined with infantry. On their rear, at some distance, lay the church and village of Donore ; three miles further was the pass of Duleek, on which they depended for a retreat. The view of their encampment was intercepted by some hills to the south-west; so that Sgravenmore, one of William's generals, who counted but forty-six regiments, spoke with contempt of the enemy's numbers. The king observed, that more might be concealed behind these hills, and many be stationed in the town ; " But it is my purpose," said he, " to be speedily acquainted with their whole strength."
His army was now marching into camp ; when William, anxious to gain a nearer and more distinct view of the enemy, advanced, with some officers, within musket-shot of a ford opposite to a village, called Old-bridge : here he conferred for some time on the methods of passing, and planting his batteries ; when riding on still westward, he alighted and sat down to refresh himself on a rising ground. Neither the motions of William nor of his army were unnoticed. Berwick, Tyr- connel, Sarsefield, and some other generals, rode slowly on the opposite banks, viewing the army in their march, and soon discovered the present situation of the king. A party of about forty horse immediately appeared in a ploughed field op- posite to the place on which he sat. In their centre they carefully concealed two field-pieces, which they planted unnoticed under cover of a hedge, and retired. William mounted his horse; at that moment the first discharge killed a man and two horses on a line, (at some distance,) with the king ; another ball instantly suc- ceeded, grazed on the banks of the river, rose, and slanted on his right shoulder, tearing his coat and flesh. His attendants crowded round him, and appeared in confusion. An universal shout of joy rung through the Irish camp at the news that Orange was no more. It was conveyed rapidly to Dublin ; it was wafted to Paris : Louis received it with ecstacy ; and the guns of the Bastile proclaimed the meanness of his triumph.
While some squadrons of the enemy's horse drew down to the river, as if to pursue a flying enemy, William rode through his camp to prevent all alarms or false reports of his danger. On the arrival of his artillery, the batteries were mounted, and the cannonading continued on each side, not without some execution, till the close of evening. Some deserters were received, and gave various accounts of the strength and disposition of the enemy. One, who appeared of some note, spoke so plausibly, and, at the same time, so magnificently of their numbers, that William seemed disconcerted. To Sir Robert Southwell, his secretary of state, who had given him different intelligence, he expressed his suspicion that the enemy was really stronger than he imagined. Southwell communicated the king's doubts to Cox, his under-secretary, through whose channel the intelligence had been con- veyed. Cox, with an acuteness which seems to have laid the foundation of his
)(J SCENERY OP IRELAND.
future fortune, led the deserter through the English camp ; and when he had sur- veyed it, asked to what he computed the amount of William's forces. The man confidently rated them at more than double their number. The king was thus satis- fied that his reports arose from ignorance and presumption. Other deserters made reports more unfavourable to the enemy ; and the king was assured, that James, in expectation of a defeat, had already conveyed part of his baggage to Dublin.
About nine at night William called a council of war, not to deliberate, but to receive his orders ; and here he declared his resolution of passing the river in front of the enemy. Duke Schomberg, with the caution natural to his years, endea- voured to dissuade him from this hazardous enterprise ; and when he could not prevail, insisted that part of the army should be immediately detached to secure the bridge of Slane, about three miles westward of their camp, so as to flank the enemy, and to cut them off from Duleek, the pass through which they might re- treat. It is generally imputed to the indifference with which his counsel was re- ceived, that this general retired in disgust, and received the order of battle in his tent, declaring that " it was the first ever sent to him." Nor did James discover more attention to this important pass of Slane. In his council of war, Hamilton recommended that eight regiments might be sent immediately to secure the bridge. James proposed to employ fifty dragoons in this service; the general, in astonish- ment, bowed, and was silent.
William directed that the river should be passed in three different places ; by his right wing, commanded by Count Schomberg, son of the duke, and General Douglas on the west, at some fords discovered near the bridge of Slane ; by the centre, commanded by Duke Schomberg, in front of the Irish camp ; and by the left wing, led by the king himself, at a ford between the army and the town of Drog- heda. At midnight William once more rode through his camp with torches, in- specting every post, and issuing his final orders.
Early on the succeeding morning, Count Schomberg with the cavalry, and Douglas with the infantry, which composed the right wing, marched towards Slane with greater alacrity than the troops sent from the other side to oppose them. They crossed the river without any opposition, except from a regiment of dragoons sta- tioned over night at the ford, of which they killed seventy, before their retreat could be secured. They advanced and found their antagonists drawn up in two lines. They formed, ranging their horse and foot, squadron with battalion, till on the arrival of more infantry they changed their position, drawing the horse to the right, by which they considerably out-flanked the enemy. But they were to force their way through fields, enclosed by deep ditches, difficult to be surmounted, espe- cially by the horse ; who, in the face of an enemy, were obliged to advance in Order ; beyond these lay the morass, still more embarrassing. The infantry were
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 17
ordered to plunge in, and while the horse found a firm passage to the right, forced their way with fatigue and difficulty. The enemy, astonished at their intrepidity, fled instantly towards Duleek, and were pursued with slaughter.
By the time when it was supposed that the right wing had made good their pas- sage, the infantry in the centre was set in motion. The Dutch guards first entered the river on the right, opposite to Old-bridge. The French Protestants and Ennis- killeners, Brandenburghers, and English, at their several passes to the left, plunged in with alacrity, checking the current, and swelling the water, so that it rose in some places to their middle, in others to their breasts, and obliged the in- fantry to support their arms above their heads. The Dutch had marched unmo- lested to the middle of the river, when a violent discharge was made from the houses, breast-works, and hedges, but without execution ; they moved on, gained the opposite banks, formed gradually, and drove the Irish from their posts.' As they still advanced, the squadrons and battalions of the enemy suddenly appeared in view, behind the eminences which had concealed them. Five of these battalions bore down upon those Dutch who had already passed, but were received firmly, and re- pulsed. The efforts of the Irish horse were equally unsuccessful. Two attacks were bravely repelled, when the French and Enniskilleners arrived to the support of the Dutch, and drove back a third body of horse, with considerable execution.
In the meantime General Hamilton led the Irish infantry to the very margin of the river, to oppose the passage of the French and English. But his men, although stationed in the post of honour at the requisition of their officers, shrunk from the danger. Their cavalry proved more spirited. A squadron of Danes was attacked with such fury and success, that they fled back through the river. The Irish horse pursued, and, on their return, fell furiously on the French Huguenots, who had no pikes to sustain their shock, and were instantly broken. Caillemote, their brave commander, received his mortal wound, and when borne to the English camp, with his last breath animated his countrymen who were passing the river. As he lay bleeding in the arms of four soldiers, he collected strength to exclaim repeatedly, in his own language, " A la gloire, mes enfans ! a la gloire !" " To glory, my boys! to glory!" The rapidity of the Irish horse, the flight of the Danes, and the disorder of the French, spread a general alarm ; and the want of cavalry struck the minds even of the peasants, who were but spectators of the battle, so forcibly, that a general cry of " Horse ! horse ! " suddenly raised, was mistaken for an order to " Halt," surprised and confounded the centre, was conveyed to the right wing, and, for a while, retarded their pursuit. In this moment of disorder, Duke Schomberg, who had waited to support his friends on any dangerous emergency, rushed through the river, and placing himself at the head of the Huguenot forces,
VOL. I. p
Jg SCENERY OP IRELAND.
who were now deprived of their leader, pointed to some French regiments in their front, and cried, " Allons, messieurs ; voila vos persecuteurs." " Come on, gentle- men, these are your persecutors." These were his last words. The Irish horse, who had broken the French Protestants, wheeled through Old-bridge, in order to join their main body, but were here cut down by the Dutch and Enniskilleners. About sixteen of their squadron escaped, and returning furiously from the slaugh- ter of their companions, were mistaken by the Huguenots for some of their own friends, and suffered to pass. They wounded Schomberg in the head, and were hurrying him forward, when his own men fired and slew him. About the same time, Walker, of Londonderry, whose passion for military glory had hurried him unne- cessarily into this engagement, received a wound in his belly, and instantly expired.
After an uninterrupted firing of an hour, the disorder on both sides occasioned some respite. The centre of the English army began to recover from their confu- sion. The Irish retreated towards Donore, where James stood during the engage- ment, surrounded by his guards ; and here, drawing up in good order, once more advanced. William had now crossed the river at the head of Dutch, Danish, and English cavalry, through a dangerous and difficult pass, where his horse flounder- ing in the mud, obliged him to dismount, and accept the assistance of his attend- ants. And now, when the enemy had advanced almost within musket-shot of his infantry, he was seen with his sword drawn, animating his squadrons, and preparing to fall on their flank. They halted, and again retreated to Donore. But here, fac- ing about vigorously, they charged with such success, that the English cavalry, though led on by their king, were forced from their ground. William, with a collection of thought which accompanies true courage, rode up to the Enniskil- leners, and asked, " What they would do for him?" Their officer informed them who he was : they advanced with him, and received the enemy's fire. But, as he wheeled to the left, they followed by mistake ; yet, while William led up some Dutch troops, they perceived their error, and returned bravely to the charge. The battle was now maintained on each side with equal ardour, and with variety of for- tune. The king, who mingled in the hottest part of the engagement, was con- stantly exposed to danger. One of his own troopers mistaking him for an enemy, presented a pistol to his head ; William calmly put it by. " What !" said he, " do you not know your friends?" The presence of such a prince gave double vigour to his soldiers. The Irish infantry were finally repulsed. Hamilton made one des- perate effort to turn the fortune of the day, at the head of his horse. Their shock was furious, but neither orderly nor steady. They were routed, and their general conveyed a prisoner to William. The king asked him, whether the Irish would fight more. " Upon my honour," said Hamilton, " I believe they will ; for they
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 19
have yet a good body of horse." William surveyed the man who had betrayed him in his transactions with Tyrconnel, and in a sullen and contemptuous tone ex- claimed, " Honour ! YOUR honour ! "
Nor was this asseveration of Hamilton well-grounded. The right wing of Wil- liam's army had by this time forced their way through difficult grounds, and pur- sued the enemy close to Dunleek. Langan rode up to James, who still continued at Donore, advising him to retreat immediately, as he was in danger of being sur- rounded. He marched to Dunleek at the head of Sarsefield's regiment; his army followed, and poured through the pass, not without some annoyance from a party of English dragoons, which they might easily have cut to pieces, had they not been solely intent on flying. When they reached the open ground, they drew up and cannonaded their pursuers. Their officers ordered all things for a retreat, which they made in such order, as was commended by their enemies. Their loss in this engagement was computed at fifteen hundred ; that of William's army scarcely amounted to one-third of this number.
Here was the final period of James's Irish loyalty. He arrived at Dublin in great disorder, and damped the joy of his friends, who, at the intelligence of Wil- liam's death, every moment expected to receive him in triumph. He assembled the popish magistrates and council of the city ; he told them that in England his army had deserted him; in Ireland they had fled in the hour of danger, nor could be persuaded to rally, though their loss was inconsiderable ; both he and they must therefore shift for themselves. It had been deliberated, whether, in case of such a misfortune, Dublin should not be set on fire ; but on their allegiance he charged them to commit no such barbarous outrage, which must reflect dishonour on him, and irritate the conqueror. He was obliged, he said, .to yield to force, but would never cease to labour for their deliverance ; too much blood had been already shed ; and Providence seemed to declare against him ; he therefore advised them to set their prisoners at liberty, and submit to the Prince of Orange, who was merciful. The reflection on the courage of his Irish troops was ungracious, and provoked their officers to retort it on the king. They contended, that in the whole of the engagement their men, though not animated by a princely leader, had taken no in- glorious part. They observed, that while William shared the danger of his army, encouraging them by his presence, by his voice, by his example, James stood at a secure distance, a quiet spectator of the contest for his crown and dignity. " Ex- change kings," said they, " and we will once more fight the battle." Their indig- nation was increased, when they saw the prince, who inveighed against Irish cow- ardice, fly precipitately to Waterford, breaking down the bridges to prevent a pur- suit, and instantly embark for France. They, who did not impute this conduct to a defect of spirit, at least, complained, that his Irish adherents were shamefully
20 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
sacrificed to his interests and designs in England. Nor did the officers of Wil- liam express entire satisfaction at his conduct. They complained, that the enemy were not pursued with sufficient vigour, without weighing the disadvantage sus- tained by the loss of Duke Schomberg, or the danger of pursuit through a difficult pass, and an unknown country. They contended, that at the very moment of vic- tory, ten thousand men should have been detached to Athlone and Limerick, to seize these important places, and prevent the Irish from re-assembling. But they were strangers to those anxieties which oppressed the king's mind. He every moment looked for an invasion in England, and expecting to be recalled, deemed it impru- dent to divide his army, or to remove to any distance from the coast. Drogheda was summoned ; the Irish governor hesitated ; but being assured, that if the can- non were brought up no quarter was to be expected, he surrendered on condition that the garrison should be conveyed, unarmed, to Athlone ; and William now ad- vanced slowly towards the capital.
II.
WHILE the reader has been refreshing his memory with this warm page of history, we have been refreshing ourselves with a warm dinner at Drogheda — a better din- ner, it may as well be recorded, than one usually gets at English inns, and twice the time to eat it. I smiled while at table, at another instance of the national talent for persuasion, and reminded my companions that no service had been ren- dered us since our landing in the country, unaccompanied with a bit of advice, or an attempt in some way to change our mode of arriving at the object in question. The waiter at Belfast had interfered with my selection of a mutton-chop from the dish, and had run after us from the hotel to change the direction of our walk ; and I have already given, (a little out of place, for they occurred after dinner,) instances of the suggestive and persuasive talent of Irish beggars. " No, sir," said the waiter at Drogheda, when I asked for a bit of a very promising beefsteak, " take the fish, sir, and be that time there'll be a hot one ! " I followed his advice, and after doing excellent trencher-service on the second steak, asked for a glass of brand y-and-water. " The whiskey's bettAer, sir," was the reply, and it was poured out before I had time to give an opinion upon it. So whiskey was my fate, though taste and rheumatism (the latter by advice) were both of contrary mind. You
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 21
might pass a life in. English inns without finding a waiter with an opinion, and two lives without getting advice, or, indeed, anything else not charged in the bill.
We left the rain behind us at Drogheda, and got a fair view of the country, till the night closed in about us, a few miles from Dublin. The cultivation improved, and the seats of the gentry occurred oftener as we approached the capital, though still there was the same dearth of human beings which I had remarked all the way — scarce a soul to be seen out of the streets of the towns for the entire dis- tance. I think two groups of men and women, digging and weighing potatoes in the field, (in both cases, the men weighing and the women digging,) were all the people I observed off the road in a hundred miles' travel. I remarked the same indolence of attitude everywhere that had struck me in Belfast — the hands uni- formly thrust into the pockets or breast, and the shoulder against the wall or the post ; the pocket, if by chance the hand were out, gaping with a most expressive fixedness, and the hand dropping into it, when the action was achieved, with the ease of a foot into a slipper. If this national love of ease does not extend to Irish horses it is not for want of temptation. I saw several standing up to their bellies in the bogs, grazing, in great apparent comfort, from the sward just at their breasts, without drawing up a leg oftener than once in fifteen minutes. Grazing in a bog must be very delicate work, however, and from several leaps over mud-fences and stone- walls, which I observed during the day, by very indifferent looking steeds, I should think the Irish horse an animal of rather uncommon judgment and tractableness.
Who ever entered a great city without paying tribute in his heart to the truth of that part of natural history, which asserts, that " man is a gregarious animal ? "* What delight, after long travel through the lonely fields and over the bleak hills of the country, to be driven suddenly into the streets of a crowded metropolis, to see the gay shops, the whirling past of splendid equipages, the press of vehicles, the thronging of gay and busy multitudes, and to hear once more, with unaccustomed ears, the stir and murmur of these seas of human life ! What heart's blood does not quicken with sympathy at the spectacle ? What heart's grief is not unseated or charmed to sleep by the grand monotone of human stir and utterance ? The entrance to any great city, for the first time, more especially, is to me a thing looked forward to and looked back upon as an era. I am free to confess that I have numbered the Capitals of the world, and those I have not seen are as unopened
* I remember to have met but one person who excepted himself from this attribute of the human family. Dining one day with Mr. Charles Kemble, the eccentric author of " The Ad- ventures of a Younger Son," chanced to be of the party. He had just returned from America, and a gentleman at the table broke the silence of the soup, by enquiring of him, in what packet he had sailed. " I'm not gregarious, sir," was the singular reply : — " I took the cabiu of a merchantman to myselfi"
VOL. I. O
22 SCENEKY OF IRELAND.
chambers in my soul— cardinal sensations unfelt— great pleasures still possible while life exists, and so to be hoped and struggled for. Oh ! to see Rome again with new eyes— Athens— Constantinople ! There is a flood in the feeling with which such events come to pass, which carries the soul off its feet. We forget everything, in the magnitude of the novelty— even, (as the story has it,) " the skeleton under our cloaks." But I am getting into an essay.
At another time, I made a visit, of more leisure, to Dublin, and I shall defer all description of it till I come to that portion of my journal. Retracing, subse- quently, my route from Belfast to Dublin, I followed the artist of this work to MALAHIDE ; whose village and castle are much visited, from their vicinity to the ca- pital. Malahide stands in a very secluded spot, upon a creek of the Irish sea, scarce twelve miles from Dublin, and promised at one time, from the commodiousness of its bay, to become the principal sea-port of Ireland. The inlet, on whose margin it is placed, possesses sufficient depth to admit vessels of considerable tonnage, and the islands of Lambay and Ireland's Eye, check the violence of the storm, and break the fury of a raging sea, thereby affording a safe asylum in waters at all periods but little agitated. " These advantages," says Wright, " were fully appre- ciated by our ancestors, and the preference given to the little cove of Malahide excited the keen envy of the corporation of Dublin, who caused a fine to be im- posed upon Sir Peter Talbot, of Malahide Castle, for suffering vessels to break bulk at this port, contrary to the king's grants made to the city of Dublin. No commercial advantage is now derived from the security of the harbour, nor any benefit from its marine position, except that it has encouraged the settlement of a little colony of hardy sailors, engaged in the perilous life of deep-sea fishing; and others who follow the more secure, but less profitable employment, of oyster- dredging. For all their produce they find a convenient market, and an expeditious sale in Dublin.
The lordship of Malahide was granted by Henry II. to an ancestor of the pre- sent proprietor, the eldest representative of Sir Geoffrey Talbot, who held Hereford Castle against King Stephen for the Empress Maud.. He was contemporary with Sir Armoricus, of Howth, and other bold adventurers, who sought acquisitions by the sword, at a time when disorganisation amongst the inhabitants appears to have left their country an easy prey. Of all the successful chieftains, whose grants were confirmed, and enjoyed by their descendants, the Talbots and St. Lawrences alone continue in possession. Attainder dispossessed some, improvidence impover- ished others. The piety of the first Talbot, who settled here, induced him to grant away a portion of his estate, called Mallagh-hide-beg, to the Abbey of St. Mary's, in Dublin. It may be mentioned, in continuation of the family history, that Thomas Talbot was summoned to parliament in 1372, by the style and title of
I I
9 g
s ^
^ t,
'# •*
i d
or
:tlV OP 1KBIYN,'.
Talbot de Mallagh-hidp, iui<] IV., in a ' ; U'.-u to M'<; ditferent mu
SCENERY OP IRELAND. 23
Lord Talbot de Mallagh-hide, and that in the year 1475, by a grant of Edward IV., in addition to the different manorial rights, and privileges of holding courts leet and baron within his lordship, the Lord of Malahide was created high admiral of the seas, with power to hear and determine upon all offences committed upon the high-seas or elsewhere, by the tenants, vassals, or residents of the manor of Malahide.
In the dark records of 1641, Thomas Talbot is written down an outlaw, for hav- ing been a participator in the Irish rebellion ; and, in 1653, a lease was granted of the hall of his forefathers, together with five hundred acres of land, for a period of seven years, to Myles Corbet, the regicide, who sustained the weight of his guilt within its walls for several years. The exterior of the castle is venerable, and the principal front displays much grandeur. The date of its foundation is probably coeval with that of the acquisition of the manor ; but uniformity is preserved in the front alone, which this brief description professes to illustrate. There a centre of strong masonry, and jealousy pierced with windows, is flanked by two lofty, handsome round towers, finished with a graduated parapet. The entrance is through a low pointed doorway, in the northern front, giving access, by a spiral staircase, to the oak-parlour. This ancient apartment is the most interesting in this spacious and comfortable residence ; it is wainscotted with dark oak, highly polished, and divided into small compartments, ornamented with rich carvings of figures, in small life, chiefly scriptural subjects.
During the desecration of this venerable apartment, by the presence of a regicide, we are told the little effigy of the Blessed Virgin, which occupied the panel imme- diately above the chimney-piece, miraculously disappeared, and in a manner equally unaccountable, returned to its position upon Corbet's flight from Malahide. A win- dow, whose light is derived through the medium of the stained glass that adorns it, augments the gloomy effects produced by the solemn character of the architectural decorations, and reminds the spectator of the proud spirits of these halls, that have passed away from their earthly grandeur. Other ages find here their illustration in coats-of-mail, vizors, gauntlets, and greaves of ponderous cast, exhibited to the curious. The other state-apartments are spacious, yet comfortable, but have lost much of their interest, by being deprived of all their original furniture and decora- tions.
The paintings, which adorn the different apartments, are of the highest merit ; and the manner of their acquisition confers upon them a deep degree of interest. The portraits of Charles I. and his queen, are by Vandyke; of James II. and his queen, by Sir P. Lely ; a fascinating portrait of the Duchess of Portsmouth, toge- ther with one of her son, the first Duke of Richmond, were the gifts of that cele- brated lady to Mrs. Wogan, from whom they have passed, as heir-looms, to the
24
SCENERY OF IRELAND.
present owner. There is also a half-length of King James's faithful adherent, Talbot, Duke of Tyrconnel, and portraits of his daughters ; all by Sir P. Lely. But the chef-d'oeuvre of this collection is an exquisite painting by Albert Durer, intended for an altar-piece, and representing the Nativity, Adoration, and Circum- cision, divided, as was his manner, into compartments. Many other works of con- spicuous merit are here omitted, not from inclination, but necessity.
Adjoining the castle, and embowered in a thick grove of chestnuts, that, in their leafy honours, cast a melancholy gloom upon the picture, are the roofless ruins of a venerable church, silent, sad, and solitary; its solitude, more striking from the appearance of a low and lonely tomb, standing in the centre of the temple, bearing on its surface the effigy of a female, habited in the costume of two cen- turies ago. She was the daughter of a Baron Plunkett, of Killeen, and in early life had been betrothed to the young Lord of Galtrim. Upon the day of cele- bratin"- the nuptials, and at the delivery of the last words of the solemn contract, the bridegroom was called away from the altar-steps to head his followers, and scatter a gathering of the Irish. Oh, vanity of earthly hopes ! in a few short hours he was borne homewards to his widowed bride,
" Stretch'd on his shield, like the steel-girt slain By moonlight seen on the battle plain."
This sepulchre the curious now often visit to contemplate the resting-place of one who had thus the unusual fortune " to be maid, wife, and widow in a single day." Her fortune afterwards proved less wayward, for she lived to marry, as her third husband, Sir Richard Talbot, of Malahide.
The scenery around the castle is of a tame and sombre kind. The ancient moat is filled up, and transformed into a sloping bank, decorated with shrubs; stately timber everywhere decorates the park, and the sea-view, which the castle com- mands, is terminated and adorned by the picturesque island of Lambay. This islet rises, with much boldness, from the water, is situated about three miles from the coast, and occupies an area of thirteen hundred and seventy-one acres. The ruins of an old fortress upon it have been repaired, and converted into a sporting-lodge by the proprietor ; rabbits and sea-fowl being there very abundant.
The next object of interest visited by the artist, on the east coast north of Dub- lin, is the " Montpelier of Ireland,"* ROSS-TREVOR. This popular and lovely watering-place is situated on an acclivity, ascending gracefully from the margin of a land-locked bay, and backed by precipitous and lofty mountains ; villas, noble mansions, rustic cottages, and every variety of rural dwelling, decorate the lovely
* Wright's Scenes in Ireland.
(.tie temple,
jl« day."
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; statclv
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ol
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[ noticed here nurti
avour. or-;. .•-,;! r. ' ; •!.-• '-•\'i ^nilion if l!'j ;^ c. t; i • " the murderers of' t!.^ Itniiatt'n :infl '-..i^ea of Uie iov/i'st «.*f
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 25
scene — a happy combination of mountain, of low-land, of wood and water. The rank of the inhabitants contributes to the neat and comfortable appearance of the place ; and the public decorations are in character with the greatness and sublimity of the surrounding landscape. A handsome church and steeple are well placed at the upper extremity of the market-place, strongly relieved on the dark front of the mountain behind.
I noticed here particularly, what I had frequently remarked, the readiness of the Irish smile, even on faces furrowed and pale with misery. A smile is seldom ex- changed in England between the rich and poor ; but in Ireland you cannot begin to relax your countenance before the beggar in the road, without an instant sympa- thy in the features of the wretched being imploring your pity. I found my obser- vation of these good-humoured traits of the people unsettling, spite of previous conviction, the opinions I had formed of the blood-thirstiness and cruelty of the Irish character. It is impossible to believe even the evidence of history against Si light-hearted and smiling a people. In looking since into many books on the sub- ject of Irish disturbances, rebellions, &c. I was gratified to find an apology for the bloody hue of the country's history, which, in some degree, justified my im- pression. Mr. G. C. Lewis, in his clever work, says, " Many people have won- dered at the singular and apparently wanton cruelty which characterises the Irish crimes ; the killing of children, the cutting out of tongues, the mutilations of ears and noses, the cardings and severe beatings, or the shocking maiming of animals ; all these betoken a mind thoroughly reckless about the infliction of pain.
" It is unfortunately far easier to account for this disposition of thp Irish pea- santry than to remove it. Their indifference to the sufferings of which they are the cause, arises from the consciousness that their conduct will be approved by their own class ; that public opinion, so far as they come in contact with it, is in their favour. A man who murders for his own gain, must make up his mind to general execration if he is detected. He must be prepared, (like Bishop and Williams, the murderers of the Italian boy,) to die on the scaffold, in the midst of the yells and curses of the lowest of the populace. But a Whiteboy, who carries into effect the wishes of his own order, who executes a law of opinion, has nothing to fear but the power of a magistrate ; he knows that the sharper the pain which he inflicts, the louder and more general will be the approbation of his fellows. Nothing is more common than to see how persons, when acting as members of a body, will throw off those moral restraints by which they are habitually governed in their in- dividual capacity. Not only does this arise from the consciousness of power, (every member of a body, as Thucydides has remarked, thinking himself worth more than a unit,) but also from the anticipation of support from his party, and the absence of the check of general reprobation. Hence we have seen, that aristocracies have,
ii
96 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
in their collective capacities, perpetrated acts from which individuals among them would have shrunk with horror ; hence we see, that in mobs people mutually en- courao-e and urge on one another into excesses which they would never have coolly planned as isolated individuals. That the difference between England and Ireland in the carelessness of human life, arises, not so much from the nature of the people, as from the difference of the circumstances in which they are placed, appears from the fact, that, when in England the opinion of a large body has been in favour of atrocious crimes, atrocious crimes have been committed. Of this, the outrages per- petrated by the Trades' Unions afford a sufficient proof: the murder of Mr. Ashton, in Cheshire, by two men, who were hired by the Trades' Union, and received ten pounds for killing him, is equal in atrocity to almost any Irish murder."
I would fain hope, (though one or two highly educated and intelligent Irishmen have assured me that Mr. Lewis's view is an incorrect one,) that in this statement lies gome apology for Irish murders.
Ross-trevor is the united surnames of two respectable families, whose properties were here united by a marriage of their representatives. On the beach stands a slender and graceful obelisk, erected to the memory of one of the former name, who fell at the attack on Baltimore, the brave GENERAL Ross.
On the road from Newry to Ross-trevor, stands the pretty CASTLE OF NARROW- WATER, situated most picturesquely among the graceful mountains of Ulster, on the river Newry. The broad surface of the river is here contracted by a protruding rock, on whose surface stands the castle, in a position that enables it to command, in the most entire manner, the only pass to the town of Newry. The date of its foundation is not precisely known, but it was subsequent to the Restoration, and its erection is ascribed to the Duke of Ormonde. When its defensive properties were no longer necessary, it was abandoned to a commercial speculator, who es- tablished salt-works within it, and upon their removal, it was occupied for some time as a dog-kennel. This interior desecration has not detracted from the perma- nent beauty that accompanies its position, nor impaired the majesty of its exterior form. The contraction of the channel rendered this an advantageous place for the establishment of a castle, for the defence of a pass or exaction of toll ; and it is supposed, that the founder constructed a causeway of large stones, with an open- ing for vessels in the centre, directly across the river here. The rocks used in its construction continued to interrupt the navigation for many years back, and en- gineers were consulted upon the practicability and expense of their removal ; but, considering it to be a natural formation, they represented the task as difficult, and returned an estimate in proportion. Accident discovered the true character of the rocky bar, which, in the year 1831, was removed at a trifling expense, and the na- vigation opened from the sea to Newry.
IV ' . t
i individuals among i •
nobs pwplc mutually en-
, w-.ui I never have c<
»ci-.n England and Ireland
the nature of the people,
;ire pl:t> «1, appears from
h-.i )j«en in favour of
-. :!ie uutragts per-
i ; '.<\ .Mr. Ashton,
; ;•: ii-jier.'ed ten
•i iijiii • -.''jr some •m :!i._> pcrma- '•..- exterior a- ;: lace 'for the oi i.)!i; and it is • *ith an open- rocks used in its
. li'ici; . :•
ch;i
.SCENERY OF IRELAND. 27
III.
I LEFT Belfast for Larne, in company with my kinsman, Dr. Wall, of Dublin, on a rainy morning at daylight. Cowering under an umbrella, on an outside car, we felt that the promise for the day's enjoyment was a poor one; but we had scarce reached the base of Cave Hill, before the clouds broke away, and the chequered light thrown over the landscape through the flying clouds, was more favourable even than clear sunshine to the scenery. The view of BELFAST LOUGH from CAVE HILL is exceedingly fine, commanding, besides the whole of the Lough, the greater part of the Down county, and in clear weather, the coast of Scotland. The fine sheet of water lying below the eye, (the Vinderius of Ptolemy,) is called, in- discriminately, the Bay of Carrickfergus and Belfast Lough. It is, (says Curry's Guide to the County of Antrim, to which I am indebted for much information,) about twelve miles long and five broad, measuring from Groomsport, in Down, to Whitehead, on the Antrim side. The breadth gradually diminishes from the entrance to the embouchure of the river Logan, and the channel, formerly very shallow near that place, has been so deepened by skilful management, as to admit vessels which draw thirteen feet of water, close to the wharfs. There is a deep pool, called Carmoyl or Garmoyle, about one mile from the south shore, opposite Holly- wood, where vessels ride at low water, when the bank within twenty yards is com- pletely dry. There are scarcely any rocks in this bay, except one reef on the north side, (which is covered at high water,) called by the Irish the Briggs, i. e. the tombs ; but by the Scotch the Clachan, from its resemblance to a village when un- covered at low water. There is a shoal a little south-west of Carrickfergus, over which lies three fathom of water at ebb-tide. The Speedwell, a Scotch ship, in King William's reign, was the only ship ever known to suffer on it. The Down coast is distinctly seen during the drive to Carrickfergus, and is beautifully diversi- fied with seats and villages ; of these the most important are Hollywood and Bangor, whose sites appear peculiarly well chosen. Near the latter town, at a little inlet called Groomsport Bay, the Duke Schomberg first cast anchor. At the en- trance are seen the Copeland Isles, so called from a family of that name settled on the coast of Down in the twelfth century ; and passing a few miles onward, by a range of fine villas, the town and castle of Carrickfergus are presented in the front field of the view. The latter is a bold and magnificent object, standing upon a reef of rocks projecting into the bay, by which means in this approach its outline is most clearly and strongly defined to the eye of the spectator. The shore near
28
SCENBRY OF IRELAND.
Carrickfergus is said to be particularly adapted to bathing, from its freedom from mud and ooze, and the cottages erected along the shore, are let at high rents during the bathing-season. It was in the Bay of Carrickfergus that Paul Jones appeared in 1778, and, after a bloody engagement, captured the British sloop-of-war, Drake. The CASTLB OF CARRICKFERGUS forms a most noble projection on the bay, and in every view of the town is a most conspicuous and picturesque object. At com- mon tides three sides of the building are enclosed by water. The greatest height of the rock is at its further extremity, where it is about thirty feet, shelving con- siderably towards the land; the walls of the castle following exactly its different. windings.* Towards the town are two towers, called, from their shape, half-moons, and between these is the only entrance, which is defended by a strait passage, with embrasures for fire-arms. About the centre of this passage was formerly a draw- bridge ; a part of the barbican that protected the bridge can still be seen. A dam, west of the castle, is believed to have been originally made to supply the ditch at this entrance with water. Between the half-moons is a strong gate, above which is a machicolation, or aperture for letting fall stones, melted lead or the like, on the assailants. Inside this gate is a portcullis, and an aperture for the like purpose as that just mentioned; the arches and each side of this apert re are of the Gothic kind, and the only ones observed about the building. In the gun-room of these towers are a few pieces of light ordnance. A window in the east tower, inside, is ornamented with round pillars ; the columns are five feet high, including base and capital, and five inches and a half in diameter. The centre column seems to be a rude attempt at the Ionic ; the flank columns have the leaves of the Corinthian ; their bases consist of two toruses. Within the gates is the lower yard, or balium ; on the right are the guard-room and a barrack ; the latter was built in 1802. Op- posite these are large vaults, said to be bomb-proof, over which are a few neat apartments occupied by the officers of the garrison, ordnance-storekeeper, and master-gunner. A little southward are the armourer's forge, and a furnace for heating shot; near which, on the outer wall of the castle, is a small projecting tower, called the lion's den.
The tower is divided into five stones ; the largest room was formerly in the third story, with semicircular windows. It was called Fergus's dining-room, and was twenty-five feet ten inches high, forty feet long, and thirty-eight broad. Within the keep was formerly a draw-well, thirty-seven feet deep, the water of which was anciently celebrated for medicinal purposes. This well is now nearly filled up with rubbish.
The following notice of this castle is given in a survey by George Clarkson, in 1567. " The building of the said castle on the south part is three towers, viz., the
* M'Skimmin's History of Carrickfergns.
\
a fair and comely buildin
reparation, it will We enioyd ih(.
lift us, ti
out t'or.a <ti-"l' :»'<•! KJ :ii •
•tone, both of wl
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 29
gate-house tower in the middle thereof, which is the entry at a draw-bridge, over a dry moat ; and in said tower is a prison and porter-lodge, and over the same a fair lodging, called the constable's lodging ; and in the courtain between the gate- house and west tower in the corner, being of divers squares, called Cradyfergus, is a fair and comely building, a chapel, and divers houses of office, on the ground, and above the great chamber and the lords' lodging, all v.liich is now in great decaie as well as the couverture being lead, also in timber and glass, and without help and reparation, it will soon come to utter ruin."
We enjoyed the delightful view of Carrickfergus Bay, by snatches, during almost the whole of the road from Cave Hill to Larne. It was the first week in February, a time of the year when in America we have almost forgotten the colour of the snow-covered ground, and here were fields of the brightest and tenderest green, cattle grazing, birds singing, every sign of an October morning, indeed, except the leaves on the trees. The wintriest picture of the scene was an occasional bleach- ing-field, where, in long stripes upon the grass, lay the white linen, resembling the vanishing snow-wreaths in an American thaw. There seemed to me very little difference between summer and winter in Ireland, for in my first visit to the country, in August, I was travelling with the same degree of clothing, and I am sure the winds were as chilly then as now, and the fields no greener.
We came very suddenly upon LARNE, and at the same moment that we turned over the eda;e of the deep glen on which it lies, the sun broke out upon the lovely bay and village below, illuminating the whole scene with a light such as a painter would have chosen. It was, indeed, a delicious picture, and there was something Italian, no less in the soft vapoury light in which it was bathed, than in the posi- tion and aspect of the town. Island Magee lay in fine outline across the bay, and on a narrow tongue of land, called the Curraan, stood the ruins of an old castle, giving a romantic and foreign look to the entire scene. Our car-driver descended too fast for us, though our breakfast was at the foot of the hill, and entering a narrow and old-fashioned street, he deposited us at a small and tidy inn, so like the same thing in Italy, (the street and inn of a small village between Rome and Florence,) that the illusion was difficult to shake off. We ordered our breakfast, and started out for a stroll along the crescent of the little bay, and, hungry as we were, the im- pression made on us by its spring-like softness and beauty, is among the most agree- able of my Irish recollections. Larne, (says the Guide Book to the Giant's Causeway,) was anciently called Inver, (which signifies lowly situated.) Its trade was once of some importance, and even yet it is not contemptible. The duties in the year 1810, amounted to £.14,000, and there is still occasion to make it the re- sidence of a collector. The chief articles of commerce here are rock-salt and lime- stone, both of which are exported in very considerable quantities. There is a good
i
30 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
deal of cotton-weaving, and a manufacture of sail-cloth, with some other traffic connected with nautical affairs, Larne being the best harbour on this coast, from Belfast Lough to Derry.
The town consists of two divisions, usually called the old and new towns ; the old one is built on rather an irregular plan, the latter consists of one long avenue, in which there are several excellent houses. The population amounts to about three thousand souls. There are, besides the parish church, one Methodist meet- ing-house, three Presbyterian, and one Roman Catholic, chapel.
The most interesting historical record, in the vicinity of Larne, is the castle of Olderfleet, before mentioned, standing on the extremity of the peninsula, called the Curraan,* a sort of natural pier, forming the northern side of the Larne harbour ; and completely commanding the strait by which it is entered. In the road from the town to the castle, the ruins of a little chapel, called Clondumales, are passed. The castle is now an insignificant ruin, but the advantage and dignity of its situa- tion can never fail of attracting the visitor. It is supposed to have been erected by one of the Bissetts, a powerful Scotch family, upon whom Henry III. bestowed large possessions in the barony of Glenarm, some of which were forfeited by Hugh Bissett in the reign of Edward II. for rebellion. James M'Donnell, Lord of Kantyre, asserted his claim to this land in right of the Bissetts, but his son ^Eneas was content to accept of them on conditions approved of by Elizabeth, viz., that lie would not carry arms under any but the kings of England, and would pay an annual tribute of hawks and cattle.
It was on the peninsula of the Curraan that Edward Bruce effected his landing, in 1315, with the expectation of making himself king of Ireland, which vain and foolish ambition caused so much bloodshed through the east of Ireland, and was productive of such dreadful calamities, to the English settlers particularly.
The castle of Olderfleet became important as a defensive fortress against the pre- datory bands of Scots, who infested the north-eastern coasts, and was generally un- der the direction of a governor. In 1569, we find Sir Moyses Hill held this office, but in 1598, being thought no longer useful, it was abolished. After changing proprietors several times, the castle was finally granted to Sir Arthur Chichester, in 1610, by James I. At Olderfleet will be found a ferry-boat, which plies regularly between that point and Island Magee, for which passage one penny is demanded ; and, having landed, the pedestrian will find two roads, one towards Brown's Bay, another along the Larne side : let him take the former. Of this island a curious and brief account is to be met with in a private MS. in this county, which men-
* Curraan is a corruption of the Irish word carrian, a hoop, which the curved form of the peninsula suggested originally.
SCENERY OP IRELAND. 31
tion s that in the reign of Elizabeth it was a complete waste, without any wood, although a fertile soil ; and that the queen had granted a lease of it to Savage, a follower of the Earl of Essex. At this time, says the MS., it was inhabited by the Magees, from whom it derives its name.
Not far from the landing-place stands a druidical cromlech. The covering stone, which rests on three supporters, is six feet in length, and of a triangular shape ; its inclination is to the rising sun. On the east of Brown's Bay is a rocking-stone, or giant's cradle, which was said to acquire a rocking, tremulous motion at the ap- proach of sinners or malefactors : there were many of these over the face of the kingdom, but they are now dislodged in most places, so that the few which remain are most interesting curiosities. They were so ingeniously poised, that the slightest impulse was capable of rocking a mass which the greatest strength was unable to dislodge ; nor does there appear to be any contrivance adopted but the circum- stance of placing the stone upon its rude pedestal. Until a very late period, Island Magee was the residence of witches, and the theatre of sorcery: in 1711, eight females were tried upon this extraordinary charge in Carrickfergus, and the me- mory of Fairv Brown is still a cause of terror among the neighbouring peasantry.
IV.
THE inn parlour at Larne was very clean, and the oreakfast excellent. Two books graced the old-fashioned sideboard, of which one was a volume I scarce thought to stumble upon so far from home, a Biography of the Heroes of the American Revo- lution, printed in Cincinnati, Ohio. I had no time to refresh my memory with it, however, for the day shone bright through the little inn-windows, and our expedi- tious landlord, who was to drive us himself to Glenarm, had his tandem-car at the door, by the time we had polished our first egg-shell. The car and team were the worst we met with on our excursion, but all deficiencies were made up by the enthu- siasm with which we were driven. I never saw a much more damaged grey mare than the wheeler, but she was " persuaded" in a style that would have worked speed into a tortoise. Our Jehu was a merry, pleasure-loving looking boy, with a very big arm, and a most formidable whip, and spite of the dreadful dislocation of the car's movement, I was in a constant laugh at the tender terms with which he accompanied blows that threatened to break in the poor creature's ribs at every re-
32 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
petition. Imagine the contrast between tune and accompaniment in a performance like this : " Come up, woman ! " (thwack !) " Go along, pet ! " (thwack ! thwack !) " Whew, sweetheart!" (thwack !) " Hip, old mare !" (thwack ! thwack ! thwack!) And " da capo" for twelve Irish miles.
The coast from Lame to Glenarn reminded me of the road along the Mediterra- nean in the south of France. The hills are not so high, nor the road carried so loftily as that over the maritime Alps, but the profiles of the coast of Antrim are holder and finer, and, indeed, nothing can surpass the beauty of the successive views got at every turn of the road. We rounded a noble promontory into Gle- nnrm, the church-spire first breaking on the view, and the towers of the castle im- mediately after — the whole apparition of the town and its fine points of picturesque resembling the moving tableaux of theatrical scenery. We lost no time in making for the castle, and, turning out of the street, came directly upon the bridge con- nected with its lofty and superb barbican. A small mountain-river brawls between the town and the lofty structure which, in feudal days, lodged its master the M'Donnell, and from the deep water rises directly the stern old wall, with its em- brasures and towers, in as high preservation as on the day it was completed. A great part of the walls and ornamental architecture of Glenarm are modern, but all the additions are executed in the finest spirit of antiquity. A more beautiful gem than the castellated structure, nestled between the overhanging sides of this ravine, I never have seen. It has all the charms, beside, of high care and cultivation, the deer-park stretching away up the valley, and the green swards and walks within the grounds kept with the nice care which distinguishes the noble demesnes of England. The excellent Guide to Antrim, (which is graced with drawings by the distinguished scholar Petrie,) gives the following information relative to Glenarn and its dependencies.
•' The village of Glenarm consists of about two hundred cottages, and appears originally to have been built for the clansmen of the noble family, whose castle stands beyond the river. The castle is a stately, ancient pile, in a command- ing position ; from our front there is a view of the bay and its enclosing pro- montories, and from the other a prospect up the wooded glen towards the deer park. The castle is large, and contains some excellent apartments ; its exterior presents something of the character of a baronial castle of the fifteenth century. The approach to the castle is by a lofty barbican standing on the northern extre- mity of the bridge. Passing through this, a long terrace, overhanging the river, and confined on the opposite side by a lofty, embattled curtain-wall, leads through an avenue of ancient lime-trees, to the principal front of the castle, the appearance of which from this approach is very impressive. Lofty towers, terminated with cupolas and gilded vanes occupy the angles of the building ; the parapets are
hose castle command -
' <ts exterior
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 33
crowded with gables, decorated with carved pinnacles, and exhibiting various heraldic ornaments.
The hall is a noble apartment, forty-four feet in length by twenty in breadth and thirty-feet high ; in the centre of which stands a handsome billiard-table. Across one end passes a gallery, communicating with the bed-chambers, and sup- ported by richly ornamented columns, from the grotesque ornaments of which springs a beautiful grained ceiling.
On the principal floor are several noble apartments ; the dining-parlour, forty feet by twenty-four, ana the drawing-room, forty-four by twenty-two, are the most spacious : the small drawing-room, library, &c., though of considerably less dimen- sions, are most commodious apartments. The demesne of Glenarm is very exten- sive, and beautifully wooded : it has latterly been much improved, and many ob- structions to the view removed. There is also an enclosure in the glen, called the Great Deer Park, which is generally supposed to be the most comprehensive park in the kingdom, and the venison fed here the choicest.
The parish-church stands near one of the entrances to the demesne, upon the beach, with a small enclosed cemetery around. There are no monuments in the interior.
In the burying-ground, around the church, stand the remains of a cruciformed building, formerly a monastery for Franciscan friars of the third order.
This monastery was founded in 14t>5, by Robert Bissett, a Scotchman, who was banished his country for aiding in the murder of the Duke of Athol, and was established here by Henry III. The estates were subsequently forfeited by the re- bellion of Hugh Bissett, in the reign of Edward II. About this time, John More M'Donnell, son of John, Lord of the Isles, landed here, and marrying Mary, daugh- ter of Sir John Bissett, claimed the lands called Glenshiesk, that is, the baronies of Carey and Glenarm ; and thus it was that the Antrim family became entitled to the Bissett's property. The barony of Dunluce became the property of the M'Donnell's in right of M'Quillan's daughter, who married a M'Donnell, and so the claim of the M'Donnells to three baronies of the county became perfectly plain. This family was ennobled by the title of Viscount Dunluce, in the person of Sir Randal M'Sorley M'Donnell, of Dunluce, June 25th, 1618. The same distinguished per- sonage was two years after raised to the Earldom of Antrim. His son Randal, afterwards Marquis of Antrim was equally remarkable for his abilities and mis- fortunes. He was treacherously arrested on one occasion by Muriro, while enter- taining him with hospitality at his castle of Dunluce, and confined in the castle of Carrickfergus, whence he escaped to York, and complained to the queen. Return- ing to Ireland again with instructions, he was seized once more by the avaricious and treacherous general, and committed to the same castle, from which he a
VOL. I. K
34 SCENERY OF IRELAND
second time effected his escape, and flying into England, by the assistance of the Marquis of Montrose, was commissioned to raise a force in Ireland for his majesty and transport it into Scotland to oppose the Covenanters. The marquis married, first, the widow of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, and, secondly, Rose, daughter of Sir Henry O'Neill, of Shane's Castle, but dying without issue, the title of marquis became extinct, and the earldom devolved on his brother Alex- ander.
The monastery of Glenarm, though founded by the Bissetts, appears to have been retained by the crown from the time of Edward II., and granted to Alexander M'Donnell in 1557, in tlie reign of Queen Mary, at which time he was presented by the lord deputy, the Earl of Sussex, with a gold sword and silver-gilt spurs for his services against the Scots.
The remains of the monastery are very insignificant. Near the eastern end stands a monument, dated 1720, bearing the crest of a hand and dagger, but the inscrip- tion is not legible. The tomb-stones all round are ornamented by the arms of each family carved thereon ; and from the ages on the slabs, it would appear, that longe- vity is a gift bestowed upon the innocent inhabitants of Glenarm. The ages on the tombs, some exceeding one hundred years, may, perhaps, prove this to be that bless- ed portion of " this sainted isle," where the inhabitants live so long, that they .sometimes find a continuance of existence burdensome, in which case their friends are said to convey them to an adjacent country, where the spirit will sooner relax its tenacious hold.
There are some membersof the Antrim family buried at Glenarm ; but the Abbey of Bona Margery, near Ballycastle, is their place of rest. In the fifteenth cen- tury, O'Neill the Great was killed in the camp of Sorley Boy, and his body, being removed to Glenarn, was interred in the Franciscan monastery of that place. Not long after, a friar from Armagh appeared at the monastery, and was admitted to its shelter and hospitality ; and when near about to take his leave, he thus addressed the abbot : " Father, I am come from our brothers of Armagh, to beg that you would grant me leave to remove the body of the great O'Neill, who lies buried here, to the grave of his ancestors at Armagh.1
The abbot paused awhile, then answered, " Have you brought hither the corpse of my Lord James, of Cantyre, which was interred amongst the strangers at Armagh?" To which the friar replying, that he had not ; " Then," said the abbot, " while you walk over the grave of my Lord James, of Cantyre, at Armagh, I will trample upon the great O'Neill at Glenarm ; " and so, at midnight, dismissed his guest.
The Bay of Glenarm is formed by a deep circular winding of the shore, and is protected on each side by lofty headlands. There is deep water here, and a quay
SliKXUHV t.F
'.in .'!,:,. i . :M :"-. ! 'wsaltit- pier r>n the north
i I>H!V tirx-a*. advantage here, but of very unUi
I'oi-r, f -tin- Irish- Sea; for, from the tr.-i
'Oil- • lid'.1, Li'
st, nor ir the ol Further, i;-,r Ti>im,_ precjarious, that if docs turt v the hardihood to prosecute it erection of a pier in tlu-. -In • when the sea assumed on BO frequent on the Antrim i . fisherman's l>c'v.t is dia-. i; up ' quant ir\ of !:.•;_•• st*i piace of retr"»it in tl;< inn
We w
and. \\ i i
Die it.u
but by non.' • • .1^1 With an easy CM and a bright FUTI, Glenarm to Cushe glens, *aud observe; tit the browot the
, to . ••; .von ol' Red lijiy. Ti>,
-uinnjit ol ('nia.-h-H--iuo, whil.: that to the north is .ntai'i o\ LjirSci-U. uot unlike the frustum oi mi
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 35
might readily be formed by building upon a natural basaltic pier on the north side of the bay. This would be not only of great advantage here, but of very universal benefit to the shipping in the northern part of the Irish Sea ; for, from the tremen- dous swell, and precipitous shore, the land is unapproachable when the wind blows from the north-east, nor is there a sheltering harbour on this coast from Lough Foyle to Larne. Further, the fishing along the coast is at present so exceedingly precarious, that it does not yield a sufficient return to the poor seaman, who has the hardihood to prosecute it. This would be remedied, to a certain extent, by the erection of a pier in this harbour, where the little skiff might fly for protection when the sea assumed one of those angry perturbations which are so sudden and so frequent on the Antrim coast. At present, for seven months and upwards, the fisherman's boat is drawn up on the beach, and the inverted hulk secured by a quantity of large stones until the return of the milder season ; for as he has no piace of retreat in the hurricane, and he dares not approach the shore while it con- tinues, he is obliged to abandon this vocation altogether, and seek another and less perilous mode of subsistence.
We were very glad to be rid of our two miserable jades and the Larne post-car, and, with many a lingering look behind at tho romantic castle of Glenarm and its green valley and bright river, we took the new road to Cushendall. If the engineer of the new and capital coast-road of Antrim had worked with a poet and painter at his back, he could not have laid out its course more agreeably to the eye and the imagination. It is constructed with equal skill, taste, and enterprise, cliffs cut through, chasms crossed, water-courses walled and bridged — a roughly-ribbed and jagged coast, in short, traversed by a road as smooth and almost as level as a tennis-court. I have been surprised by the excellence of the roads all over Ireland, but by none so agreeably as this.
With an easy car, a smart little Shetland mare, a silent, but good-natured driver, and a bright sun, we should have been difficult not to have enjoyed our drive from Glenarm to Cushendall. We crossed the outlets of several deep and romantic glens, and observed that there was not one without its waterfall. Over one or two, at the brow of the precipice from which the white torrent took its first leap, we noticed light bridges, and plantations in their neighbourhood, indicating park- scenery on the table-land above. We soon entered upon the curve of the Red Bay, and crossed the entrance of the wild VALE OF GLENARIFF, " called sometimes Glen-aireamp, the valley of numbers, and Glen-aireachaib, the valley of chiefs." Up this glen is the waterfall with the musical name of Isnaleara, which sends its waters to the sea near the caves of Red Bay. The prospect to the west is termi- nated by the lofty conical summit of Cruach-a-crue, while that to the north is limited by the extraordinary mountain of Lurgeidan, not unlike the frustum of an
36 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
enormous cone of considerable altitude, but whose base is disproportionately nai- row. Passing the neglected hamlet of Waterford, at the mouth of the Glenariff river, the caves of Red Bay are reached : they are excavations probably formed at some remote period by the inroads of the tide, which is now excluded by the em- baiiKinent in front, in a species of soft red sand-stone. There are three of tolera- ble magnitude, one of which is very appropriately converted into a smith's forge, ;ind affords a very Cyclopean appearance. A second is reported to be the residence of a female, (Nancy Murray, the driver called her,) whose trade is the sale of illicit spirits. The ruined castle of Red Bay towered above us as we passed from a lofty arch cut through the southern extremity of one of the red cliffs, and beneath this is a cave, said once to have been used as a school. The castle was built, it is said, by the Bissetts, from whom the Antrim family derive this barony.
A fine conical mound rose up before us as we approached Cushendall, and a few minutes brought us in sight of this most picturesque little village. I was imme- diately reminded of Amalfi, in looking down upon it ; and, indeed, this whole coast has the peculiar character of that of the Bay of Salerno. The softness of the atmosphere added something no doubt to the resemblance — for I descended Sca- racatoja, on my way to Salerno in the same month, and with very much such weather.
We entered the small inn of Cushendall, and found the hostess, a remarkably handsome young woman, reading the Bible. Religion and neatness are inseparable, as every traveller knows ; and after a look into the cheerful kitchen and tidy little parlour, I regretted that night had not overtaken us at Cushendall. While our next Jehu was getting ready his car, however, we sat down by the kitchen-fire and lunched upon most exemplary bread and butter, our modest and neatly-dressed landlady attending upon us with a kindness and ease that would have graced the castle of Glenarm. If I were ever in want of romantic scenery and a pleasant re- treat from the world, Cushendall would be among the first spots that would occur to my memory. Our horse and car from this inn were the best we saw on our tour to the north, and, with a fine lad for a driver, we wirled away towards the wild mountain-road that lies between Cushendall and Ballycastle. We left the coast for some time, and on reaching it again, came in sight of the magnificent headland of FAIR HEAD, one of the noblest points of this remarkable coast. " The promon- tory of Fair Head rises perpendicularly to the height of six hundred and thirty-one feet above the level of the sea. On approaching its summit, the tourist will per- ceive two small lakes, Lough Dhu and Lough-na-Cranagh, and near to its highest point, a curious cave, said to have been a Pict's house." The view from this nead- land is of a most enchanting description — to the west, the whole line of finely va- riegated limestone and basaltic coast, as far as Bangore Head ; the beautiful pro-
. Ulll-
ith of the Glenarifi
i<robably_forined at
(.•luded by the era-
n: three of tolera-
ito a smith's forge,
> be the residence
s the sale of illicit
(.ii«(.i! from a
rfs, and beneath
• was built, it is
I . and a few I war> imme-
"•: i •!"•! n<\\ little.
'if kitviK ii-iin- and
«f :uii.i ii'>ntlv-dressed
MVI! •'. have praced the
'>_i iinJ n plf-asant re-
••t-i that would occur
•*>• «.»w on our tour
"-i\ towards the wild
Wt- left the coast for
rnrifrnt headland of
.ist. l> The promon-
'i.dred and1 thirty-one
the tourist will per-
The v^ew from this nead-
ic *f*t, the whffla line of finely va-
Bongore Head; the bemotifui pro-
SCENERY OP IRELAND. 37
montory of Renbaan or Whitehead, majestically presenting its snow-white front to the foaming ocean — the swinging-bridge and bay of Carric-a-rede — beyond this, Sheep Island — and directly in front, the island of Raghery ; and to the east, the Scottish coast, &c. as already described.
The promontory of Fairhead is formed of a number of basaltic colossal pillars, many of them of a much larger size than any to be seen at the Causeway ; in some instances exceeding two hundred feet in length, and five in breadth ; one of them forming a quadrangular prism, thirty-three feet by thirty-six on the sides, and of the gigantic altitude we have just mentioned. It is said to be the largest basaltic pillar yet discovered upon the face of our globe, exceeding in diameter the pedestal that supports the statue of Peter the Great, at Petersburgh, and considerably sur- passing in length the shaft of Pompey's Pillar, at Alexandria. At the foot of this magnificent colonnade is seen an immense mass of rock, similarly formed, like a wide waste of natural ruins, which are by some supposed to have been, in the course of successive ages, tumbled down from their original foundation, by storms or some violent operation of nature. These massive bodies have sometimes withstood the shock of their fall, and often lie in groups and clumps of pillars, resembling many of the varieties of artificial ruins, and forming a very novel and striking landscape — the deep waters of the sea rolling at their base with a full and heavy swell.
V.
NEAR Fair Head is a singular fissure in the face of the precipice, called Fhir Leith, or the GRAY MAN'S PATH. The entrance to the pass at the top is extremely nar- row ; and a joint of green-stone, which has fallen across it, forms a sort of natural gate, through which the bold inquirer must descend, and which conducts to a gra- dually expanding passage leading to the base. There are said to be one or two similar chasms along the summit, which have frequently proved fatal to cattle pas- turing upon the headland. These clifts suggest the probability of accidents of a more serious kind, and in the Dublin Penny Journal, (the best conducted and most valuable work of its kind in Great Britain,) I find the following anecdotes relative to accidents in this neighbourhood. " From the Aird Snout, a man, named J. Rane, tumbled down while engaged in searching for fossil-coal, during a severe winter ; and, strange to say, was taken up alive, although seriously injured by the fall.
VOL. I.
38 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
Another man, named Adam Morning, when descending a giddy path that leads to the foot of Port-na-Spania, with his wife's breakfast, who was at the time employed in making kelp, missed his footing, and tumbling headlong, was dashed to atoms ere he reached the bottom. The poor woman witnessed the misfortune from a distance ; but supposing, from the kind of coat he wore, that it had been one of the sheep that had been grazing on the headland, she went to examine it, when she found instead, the mangled corpse of her husband." Another story is told of a poor girl, who, being betrothed to one she loved, in order to furnish herself and her intended hus- band with some of the little comforts of life, procured employment on the shore, in the manufacture alluded to, with some other persons in the neighbourhood. Port- na-Spania, as will be observed, is completely surrounded by a tremendous precipice from three to four hundred feet high, and is only accessible by a narrow pathway, by far the most difficult and dangerous of any of those nearly perpendicular ascents to be met with along the entire coast. Up this frightful foot-way was this poor girl, in common with all who were engaged in the same manufacture, obliged to climb, heavily laden with a burden of the kelp ; and, having gained the steepest point of the peak, was just about to place her foot on the summit, when, in consequence of the load on her shoulders shifting a little to one side, she lost her balance, fell backwards, and ere she reached the bottom, was a lifeless and mangled corpse. To behold women and children toiling up this dreadful ascent, bearing heavy loads, either on their heads or fastened from their necks and shoulders, is really painful, even to the least sensitive, unaccustomed to the sight — and yet the natives them- selves appear to think nothing whatever of it.
An anecdote is also related of a man who was in the habit of seating himself on the edge of a cliff which overhung its base, at Poortmoor, to enjoy the beauty of the widely-extended scene. One fine summer morning, however, having gained the height, and taken his accustomed seat, while indulging in the thoughts and feelings which we may suppose the scene likely to inspire, "a change came o'er the spirit of his dream" — the rock upon which he was perched gave way, and, in the twinkling of an eye, bore him on " its rapid wing" to the foot of a precipice, where it sunk several feet into the earth — safely depositing its ambitious bestrider on the shore, at a distance of fully four hundred feet from the towering eminence off which he had made his involuntary aerial descent.
The shore in this neighbourhood is beautifully indented with coves, made partly by the action of the sea, and partly by the wear of the mountain-torrents. One of these forms a beautiful fall, called THE LEAP, which in rainy seasons is an object of great beauty. Night closed upon us as we entered Ballycastle, and we were happy to find ourselves at another comfortable inn, and within a two hours' drive of the Causeway. This little town possesses a very strong interest for the his-
™
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 3D
torian an.; nan, as well as the gcol >gist and traveller. The collieries of Bally-
castle bav' IHI ' periods, occupied the attention of speculators; and it is
confidently bf'ieved the, will -.nil pn<v a -^niro of wealth t« Ireland. But :i
more than -'ordinary interest is attached t-. (hcni from a discovery made ub mi
seventy years ago by.the miners employ. -4 ;n t Mr. Hamilton, in hi.* Lei
ters oft the Antrim Coast, says, that ah.
pushing forward an ndit .towards- t!ie
Ballycastle cliff,-they unexpectedly 1
so much contracted and choked u|> •
and bottom, 'as to render it i:u; >*--.iM"
they might examine it liirther.
candles, fof the purpose of exj«i.
proceeded for-a considerable \-.n\i\
entered into an extensive l.i!
mazes- and windings of which t
various vain attempts (<> return, ffveu
lioars'e and exhausted with Iro-ju
fatifrued^ they sat down togethffe in
alarnred for their satety. used '
at length, it oxicurrod to one t>t i
haiumer-against a stonn would be
which- artifite succeeded in direotuii
adventurei-STWCTc sealed in depi»iml.-
light of the 8nn, after an absi ucc Thirty-six chambers were disn
ha • haskets and inininu'-i'i't"' •
ginal miner's knowledge and <-xp-'i'
No tradition remain^ in the countr\ ul t"
trv. "iif -'M \vi.nks ct aiitiqtnt; av •.
in ti '•• tlii- l; -•!).( ;• Hoi •
satib' -fi !<y ti1" wvif- t' :,\ ..•
voui :i, that th.-..- . ls derivf.j
'inrthic •' Brnct s .u^iiery, ap-
luiw, whicn
.^1 -., i,,. a J>ear •» strong resemblance
,v. iK.-. ' all pr6b:ibUity, were brought
. :<. i .a t;tneraL use, and this
• * , i. ;!v.-.a?tk', on .ft narrow, peninsula,
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 3'J
torian and antiquarian, as well as the geologist and traveller. The collieries of Bally- castle have, at different periods, occupied the attention of speculators ; and it is confidently believed they will still prove a source of wealth to Ireland. But n more than ordinary interest is attached to them from a discovery made about seventy years ago by the miners employed in the works. Mr. Hamilton, in his Let- ters on the Antrim Coast, says, that about the year 1770, while the miners were pushing forward an adit towards the bed of coal in an unexplored part of the Ballycastle cliff, they unexpectedly broke through the rock into a narrow passage, so much contracted and choked up with various drippings and deposits on its side and bottom, as to render it impossible for any of the workmen to force through that they might examine it further. Two lads were therefore made to creep in with candles, for the purpose of exploring this subterraneous avenue, they accordingly proceeded for a considerable time, with much labour and difficulty, and at length entered into an extensive labyrinth, diverging into numerous apartments, in the mazes and windings of which they were completely bewildered and lost. After various vain attempts to return, their lights were extinguished, their voices became hoarse and exhausted with frequent shouting ; at length, becoming completely fatigued, they sat down together in utter despair. Meanwhile their friends without, alarmed for their safety, used equal exertions to indicate their presence, but in vain ; at length, it occurred to one of the subterranean wanderers, that the sound of his hammer against a stone would be better heard than the sound of a human voice, which artifice succeeded in directing their friends to the place where the two young adventurers were seated in despondence, and so ultimately restored them to the light of the sun, after an absence of twelve hours.
Thirty-six chambers were discovered here, all trimmed and dressed by excellent hands ; also baskets and mining-instruments, and other demonstrations of the ori- ginal miner's knowledge and expertness in the art, equal to that of the present age. No tradition remains in the country of the working of this mine ; and the peasan- try, who attribute all works of antiquity in this kingdom to the Danes or the giants, in this instance prefer the former. But this conclusion is erroneous, as is very satisfactorily proved by the writer of the above extract. Another argument in fa- vour of the supposition, that these collieries were wrought anciently, is derived from this curious circumstance. Bruce's Castle, on the Island of Raghery, ap- pears to have been built with lime, which had been burned with sea-coal, some cinders of which may still be detected in the mortar, and bear a strong resemblance to those of Ballycastle coals. Now these coals, in all probability, were brought from Ballycastle ; for the English collieries were not then in general use, and this was more than five centuries ago.
About two miles north-west of the town of Ballycastle, on a narrow peninsula,
40 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
composed of white limestone, which projects its perpendicular front into the sea, are the ruins of the ancient CASTLE OF KENBAAN, or the White Promontory — a name derived from that of the precipitous cliff on which it stands.
At present little remains of this building except a part of the massy walls of the tower or keep, which, from its bold and romantic situation, adds not a little to the beauty of the scenery of this wonderful coast. During summer, it is often fre- quented by parties, and the scene of many a festive collation ; where instead of the grim warder pacing at its gate, are seen inside the portal the " fairest, of the fair."
Tradition states, this building to have been erected by the Irish sept of M'Hen- drie ; but as its scanty ruins bear a striking resemblance to those castles reared by the first English settlers on the coast from the Eoyne to the Bann, we think its erection may, with greater probability, be ascribed to them, or, if it be an Irish castle, it is at least erected on the plan of those of the adventurers.
Be this as it may, about the beginning of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, we find it held by the Scottish clan' of M'Alister, who arrived in Ireland with the M'Don- nells from Cantyre. In 1568, the M'Alisters entered into a conspiracy against the English quartered in those parts, and in an encounter which took place, two English horsemen were slain ; and soon after " Rannel Oge M'Alister Caraghe," chief of the M'Alister, \vas killed in revenge, by some English soldiers. On this commo- tion, Captain William Piers, governor of Carrickfergus, and seneschal of the county of Antrim, proceeded with some troops to the Glynns, where he made three of the M'Alisters prisoners, one of whom he hung in chains ; and Alexander, chief of that sept, making his submission about this time, the M'Alisters sunk beneath the English power. Many of this name are still to be found in the Glynns.
We were up with the lark on the morning that we left Ballycastle for the Cause- way, but our attentive host had anticipated us, and our breakfast was smoking before a brilliant turf-fire. Dawn was just creeping into a sky fortunately clear, as we flourished away, Irish fashion, from the inn-door, and broad daylight found us near the far-famed CARRICK-A-!IEDE. The new road runs close to this singular chasm, and we had no difficulties to contend with, but the mud and water with which the wet season had covered the whole country. The " flying-bridge," as it is called, is removed during the winter, but the scenery of the spot, in other respects, is not susceptible of change, as there is not a tree within sight, and the grass on the summit is as bright in winter as in spring. Carrick-a-Rede signifies the rock in the road, and it is so called because it interrupts the salmon in their passage along the coast. The rock is an insulated crag of rudely prismatic basalt, connected with the main-land by a bridge of ropes, thrown across a chasm, sixty feet in breadth and eighty-four in depth. This flying-bridge which is not unlike the connecting-bridge
in which it.
I
ry — a
ifi*«y. walls of the ..ut u little to the 1 ' it .is • often fre- »;here instead of « *' fairest of the
»eptof M'Hen- safeties reared by v, i- think its if it be an Irish
lizabeth, we find
with the M'JDon-
-true'y against the
lace.-t»'n English
tKfflghe,'" chief of
<»»i lh:s coaiUQO-
, ,.r,v: '•-.[ of the
.Tt hi- iiidtle three
Alexander, chief
• rs .sunk heneath
ir lor the Cause*
- smoking before
r, as we iouiid us ni'ur .fular chasnj, aier with v, e," as it r respei. t!i
?
s 1
1 ;
o
hrtween HolyhtwJ Mountain un<l
of the chasm, and the narro* >n way. The danger in crossii^ upon the board, which, of r- » •.ipitate.s the unguarded ami M<n& accustomed to \\.ilk u!i>n;. *-+>y* attached to the li.-iji-iv, • i.iiiu'M. Mid aynaivnl eiwr. f
This fisher The only ., and they r>
and lofty rock, elevauni ri with the ruins of the CASTLE the seat of llic family of O Mr. M'Skiroiuin, the distin; learning in an essay in the U that Dunsevc-u-fc :« tJ,;-. un- seat of sue< ^-t*- -i > • i .lonely reu.ri«(.: <•; -, »toijeruro " keep" is the only i srt -.har
'.op,
VOI
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 41
between Holy head Mountain and the South Stack, is thus formed ; — two strong cables, parallel to each other, are fastened to rings inserted in the solid rock, on each side of the chasm, and the narrow interval of the ropes is occupied by a boarded path- way. The danger in crossing is attributable to an irregularity in planting the foot upon the board, which, of course, recoils against the impression too soon, and pre- cipitates the unguarded and courageous venturer into the deep chasm below. Per- sons accustomed to walk along planks may safely venture over, and the women and boys attached to the fishery, carry great loads across with the utmost contempt of danger, and apparent ease. It should be remarked, that the Island of Carrick-a- Rede is of nearly equal elevation with the main land, three hundred and fifty feet. In the cliffs, near the island, is a very beautiful cave, about thirty feet in height, formed entirely of columnar basalt, of which the bases appear to have been re- moved, so that the unsupported polygonal columns compose the cave.
The chief use of this insulated rock appears to be that of interrupting the sal- mon, who annually coast along the shore in search of rivers in which to deposit their spawn. Their passage is generally made close to the shore, so that Carrick-a-Rede is very opportunely situated for projecting the interrupting nets. It will lie here inquired, why the fishermen do not spare themselves the trouble of throwing across this very dangerous bridge, and approach the island by water ; but this is perfectly impracticable, owing to the extreme perpendicularity of the basaltic cliff's on every side, except in one small bay, which is not accessible but at particular periods. This fishery, and, indeed, all those along the northern coast, are very productive. The only residents in the little cottage on the island are the clerk and fishermen, and they remain only during the summer months. The fishermen are paid, and all the expenses of fishing defrayed, by proportionate allowances of salmon.
About three miles east of the Giant's Causeway we came in sight of a detached and lofty rock, elevating its head near the centre of a small bay, and crowned with the ruins of the CASTLE OF DUNSEVERICK:. This picturesque spot was once the seat of the family of O'Cahan, or as they were commonly called, O'Kane. Mr. M'Skimmin, the distinguished antiquarian of Carrickfergus, displays great learning in an essay in the Dublin Penny Journal, the object of which is to prove that Dunseverick is the ancient and celebrated Dun Sooarke of Irish history — the seat of successive chieftains and powerful families of the north. It is at present a lonely remnant of a structure, and though traces of the outworks are visible, the " keep" is the only part- that is still erect, and this too, from its appearance, will soon be as prostrate as the rest. Immense masses of the rock have been hewn away, evidently for the purpose of rendering the castle as inaccessible as possible. An enormous basaltic rock, south of the entrance, also appears to have been cut of a pyramidal form, and flattened on the top, perhaps as a station for a warder, or for
VOL. i. M
42 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
the purpose of placing upon it some engine of defence. That the insulated rock on which the castle is placed, should, from its peculiar strength, have been selected by the early settlers in Ireland as a proper situation for one of their strongholds is not to be wondered at ; but of that original fortress, M'Skimmin remarks, there are no remains. The present ruin, though of great strength, the walls being eleven feet in thickness, is evidently of an age not anterior to the English invasion, and most probably erected by the M'Quillans, but the annals of the time are silent as to the period of its re-edification.
In all the views between Ballycastle and Dunluce, the Island of Rathlin, (or Rathkerry,) is one of the most conspicuous features, stretching its length along the shore within six miles of the cliffs, and backed by the misty tops of the far-seen Scotch coast. The island is the property of Mr. Gage, who holds it by a lease in perpetuity under the Countess of Antrim. This gentleman is completely lord of the isle, and banishes his subjects to the continent of Ireland for misconduct or repeated offences against his laws. Raghery is about five English miles in length by three and a half in breadth. It contains about two thousand acres, one quarter of which grows corn, &c. There are three town-lands, called Shandra, Alia, and Knockard, upon which the majority of the inhabitants, generally about one thousand, reside. It appears from a late census that its population is not in- creasing, and varies very little. There are two places of worship here, a Protestant church and a Roman Catholic chapel.
The extreme western end of the island is called Keuramer, and is three hundred and fifty-two feet above the ocean. Formerly distinctions existed between the in- habitants of each end of the island, and the qualifications of each were looked upon as totally dissimilar. This, however, is not quite done away.
Near Ushet, at a place called Doon Point, the disposition of the basaltic columns is very remarkable, some being perpendicular, others horizontal, others carved. The base of this little promontory is a natural pier or mole. Above this is a col- lection of columns of a curved form, apparently assumed in conformity with the surface on which they rest, and inducing a belief that they were so moulded when in a state of softness ; and above both these arrangements, there is a variety of dif- ferently disposed columns, partaking of every position in which basalt has been discovered in other places. The form of Raghery Island is that of a right-angle, whose sides or legs are Kenramer and Ushet Points. On the external vertex of the right-angle stands Brace's Castle. In the early ages of Irish history, the proximity of Scotland and Ireland invited mutual predatory expeditions, to which it is said the Scotch were more addicted than the Irish. In these occasional partial invasions the island of Raghery was found very useful, both as a depot and place of retreat. During the civil wars which devastated Scotland, between Robert
forrifj- : eJ tg ! ty. >r\
.r
: . besides, in, all prc>L/a .tr wkich induced tbr
which u!1 travc-llew C->iup)
saw d rk tiiiures nsiny n;1 with every ap|HiarTit>co oi
which we got i?«t fcwt view *f 'I to distinguish any pqcuiuriiy
nl tiij be ,jL>«t»')i
• •,
rVnV.V ••'
SCENERY OP IRELAND. 43
Bruce and Baliol, the former fled to Raghery for shelter ; and fortifying himself in the castle which now bears his name, made a bold and successful resistance to his enemies. The short time which Bruce remained upon the island, may be very fairly assigned as a reason for his not having been the founder or builder of the castle; besides, in all probability, it was the existence of this fortified place or Raghery which induced the exiled king to fly thither for shelter.
VI.
AFTER passing Dunseverick Castle, the road turns away from the shore, and makes nearly straight for the Causeway, leaving the promontory of Bangore Head far on the right. We were looking out anxiously for the Causeway ; but even when within half-a-mile of it, the other headlands looked more attractive than the low line of the shore pointed out to us by the driver, and after seeing Fair Head, the whole of this shore might be passed by the undirected traveller, without sus- picion of the neighbourhood of wonders equal to those he had left behind. We stopped at the door of a low hut at last, and a very well-dressed and intelligent- looking man made his appearance from the smoke, and offered his services as a guide. From the season in which we travelled, as well as from the early hour at which we arrived, we missed the throngs of beggars, guides, and mineral-sellers of which all travellers complain ; but as we started on the path to the Causeway, we saw dark figures rising up in all directions, and radiating to us from a mile around, with every appearance of haste and expectation. The guide led us down a slip- pery and stony road, cut in the side of the hill which concealed the Causeway from our view, and, rounding the shoulder of it, we descended to a small mound, from which we got our first view of THE CAUSEWAY. We were at too great a distance to distinguish any peculiarity in the view, except the lines of the basaltic pil- lars, indistinctly marking the face of the cliff, and I was naturally disappointed with the first glance — but as we descended to the shore, and approached nearer around the bend of the bay, it seemed to me that the ruins of some templed and gigantic city, that had been hurled from the sky, were heaped up before me in a mountain of confused architecture. The Giant's Causeway, indeed, resembles nothing so much as a mountain of hewn stones — frusta of noble columns, remnants of vast porticoes, cast down from a height into the sea. The upright and regular
44 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
pillars in the face of the cliff, give you an impression that there is a city over- whelmed and buried behind them, and the disintered Pompeii itself was not so like as this to the idea I had formed of Pompeii before visiting Italy.
Our guide kept on his way to the vast projecting quay which descends from the base of these mountain facades into the sea. To borrow the very correct language of a clever tourist, " The principal or grand Causeway, consists of an irregular ar- rangement of many hundred thousands of columns, formed of a dark rock nearly as hard as marble. The greater part of them are of a pentagon figure, but so closely compacted together, that, though the pillars are perfectly distinct, the very water which falls upon them will scarcely penetrate between. There are some of the pillars which have seven, and a few which have eight sides ; a few also have four, but only one has been found with three. Not one will be found to correspond ex- actly with the other, having sides and angles of the same dimensions ; while at the same time the sum of the angles of any one of them are found to be equal to four right-angles— the sides of one corresponding exactly to those of the others which lie next to it, although otherwise differing completely in size and form. Each pil- lar is formed of several distinct joints, closely articulated into each other, the con- vex end of the one closely fitting into the concave of the next — sometimes the concavity, sometimes the convexity being uppermost. In the entire Causeway it is computed there are from thirty thousand to forty thousand pillars, the tallest measuring about thirty-three feet. Among other wonders, there is also the Giant's Well, a spring of pure fresh water, forcing its way up between the joints of t\vo of the columns — the Giant's Chain, the Giant's Bagpipes, the Giant's Theatre, and the Giant's Organ, the latter a beautiful colonnade of pillars, one hundred and twenty feet long, so called from its accurate resemblance to the pipes of an organ."
The same tourist from whom I have quoted, gives an amusing account of his stumbling upon a legendary explanation of the building of the Causeway. " In lately travelling," he says, " from Dublin to Belfast, we happened to enjoy as companions, a ' traveller' for a Manchester firm, and a rough, ruddy-faced farmer from the black north. The conversation turned on the Causeway. ' Oh,' exclaimed the rider, ' I was there last spring ; I just looked at it on my way from Colerain to Ballycastle — never was so disappointed in my life — terrible cold coast, wind from the north-east enough to cut you in two — dreadful hungry place, I assure you, gen- tlemen, not a morsel to satisfy the cravings of nature, not even a tree to shelter the poor goats that were glad to hide themselves under the precipices. Irishmen should come and see our Giant's Causeway, the railway ! that's a stupendous work, gen- tlemen ! '
" The wrath of the man of Antrim was roused. ' You Englishmen,' said he,
tv
, I
N^ <S
I
ray for 'the hortour and $:
" Mr, TruBffelbags
joim-cl ; * And prny,
to brag that lif K"T.I
had n<~
*id, ' Look, t «K»kir>2; in that
\ illt't V !!
ii-ha bpnr, ii:. 'I
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 45
' are all for the making of money. Why, man alive, if a dacent place that I know about is paved with goold, some of yees would be after getting a pickaxe to pocket the paving-stones. Did'nt ould Fin M'Coul all as one as make that Cause- way for the honour and glory of Ireland ? and what's the use of talking about your dirty bit of a railway. Sure, ar'n't they going to have one from Dublin to Dun- leary ? We'll bate the conceit out of yees by and bye ! "
" Mr. Trusselbags adjusted his neckcloth, and, with a knowing wink to me, re- joined ; ' And pray, my good fellow, for what purpose did this Fin M'Coul make the Causeway ? Perhaps you can tell us.'
" ' With all my heart. You see, sir, a big Scotch giant, one Benandonner, used to brag that he would lick Fin M'Coul any day. And he used to go over the Highlands, crowing like a cock on its own dunghill, that all he wanted was a fair field and no favour. So, by my souks, Fin M'Coul went to the King of Ireland, ould Cormac, may be ye've heard of him, (there was no grand-jury presentments in them days,) and he says to his majesty, says he, I want to let Benandonner come over to Ireland without wetting the sole of his shoe, and if I don't lather him as well as ever he was lathered in his life, it's not myself that's in it. So Fin M'Coul got leave to build the Causeway, and sure he did, all the road clane and nate, to Scotland. And Benandonner came over wid his broadsword and kilt, and right glad he was to get a dacent excuse for laving his own country. He was bate, of coorse, though he stuck up like a Trojan; and then he settled in the place, and became obedient to King Cormac, and got a purty, dacent girl to his wife, and they say the great Earls of Antrim are descended from them.' '
A writer in one of the numbers of the Christian Examiner, gives an account of a curious phenomenon observed, while rowing in a boat along the Causeway. " We had now," he says, " got into the centre of the bay, and could observe the whole bending of the shore from Bangore promontory to Portrush point, and while, as was natural, our eyes were principally directed towards the CAUSEWAY, to which we were approaching, and asking concerning this place and that, one of the men said, ' Look, gentlemen, there are the merry dancers on Portrush Point ! ' and on looking in that direction we all observed this most extraordinary phenomenon. Port- rush Point, which, a few moments before presented a very unmeaning appearance, and was certainly the least interesting object on the coast, now assumed a most commanding aspect. A lofty mountain arose instead of a long flat — a conical peak like Croagh Patrick, rugged rocks with their serrated points pierced the clouds ; and instantly all this vanished, and a beautiful softly-swelling wooded hill presented itself, a lofty embattled castle, a broad belt of full-grown wood, green lawns, and all the decorations of a nobleman's domain. You might conceive your- self at once transported to Plymouth-harbour, and that you saw Mount Edgecombe
VOL. I. N
46 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
before you. And, again, as by talismanic touch, all this disappeared, and on a plain two embattled armies seemed to oppose one another, and dense masses of troops, horse and foot, stood motionless as if in suspense for the battle signal, and now they rushed together, and the opposing battalions closed on each other, and a loose, shapeless cloud rose up, as if it were the mingled dust and smoke ascending from the conflict ; and all at once, the whole vision dissolved away, and nothing was seen but the low, uninteresting peninsula of Portrush. I had never before heard of this phenomenon appearing on the coast of Ireland. I had read some- thing like it as occurring in the Straits of Messina, and, on the present occasion, particularly as taken by surprise, my astonishment and delight cannot be expressed. So vivid was the delusion — so strange, so beautiful, so magnificent was the optical representation, that were I in the remotest part of Ireland, and assured that I would see it again, I should, without hesitation, put my foot in the coach, and, at almost any sacrifice of time or trouble, attend to witness it again. The boatmea assured me, it was by no means of frequent occurrence. Some of them declared they never saw it before, and he who was best acquainted with its appearance said, that it required a concurrence of wind, tide, and weather that did not often coincide to produce it."
Proceeding eastward toward the promontory of Bangore, the traveller comes to the PLEASKIN CLIFF, commonly said to be the most beautiful promontory in the world. The natural basaltic rock here lies immediately under the surface. About twelve feet from the summit, the rock begins to assume a columnar tendency, and is formed into ranges of rudely columnar basalt, in a vertical position, exhibiting the appearance of a grand gallery, whose columns measure sixty feet in height. This basaltic colonnade rests upon a bed of coarse, black, irregular rock, sixty feet thick, abounding in air-holes. Below this coarse stratum is a second range of pil- lars, forty-five feet high, more accurately columnar, and nearly as accurately formed as the Causeway itself. The cliff appears as though it had been painted, for effect, in various shades of green, vermillion rock, red-ochre, grey lichens, &c. ; its general form so beautiful, its storied pillars, tier over tier, so architecturally graceful — its curious and varied stratifications supporting the columnar ranges ; here the dark brown amorphous basalt — there the red-ochre, and below that again the slender but distinct lines of wood-coal; all the edges of its different stratifications tastefully varied, by the hand of vegetable nature, with grasses, ferns, and rock-plants — in the various strata of which it is composed, sublimity and beauty having been blen- ded together in the most extraordinary manner.
West of the Causeway lie one or two very remarkable caves, one of them accessi- ble both by land and sea, the other, the CAVE OF DUNKERRY, accessible by water alone. The entrance to the latter assumes the appearance of a pointed arch, and
46
before y
plain
tro'
ressed.
!e to
"
SCENERY OP IRELAND. 47
is remarkably regular. The boatmen are singularly expert in entering these caves. They bring the boat's head right in front, and, watching the roll of the wave, quickly ship their oars, and float in majestically upon the smooth heave of the sea. The depth of Dunkerry Cave has not been ascertained, for the extremity is so con- structed, as to render the management of a boat there impracticable and dangerous. Besides, from the greasy character of the sides of the cave, the hand cannot be serviceable in forwarding or retarding the boat. Along the sides is a bordering of marine plants, above the surface of the water, of considerable breadth. The roof and sides are clad over with green conferva, which give a very rich and beautiful effect ; and not the least curious circumstance connected with a visit to this sub- terraneous apartment, is the swelling of the water within. It has been frequently observed, that the swell of the sea upon this coast is at all times heavy, and as each successive wave rolls into the cave, the surface rises so slowly and awfully, that a nervous person would be apprehensive of a ceaseless increase in the elevation of the waters until they reached the summit of the cave. Of this, however, there is not the most distant cause of apprehension, the roof being sixty feet above high- water mark. The roaring of the waves in the interior is distinctly heard, but no probable conclusion can be arrived at from this as to the depth. It is said, too, that the inhabitants of some cottages, a mile removed from the shore, have their slumbers frequently interrupted in the winter's nights by the subterranean sounds of Dunkerry Cave. The entrance is very striking and grand, being twenty-six feet in breadth, and enclosed between two natural walls of dark basalt, and the visitor en- joys a much more perfect view of the natural architecture at the entrance, by sitting in the prow with his face to the stern, as the boat returns.
Of the other cave, an agreeable writer, whom I have before quoted, says, " When the day is fine, and the sun shining in all its lustre, it is truly a grand and interest- ing sight. The sublime massiveness of the surrounding rocks — the curious stain- ings and colours of the sides of the roof — the musical cadence of the echoes — the dark mysteriousness of its retiring recesses, contrasted with the brilliancy of all without, and the slow, solemn heave of the translucent water, bearing idly on its surface the purple sea-star, and revealing, fathoms-deep below, multitudinous vege- tations, covering its rocky bottom. I do not wonder that mythology had peopled such caverns with naiads, and goddesses, and tritons, nor did I cease to expect that our communicative guide would be able to annex to such a spot as this some legen- dary lore. At the same time I confess I did not find him in this instance quite fortunate. To be sure, he told us how two bold sea-captains, by name Willoughby and Middleton, not content with witnessing the manifold echoes of a common musket, must needs bring into this cavern a six-pounder, and how, on discharging it, an immense mass of the roof fell in, whereby their lives were placed in imminent
48 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
peril. He also told us of a piper, who, one day, when the tide was out, wandered into the furthest recesses, no doubt curious to ascertain, in these secret solitudes, the peculiar sound of his romantic instrument. Engaged in the delights of his sweet craft, he wandered on and on, none could tell whither, for he never came out ; nor were there ever any tidings of him, save that while the people were at prayers in the church of Ballintoy, and just as the clerk was about giving out the first Psalm, the sound of bagpipes was heard under-ground, and tunes were recognized rising up from beneath, which were rather unsuitable to the solemnity of the place."
VII.
A VISIT to the Causeway is rather a leg-weary business, and admiration is well known to travellers in Italy to be the most effective of tonics. On emerging from the cave and climbing the cliff once more, we were not sorry to find our car-man ready to take us to Bushmills, a mile distant, where we found a most excellent inn, and breakfasted on salmon, very much to the refreshment of our enthusiasm. The day was bright and summery, and in high good spirits we mounted our car towards noon, and took our way to DUN LUCE CASTLE. It was but a mile or two from Bushmills, and before we were well settled in our seats, this finest of ruined castles (I think the most picturesque ruin I ever saw) broke upon us, like an apparition, in the road. Dunluce stands on a perpendicular and insulated rock, the entire surface of which is so completely occupied by the edifice, that the external walls are in continuation with the perpendicular sides of the rock. The walls of the building were never very lofty, but from the great area which they enclosed, contained a considerable number of apartments. One small vaulted room is said to be inha- bited by a Bonshee, whose chief occupation is sweeping the floor. This story ori- ginates in the fact, that the floor is at all times as clean as if it had just then been swept ; but this difficulty can be explained without the introduction of Maw Roi, the fairy, by the fact, that the wind gains admittance through an aperture on a level with the floor, and thus preserves the appearance of cleanliness and freedom from dust, just now described. In the north-eastern end is a small room, actually projecting over the sea, the rocky base having fallen away, and from the door of this apartment there is a giddy view of the sea beneath. The rock on
c.«y,
f" •- ->c secret solitudes,
-...-
for lie never cam> *>••••{«• the people were at pi L» .about giving out the first n-t, and tunes were recogt: '>:•; to the solemnity of the
.jinitioii is well
• nthn-i.tvi.. The
«ur-,car towards
> niili: or two from
»f ruined cnsties
. rtion, in
, -ihc rjitire surface
crnhi walls are in
i s of the building
l-'ved, contained a
»*>• uid to be inha-
'1 orj-
.it had just then
:oth of Maw
Rrn < . small ;
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 49
which the castle stands is not surrounded by water, but is united at the bottom of the chasm to the main land by a ledge of rock a little higher than the surface of the ocean. The castle was entered by a bridge formed in the following manner : — two parallel walls, about eight feet asunder, thrown across the chasm, connected the rock with the main land. Upon these planks were laid crosswise for the admission of visitors, and removed immediately after the passage was effected. At present but one of the walls remains, about thirteen inches in thickness, and the only path- way to the castle is along its summit, over the awful rocky chasm. The distance at which the other parallel wall was placed may be perceived by the traces of its adhesion to the opposite rock.
On the main land, close to the castle, a second collection of similar buildings are seen, erected at a later period by one of the Antrim family, in consequence of the giving way of an apartment on the verge of the rock. Beneath the cliff on which the castle stands, is a cave penetrating completely through from the sea to the rocky basin on the land-side of the castle. It may be entered by a small aperture in the south end, and at low-water there is a good deal of the flooring un- covered, which consists of large round stones ; this form is the consequence of the action of the waves. The sides and roof are of basalt, possessing merely the usual characters ; here also is a very remarkable echo when the surface of the water is unruffled.
Though all accurate knowledge of the date of erection, and name of the foun- der of Dunluce Castle are completely lost, yet the history of its proprietors for the last few centuries is extremely interesting, and affords a very characteristic account of the state of society in the feudal periods of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It has been conjectured that De Courcy, Earl of Ulster, originally founded this castle, but the architecture is not of so very ancient a date. In the fifteenth cen- tury it was held by the English ; at which period it seems to have fallen into the hands of a noble English family, called by Camden, M'Willis, from whose hands it passed into the possession of the M'Donalds of the Isles, and to their descend- ants it belongs to this day.
About the year 1580, Colonel M'Donald, brother to James, Lord of Cantyre, came into Ireland with a band of men to assist Tyrconnell against the great O'Neill, with whom he was then at war. In passing through the Rout, he was hospitably received and entertained by M'Quillan, the lord and master of the Rout and Kil- conery. At that time there was a war between M'Quillan and the men of Killiteragh beyond the Bann. On the day when Colonel M'Donald was taking his departure to proceed on his journey to Tyrconnell, M'Quillan, who was not equal in war to his savage neighbours, called together his militia, or gallogloghs, to revenge his affronts over the Bann ; and M'Donald, thinking it uncivil not to offer his services
VOL. i. o
50 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
that day to M'Quillan, after being so kindly treated, sent one of his gentlemen with an offer of assistance in the field. M'Quillan was well pleased with the offer, and declared it to be a perpetual obligation on him and his posterity. So M'Quil- lan and the Highlanders went against the enemy ; and where there was a cow taken from M'Quillan's people before, there were two taken back ; after which M'Quillan and Colonel M'Donald returned with great prey, and without the loss of a man.
Winter then drawing nigh, M'Quillan gave Colonel M'Donald an invitation to stay with him at his castle of Dunluce, advising him to settle there until the spring, and to quarter his men up and down the Rout. This M'Donald gladly accepted ; but in the course of the winter seduced M'Quillan's daughter, and privately married her ; upon which ground the M'Donalds afterwards founded their claim to the M'Quillan's territories. The men were quartered two and two throughout the Rout; that is to say, one of M'Quillan's gallogloghs and a Highlander in every tenant's house. It so happened that the galloglogh, besides his ordinary mess, was entitled to a noggin of milk as a privilege. This the Highlanders esteemed to be a great affront, and at last one of them asked his landlord, " Why don't you give me milk as you give the other ? " The galloglogh immediately made answer, " Would you, a Highland beggar as you are, compare yourself to me or any of M'Quillan'o gallogloghs ?" The poor tenant, heartily tired of both, said, " Come, gentlemen, I'll open the door, and you may go and fight it out in the field, and he that has the victory let him take milk and all to himself." The galloglogh was soon slain in the encounter, after which the Highlander came in and dined heartily. M'Quil- lan's gallogloghs assembled to demand satisfaction ; and, in a council which was held, where the conduct of the Scots was debated, their great power, and the dis- grace arising from the seduction of M'Quillan 's daughter, it was agreed that each galloglogh should kill his comrade Highlander by night, and their lord and mas- ter with them ; but M'Donald's wife discovered the plot, and told it to her hus- band. So the Highlanders fled in the night-time, and in attempting to escape into Scotland, were driven into the Island of Raghery.
In 1642, Dunluce Castle was the scene of a villainous act of treachery. In the month of April of that year, General Munroe made a visit to the Earl of Antrim at this castle, and was received with many expressions of joy, and honoured with splendid entertainments ; and further, the earl offered him assistance of men and money to reduce the country to tranquillity. But Munroe, when this was over, seized on the earl's person, and put the other castles of his lordship into the hands of the Marquis of Argyle's men. He conveyed the earl to Carrickfergus, and imprisoned him in the castle, but from this he soon effected his escape, and withdrew to England. There are, of course, numerous traditions connected with Dunluce, but I had not
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 51
time to inquire them out among the people, and it has been well done by that fruit-gathering traveller, Cesar Otway, whose description of a visit to Dunluce I subjoin.
" It was as fine a morning as ever fell from heaven when we landed at Dunluce, not a cloud in the sky, not a wave on the water; the brown basaltic rock, with the towers of the ancient fortress that capped and covered it — all its grey bastions and pointed gables lay pictured on the incumbent mirror of the ocean ; every thing was reposing — every thing so still, that nothing was heard but the flash of our oars and the song of Alick M'Mullen, to break the silence of the sea. We rowed round this peninsular fortress, and then entered the fine cavern that so curiously perforates the rock, and opens its dark arch to admit our boat. He must, indeed, have a mind cased up in all the common-place of dull existence, who would not while within this cavern and under this fortress, enter into the associations con- nected with the scene ; who could not hold communings with the ' Genius Soci.' Fancy I know called up for me the war-boats and the foemen, who, either issued from, or took shelter in this sea-cave. I imagined, as the tide was growling amidst the far recesses, that I heard the meanings of chained captives, and the huge rocks around must be bales of plunder, landed and lodged here, and I took an interest, and supposed myself a sharer in the triumphs of the fortunate, and the helpless- ness of the captive, while suffering under the misery that bold bad men inflicted in troubled times, when the M'Quillans of the Rout, and the M'Donnels of the Glyns, either gained or lost this debateable strong-hold. Landing in this cavern, we passed up through its land side entrance towards the ruin : the day had become exceeding warm, and going forth from the coolness of the cave into the sultry atmosphere, we felt doubly the force of the sun's power — the sea-birds had retreated to their distant rocks — the goats were panting under the shaded ledges of the cliffs — the rooks and chaughs, with open beaks and drooping wings, were scat- tered over the downs, from whose surface they arose with a quivering undulating motion ; we were all glad for a time to retire to where, under the shade of the projected cliff, a cold, clear spring offered its refreshing waters.
" Reader, surely you cannot be at a loss for a drawing or print of Dunluce Cas- tle ; take it now I pray you in hand, and observe with me the narrow wall that con- nects the ruined fortress with the main land ; see how this wall is perforated, and without any support from beneath, how it hangs there, bearing time and tempest, and still needing no power of arch, simply by the power of its own cemented ma- terial; the art of man could not make such another self-supported thing, it is about eighteen inches broad, just the path of a man, do not fear to cross it, rest assured it wont tumble with you, it has borne many a better man, so come on, who's afraid ? — ' I really cannot bring myself to venture,' was the reply of both my
52 8CEKERY OF 1KKI.AM).
companions. ' Sit ye down then, ye giddy-headed cockneys, and bask your day in the sun, Alick and I will step across and visit the Baushee.' So, with the greatest ease, we tripped across : Carrick-a-Rede is seventy times more fearful. ' And now, Mr. M'Mullen, as you and I have this old place to ourselves, come show me every thing, and tell me all about it.' ' With the greatest pleasure in life, sir," says Alick, ' for it gave me joy to see a gentleman like you, hopping like a jack- daw over that bit of a wall ; and indeed many a good one comes here like yon, gentleman and lady, who I believe have their skulls full of what they call nerve, instead of sensible steady brains.' ' Well, Alick, beyond a doubt this is a fine old place.' ' Why then, sir, it's you that may say that, for many a battle and bloody head was about it in good old fighting times, when fighting and fun were all one in merry Ireland.' ' Come then, Alick, tell me some of this fighting fun that the good old happy people you speak of enjoyed here in Dunluce.' ' And does it become me to tell your honour of the wars of Dunluce ? why I thought as how with your black coat and spatterdashes, you might be a scholar — besides, as you intend to see the Causeway, and the Cave, and Pleaskin, it may be your honour wont have time to hear all I have to tell you about the M'Quillans and M'Don- nells, and Surly Boy and Captain Merriman — but, at any rate, I'll tell you, in short, about the boat-race, whereby this castle was won and lost, when the M'Quillans and M'Donnells contended for it in the presence of the King of Scotland, and agreed to leave their right to the issue of a row from Isla to Dunluce — he who first touched the land was to have the castle as his prize ; so they started on just such a day as this, wind and wave agreed to sit still and let the oarmen have fair play — and to be sure it was they who rowed for honour and glory as for life, and the M'Quillans prayed enough for St. Patrick, and the M'Donnells to Columkill of the Isles, and neither, you may be sure, spared the spirits — for it's hard to say whether John Highlandman, or Pat of the green hills, is better at that work ; but, at any rate, on they came, beautiful and abreast, like two swans cutting, with white bosoms, the green waters ; and now it was pull Paddy, and now it was pull Sandy, and none on the shore could tell for their lives which was foremost ; but at any rate, the Irish boys shouted enough, and prayed enough for the M'Quillans ; and now, sir, they were within stone's throw, and now almost within oar's length, when what do you think my Scotchman did ? For never put it past canny Sawney, all the world over, for getting the better of others ; and if he fails at fair beating, he'll not pass by cheating : so it was here. The two chiefs were each at their boat's bow, and M'Quillan had his long arm outstretched, and M'Donnell held his lochabar axe in his hand, and all at once laying his left wrist on the gunwale before him, he slashed at it with his hatchet; severed it at a blow, and while it was spinning out blood, he flung it with all his force against the rock ; and do you see where that sea-parrot
l\
is now jjerched, on that bird'&riu: mark is said to be there,: though;
Such wa> the cry of Mi Irish gave if \n fnvoiir ( prize, and Jung and in Irishman, and to thi<
Lemuel Cc Wexford.
sulated by cally OQ to
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 53
is now perched, on that bird's-nest ledge, there the bleeding hand lay, and the red mark is said to be there, though I have never seen it, unto this very day.
' Huzza for M'Donnell, Dunluce is our own, For spite of M'Quillan, the castle is won.'
Such was the cry of the Scotchmen as they landed, and so it was that even the Irish gave it in favour of the foreigner, who, at the expense of his limb, won the prize, and long and many a day the Scotchmen held it, until he became a good Irishman, and to this hour you may see a bloody hand painted in the middle of Lord Antrim's coat-of-arms."
VIII.
FROM Dunluce we travelled southward to Coleraine, a remarkably neat and pretty town, and thence by Limavady to Londonderry, a part of Ireland abounding in rural beauty, and wearing more the look of England than any other that I had seen. From the hill by which we descended to Berry, the view was like one of an illumi- nated city, several large factories, with a bright light streaming from every window, standing opposite to us, and the hill within the walls showing apparently a light in every house. We entered the city over a bridge, built by a townsman of my own, Lemuel Cox, of Boston, United States, another of whose bridges I had crossed at Wexford. This over the Foyle is a wooden structure, one thousand and sixty-two feet in length, and considered here a great curiosity.
Londonderry occupies the sides and summit of a steep promontory, almost penin- sulated by a noble sweep of the smooth, deep Foyle, whose waters glide majesti- cally on towards a broad estuary, where they are mingled with the ocean. The old town is included within the walls, and entered by the ancient gates, still entire, while the gradual increase of population and commercial prosperity have occasioned an extension of the city avenues to a distance beyond them. The steepness of the ascent from the water's edge to the summit of the hill, particularly up the Ship- Quay Street, is so great, as to be nearly impracticable by carriages, or, at all events, to be highly dangerous ; and they tell a tale of the respectable inhabitants of this old-fashioned street, that when they visited each other in the winter-season, their
VOL. i. p
54 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
passage was accomplished by self-moving sledges ; a form turned upside down having once conveyed a group returning from an evening party, in safety and with expedition, to the foot of the hill. The Diamond, so the central square, or market- place, is generally called, is the regulating point from which the other streets ema- nate ; and here the town-hall and reading-rooms are erected. Some of the build- ings appropriated to the public business are handsome ; all are spacious and con- venient. The court-house, a fine elevation in the Grecian style, is after a design by Bowden ; the principal front displays much grandeur and beauty, but the lateral entrances and fronts are in a very inferior manner. The old palace, the grammar- school, and lunatic asylum, possess no architectural elegance, but are built after liberal and useful designs. On the apex of the hill of Derry stands the church, which is both parochial and capitular : it is a venerable structure, in the pointed style, with h'nials and graduated battlements, but, incongruously enough as a cathe- dral, finished with a tower and spire. Within are preserved standards, and trophies, and other relics of the bravery of their ancestors, and of the memorable defence made by the citizens.
Early in the reign of James I., a considerable part of the province of Ulster was vested in the crown, by the attainder of the Roman Catholic families of dis- tinction, and a colonization of the forfeited estates was then suggested to the king by the lord-treasurer, Salisbury. His majesty, conceiving the city of London to be the best qualified to effect so great an object, on the 28th of January, 1609, permitted an agreement to be entered into, between commissioners for the city, and the lords of the privy council, whereby the towns and liberties of Derry and Cole- raine, with the " salmon and eel fisheries of the rivers Bann and Foyle, and all other kind of fishing in the river Foyle, so far as the river floweth, and in the Bann to Lough Neagh, should be in perpetuity to the city;" that the liberties of Lon- donderry should extend three miles every way ; with numerous other privileges and conditions, included in twenty-seven articles of agreement. In 1613, the society of the new plantation of Ulster was incorporated ; and from this date Derry has been the property of the city of London.
In the wars of William and James, Derry, from the number of its Protestant in- habitants, was looked on with suspicion by one party, and partiality by the other. Hither the Protestants of the north retreated as to a sanctuary ; and the improvi- dent precaution of Lord Tyrconnel, in withdrawing Mountjoy's regiment from the place, produced the unhappy effect of augmenting the breach between the con- tending parties. The lord-deputy had directed that Lord Antrim's regiment, con- sisting wholly of Roman Catholics, men " tall and terrible of aspect," should immediately take up their quarters here, and overcome the Protestants of the north; but dilatoriness in the execution of his measures, and the advance of the ferocious-
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 55
looking body being communicated to the citizens, by Philips, of Newtown Lima- vady, the gates were closed against the advanced-guard that had arrived within three hundred yards of the walls.
In the history of the siege of Derry, the particulars of the closing of the gates are thus given. " A letter was dropt at Cumber, in the county of Down, where the Earl of Mount Alexander resided, dated December 3d, 1688, informing that nobleman, that on Sunday, the 9th of that month, the Irish throughout the whole island, in pursuance of an oath which they had taken, were to rise and massacre the Protestants, men, women, and children, and warning him to take particular care of himself, as a captain's commission would be the reward of the man who would murder him." There was no name subscribed to this letter, and the bad writing and low style of it, seemed to argue that it was penned by one of the lowest of the natives.
A copy of this letter was sent by William Coningham, Esq., from Belfast, en- closed in one of his own, to George Canning, Esq., of Garvagh, in the county of Londonderry. Mr. Canning, whose father had been cruelly murdered at his own house in that place, on the commencement of the massacre of 1641, sent this letter with the utmost expedition to Alderman Tomkins, in Derry, according to the strict inj unctions of Mr. Coningham. A gentleman meeting with this messenger on the way, was informed of the contents of the despatches, and sent the information to George Philips, of Newtown Limavady, on the 6th of December, on which day a part of the Earl of Antrim's new regiment arrived there on its way to Londonderry. Mr. Philips, then in his ninetieth year, with a promptness to be expected in a veteran highly distinguished through the whole of the preceding civil wars, sent a messen- ger at midnight to the city, with an account of what had been communicated to him, and to acquaint his friends there what description of guests they were likely to have on the ensuing day. He wrote to them, that instead of six or eight com- panies of Irish Papists and Scottish Highlanders of the same religion, as had been reported, this regiment consisted of about double the number, attended by a multi- tude of women and boys.
At an early hour next morning, Mr. Philips sent another messenger to London- derry, expressing his increased apprehension of the consequences of suffering this regiment to enter the city, and advising the citizens to look to their safety. The messenger, who was charged with the delivery of the letter, told them, that he had left some of the foremost companies within two miles of the town, the rest being on their way.
The Protestant inhabitants were terrified ; several of them assembled in groups through the streets. The APPRENTICE BOYS, with a mob of the lower orders along with them, muttered something about shutting the gates ; they got some
56 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
private encouragement to do so at first, but that was soon retracted, and the minds of all the men of weight fluctuated in a miserable doubt of the most prudent course to take. In the meantime two companies of the unwelcome regiment arrived at the waterside, commanded by a lieutenant and an ensign. The officers, leaving their men there, were ferried over, and waited on the deputy- mayor and the sheriffs, with their authority for demanding admission. John Buchannan, the deputy, a man secretly devoted to the interest of James, had no objection to give the regiment the most honourable reception; but Horace Kennedy, one of the sheriffs, had given the APPRENTICE BOYS a secret hint during the preceding night, and they were at hand, prepared to shut the gates against the regiment. While they were in some consultation with each other on the subject, the Irish soldiers, impatient at the delay of their officers, or having, it is thought, some intimation of the nature of the reception intended for them, and a strong desire to frustrate it, crossed the river, and appeared on the land- ing-place, about three hundred yards from the ferry-gate. The young men of the city observing this, about eight or nine of them, whose names deserve to be pre- served iu letters of gold, viz., HENRY CAMPSIE, WILLIAM CROOKSHANKS, ROBERT SHERUAKD, DANIEL SHERRARD, ALEXANDER IRWIJJ, JAMES STEWARD, ROBERT MORRISON, ALEXANDER CONINGHAM, SAMUEL HUNT, with JAMES SPIKE, JOHN CONINGHAM, WILLIAM CAIRNS, SAMUEL HARVEY, and some others who soon joined them, ran to the main-guard, seized the keys, after a slight opposition, came to the ferry-gate, drew up the bridges and locked the gate; Lord Antrim's soldiers having advanced within sixty yards of it. They ran to secure the other three gates, and having left guards at each of them, assembled in the market-place.
Eleven days King James continued his assaults with repeated mortifications, and withdrew from the camp with peevishness, observing, that an English army would have brought him the town piecemeal in half that time. The protraction of the siege gave birth to enemies not previously thought of, — famine and disease ; these had just begun to aid the besieger, when a fleet hove in sight, with troops and pro- visions, to assist the reformed cause in Ireland. The enemy, taking advantage of the apparent inactivity of the commander, threw a boom across the Foyle, and in- terrupted the navigation.
The situation of the besieged from this period, became truly deplorable, but the resolution and bravery of its garrison, proved equal to those of the most devoted men that we read of in the history of any nation. Their determination seemed to acquire strength from the increased misery : and, amidst famine and death, one of their governors, Baker, failing from fatigue, they threatened instant destruction to the man who should first advise a surrender. Rosen, who conducted the siege, gave them until the 1st of July to consider ; upon which day, finding the garrison
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 57
still obstinate, he drove a miserable number of Protestants, of all ages and sexes, gathered from the surrounding districts, beneath the walls, who, with true Ro- man fortitude, and like so many Reguluses, besought their countrymen, on bended knees, and with outstretched arms, to disregard their cries, their tortures, and their deaths, and persevere to defend themselves against the basest and most cruel of enemies. The townsmen now erected gallowses on the walls, and threatened to execute their prisoners, if their wretched countrymen were not suffered to escape ; but Rosen persevered, and famine and massacre pursued their cold and devastating way. The Protestant Bishop of Meath now boldly remonstrated with King James, upon the inhuman massacre of the unoffending victims without the walls ; to which his majesty coolly replied, " That such severities were usual in foreign service;" but ordered the sufferers to be released.
Time had now almost effected for the enemy what their military skill and cou- rage were unequal to ; the flesh of horses, dogs, and vermin now constituted the only sustenance of the besieged, and it was calculated that of this miserable food a supply of a few days was all that could be obtained. In this extremity, Walker's courage and presence of mind never for an instant deserted him ; he harangued his brave companions at the crossways, and in his sacred pastoral character addressed them from the pulpit, imploring them to place a firm reliance upon the Almighty Disposer of events. At this critical moment, Kirk, accompanied by his fleet, reap- peared below the town, and manifested a determination to attempt its relief. Two provision-ships, convoyed by the Dartmouth frigate, approached the city, within view of the half-famished garrison that manned the walls, and reached the boom, the eventful spot, under a heavy fire of musketry, and discharge of can- non from the enemy. All eyes were now intent ; the arm of the soldier was sus- pended for a moment from its work of destruction, while he hearkened to the heavy sound of the victualling-ship striking against the boom, the final proclamation of death or victory. She dashed with giant strength against the barrier, and broke it in two ; but from the violence of the shock, rebounded and ran upon the river's bank. The satisfaction of the enemy was displayed by an instantaneous burst of tumultuous joy: they ran with disorder to the shore, prepared to board her, when the vessel, firing a broadside, was extricated by the shock, and floated out nobly into the deep again. During the short interval of these momentous events, the feelings of the besieged can only be compared to the criminal — tried, condemned, reprieved : they under- went the trial, they prepared for their sentence with firmness, and they bore the reprieve with the humility that might be expected to belong to such bravery and resolution.
Upon this happy relief the enemy raised the siege and marched to the southward. Two thousand three hundred of the garrison perished in battle, or by famine,
VOL. i. Q
58 SCENERY OP IRELAND.
and of the enemy above eight thousand, during a siege of one hundred and five days.
The walls of Deny are in high preservation, and form a most agreeable prome- nade of, perhaps, a mile in circumference. We walked around them in twenty minutes. There is no street around the interior of the walls, but the houses are in many places backed against them. The view over the Foyle and the country be- yond, from that part on which stands the PILLAK erected to the memory of the he- roic clergyman, WALKER, is exceedingly fine. Walker's Pillar is a Doric column, eighty feet in height, and finished with a cupola, surmounted by a statue of the patriot, with his arm outstretched, the base of the column surrounded by the can- non used in the defence of the city. Derry is a clean and handsome town, with a general look of thrift and order. We saw no beggars in the streets, and no signs of the extreme poverty which disfigures the aspect of most towns in Ireland.
The road from Derry to Enniskillen follows the Foyle for a considerable dis- tance, and a most lovely river it is — the deficiency of wood on its shores alone proving an exception to the variety of its beauties. Coasting the. northern side of Lough Erne, the traveller arrives at Enniskillen, the chief town of Fermanagh, and the most important in the north-west district of Ireland. The town stands on an elevated island, formed by the branching of the river Erne, in its progress from the upper to the lower lake. Though it cannot boast of high antiquity, (says Fraser, in his excellent Guide Book to Ireland,) it may fairly claim what is of far more im- mediate importance — a comparatively well-built, well-arranged, and well-governed town, a steady trade, and many respectable inhabitants.
The environs of Enniskillen are very interesting, as well from the naturally rich and broken character of the country, as from its comparative improvement. Two miles from the town, in the entrance to the Lower Lough Erne, stands DEVENISH ISLAND, the most important of the " three hundred and sixty-five islands," said to dot the bosom of this lovely lake. Most of the other islets present a green and cheerful picture to the eye, but Devenish, says the author of The Story of a Life, " has a deader, duller, paler look than any other of the islets of the lake." A writer, in the Dublin Penny Journal demurs to this description, and declares the island to be remarkably fertile, and, of course, cheerful in its aspect. The ruins of a supposed monastery, of an ancient abbey, and the cell of a venerable man, stand near the centre of this lonely isle, while the tall shaft of the ancient pillar-tower raises its grey height " like a mountain of some patient and abiding grief." Around this place of silence and of ruin, reminiscences of mortality lie scattered, in a way but little grateful to the living; the rude stones that lie upon the graves around, so stained with weather, and time-decayed, and overgrown with rank-weeds, that they are scarcely approachable, and thus their legends are lost. The crypt of the foun-
••:>"»• of on« hundred and five
•rm a most agreeable prorne-
ilked around them in twenty
<• wails, but the houses are in
ir: J-VwIe.and the country be-
tt-il to rhe mi-inory of the he-
Uwi 's >t Doric column,
^v a statue of the
••i'!M;i'..i :.., the can-
.." • .'iii'.' t .\vn, with a
• • '•• • t; y ncli
•»,,:nt. Tw-
•»• DEVE.MSH
'is," said to
i tcrcen and
•jry of a Life,
: rhe, lake.1* A
!•-•!». and declares the
• , •• rt. The ruins of
;i venerable tuan, Stand
f thl antient pillar-tower
•• m.<-! abiding grief." Around
mortality 7!C »c;ittered, in ti way
it lie upon th«? graves arom
tpwn u-ith ru :k-w
»re lost 'l"he crypt of
(Y
' \ I
der stnixta roo closed : .is bin
piles. In n£,j
to the ft'unduiiiiiji.of Chr sullied 'iv Uis toii^iu iT
The funeral orati ball of the chiel virtues of the d daughters? O* (olden valley.'"* vt:il)ul portion of
much less -ec
SCENERY OP IRELAND. 59
der stands roofless amidst this scene of decay, and the stone coffin that once en- closed his breast, is firmly buried in the earth beside it. There is a veneration, a religious feeling, or perhaps a superstition, attached to Devenish and its ruined piles. In no country of Europe is more tenderness expressed for the loss of rela- tives and kindred, or so much posthumous affection manifested in the respect paid to their remains. Perhaps it is imagined that those who flourished at an age nearer to the foundation of Christianity were necessarily more holy, and that the stream is sullied by the length of its course ? Whatever be the cause, the veneration for an- cient cemeteries, crosses, and ecclesiastical ruins, is unconfined.
The sadness of a funeral procession is so characteristic of this consecrated isle, which melancholy has marked peculiarly her own, that its introduction in the ac- companying view does scarcely draw upon the imagination.
The insular position of the cemetry renders the funeral ceremony sometimes in- secure. The sorrowing friends, accompanied by those who deplore, in strains both loud and long, the loss sustained by the surviving relative, proceed to some place of embarkation, and thence set sail, in barks of frail materials, for the holy isle. The antiquity of this custom, not only in Ireland but amongst the Romans, Greeks, and Hebrews, is indisputable. " The mourners go about the streets," has an ob- vious reference to persons analogous to the professional Reeners in Ireland. The Romans had their " prseficae mulieres," who, " with dishevelled locks," led on the melancholy parade of death ; and Homer frequently alludes to this ceremony in describing the last rites of his most conspicuous heroes :
and again,
" The pious maids their mingled sorrows shed, And mourn the living Hector as the dead."
Alternately they sing, alternate flow
The obedient tears, melodious in their woe."
The funeral oration, or song, was anciently composed by the bard, who dwelt in the hall of the chieftains, and contained, in its elegiac numbers, a catalogue of the virtues of the deceased. " O why did he die, who had so many sons and fair daughters ? O why did he die, who was lord of the hill and the dale, and the golden valley?" &c. ; such wild effusions formerly, and even now, constitute the verbal portion of the elegiac lamentation, called " The Irish Cry."
The boats that navigate the smooth surface of Lough Erne, are seldom capable of conveying more than ten or twelve persons, and those that can be procured for hire are much less secure than others. Some twenty years since, a party, too numerous for a vessel of such dimensions and construction, embarked with the remains of
60 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
one who, in life, had been dear to all around, to pay the last sad honour to his name. The reverend companion of their voyage advised and exhorted to lighten the bark, before they entered on the treacherously smiling surface of the deep, and rinding all remonstrances vain, himself leaped out into the shallows and returned to shore. For a few minutes, and a few only, the incautious crew proceeded towards the island, when fate, enveloped in a gust of wind, struck suddenly against the boat, and hurried thirty poor victims into the depths of the lake.
The places of embarkation are the promontory of Portora,* at the foot of the eminence on which the endowed school stands, and Tully Devinish on the south- west side. At this latter point, in an old orchard, is shown a rock of about four tons weight ; thrown hither from the island by a famous friar, M'Comhal, the Friar of Devinish, the same who leaped also from his monastery over to Derry Inch.
A curious relic, called Molais's Bed, already mentioned, possesses virtues of an unique description, and is a prophetic touchstone of that one's future fate who has the intrepidity to make the experiment. This is done by reclining in the bed : some are relieved of pains in the back by the merit of the stone ; and for those whose figures precisely fit to the dimensions, brighter prospects are reserved. The lid of the saint's coffin, a stone six feet two inches in length, lies at the eastern end of the lower church, and has hitherto been incorrectly noticed as the shaft of a cross.
Of the monastic remains, that called " The Upper Church" is the most perfect and the most modern, or probably has been re-edified at a later period. The base- ment story of the tower is grained, and in the ceiling are two apertures, coeval with the building, through which bell-ropes were formerly passed. A small pointed doorway leads to a spiral staircase, by which the battlements of the tower are reached. The masonry, sculpture it might almost be called, is very remarkable. The angles of the architraves being delicately fluted, and finished equally at top as at bottom, produce an effect both light and graceful. At the height of five feet from the floor, and adjoining the entrance to the belfry, is a mural tablet, bearing an inscription in ancient characters. There is a second door-way in the south wall, with an ornamental architrave, above which, in a canopied niche, were the arms of the founder, or of some benefactor to the priory. The stone used in the building of the tower is a beautiful gray limestone, susceptible of a high polish ; one of the varieties found in the district adjoining the lake. The nunnery, or lower church, according to the local nomenclator, is of a more ancient date than the priory, and much more dilapidated. The eastern window, still perfect, is rudely executed, and
* The Port of Lamentation.
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 61
divided into three compartments, with lancet heads, and banded on the inside ; and in the southern wall are two circular-headed windows, of later construction, illu- minating a baptistry just below then). The length of the church is eighty-six feet, a fact that in a few years more must be gathered exclusively from the records of its fate. The cell or crypt of the titular saint is wholly unroofed ; the side-walls and gable indicate the strength of the cement used in their erection ; and from the remnants of the stone roof yet visible, the ceiling appears to have been coved and separated by a void from an exterior angular roof, also of stone, in the manner of St. Revier's kitchen at Glendalough.
The religious institutions on Devinish were originally founded by Lasreau, also denominated St. Molaisse. Although a man of acknowledged piety, and eminent for learning, his biography is but imperfectly known. He was a native of Carberry, near Sligo, and the son of Natfraich. Educated in the celebrated seminary of Clonard, at an early age he withdrew to this island, where he erected a monastery that continued to be famous through many succeding ages. He was established there previous to the departure of Columbkill from Ireland, in 567 ; he drew up a rule for his followers, received the visit of St. Aldus of Kildare and other holy men, and was so much esteemed that ecclesiastical writers have supposed, or pre- tended, that he sat for some time in the see of Clogher. The year of his death is not precisely ascertained ; it is assigned by some authors to 563, by others post- poned to 570 ; but the day of his decease, the 12th of September, being well at- tested, was for many years observed as a festival upon the island. The upper and lower churches possessed the advantage of a bell suspended in each, for many years, but at the suppression it was directed that they should be carried to the cathedral of Armagh. Boats were procured for the purpose, and the bell of the upper church was conveyed safely to shore, and carried to the place of its desti- nation ; but the boat in which was Molaisse's bell sunk, with its consecrated load, to the bottom, and has never since been seen or recovered. If a day can influence a deed, it may have done so in this instance, the 12th of September, St. Molaisse's festival, having been the date of the singular occurrence. Molaisse was succeeded by Natalis, the son of jEngusius, King of Munster, and we are informed that the monastery was plundered of its wealth by the Danes in the year 962.
The walls of Devenish tower are built of hewn stone ; those in the external sur- face cut into truncated wedges, and some of those used within being neatly hol- lowed. The mortar has fallen away from the external surface of the walls, but within retains its general tenacity. At a height of twelve feet, above the door- way, there is a window with a pointed head, formed by two flags leaning against each other ; and a little higher, but not i the same right line, is a second window exactly square. In the upper story are four windows, (usual in all the others,) cor-
VOL. i. H
62
SCENERY OF IRELAND.
responding to the cardinal points, and above each a key-stone, ornamented with a human head. A projecting course, resembling a block cornice, is carried along the top, and supports a conical cap, or roof, formed by gradually diminishing courses, terminated by a bell-shaped cap-stone. The inside is smooth, and exactly finished, having projecting rests, either meant to support floors, or occasioned by the gradual decrease in the thickness of the walls as they ascend.
Devinish occupies an area of seventy acres, of rich and productive soil. It sus- tains black cattle, whose approach is almost facilitated by the intervention of the waters through which they are compelled to swim, and sheep, carried over in flat- bottomed boats. A herdsman and his family constitute the population of this ro- mantic abode, and the little cultivation their necessities require varies the tame character of the surface. Devinish had long been the property of the Rynd family, but by the union of the heiress of their house with the grandfather of Sir Edward Denny, of Kerry, it passed to the present owner, to whom it produces a rent of one hundred and ten pounds per annum.
IX.
THE road from Enniskillen and Devinish island to BALLYSHANNON skirts the southern shore of Lough Erne, and by ascending the many hills which rise on the left, the traveller easily commands views of the lake, which more than repay him for his trouble. Ballyshannon is beautifully situated at the outlet of the river Erne into Donegal Bay, the debouchure into the tide-inlet being accomplished over a ledge of rocks sixteen or eighteen feet above the level of the tide. It forms alto- gether a very beautiful bit of scenery. There is little to arrest the traveller or the antiquarian between this and Sligo, the road crossing the heads of the various small bays which indent the coast, and showing on one side constant views of the sea, and, on the other, the towering mountains of Ben-bulben, Benwesky and their brethren.
Sligo lies low, and appears at first to be situated upon a very broad and deep river, the dam across the Garwogue, (which runs through the town from Loch Gill,) preserving its waters from the reflux of the tide. Sligo has a remarkably fine neigh- bourhood of hills, which though wild are very picturesque ; and dirty as the town
•i Bra it of
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r . noes around.- • . StiGo ABBEY m ait MMfl <•• • giiially- erected by -M-tun- 14 it was destroyed by fip- If of architecture. It is a ; ••ml ajjartmentS'. The rirnt fc« altar, also of cut stimc. i(i, rind the othci !«.•!« u^ii . nervation, tbfl hgncts amJ fi tfed our Saviour on tl.c'cr'* »ir;s of O'Connor an^1 'n- .> Button. Tlic steepic
"lave boen am- • ui itr*<ioti and pcnaui
rruwins of skulls, hono, usiil • •>» iog-plac".
SligoisabusyLi'lcpli.;-!., - thuii an •;' 1 1 i, ,\vn ir, tli,,L cidedly improving to.vn. \V •• th<Te is employment foi f!i-' ;»•. • town of a pauper population. d •ui improvement. I saw fewer t. here feet on market-day, when abtu, that a large portion of the not mcrPHPed ifi numbers by ejw the landlords here. They Ju '«•• and allow the tenant to quit. T is, in fact, n-v«t -r *f wct i by an\ li.
'bund at -
-
SCENERY OF IRELAND. 63
is on examination, it forms one excellent feature of the romantic views got from the eminences around.
SLIGO ABBEY is an object well deserving the notice of the antiquary. It was originally erected by Maurice Fitzgerald, lord-justice, about the year 1252. In 1414 it was destroyed by fire, but very shortly afterwards re-erected in the present style of architecture. It is a picturesque ruin of very large dimensions, divided into several apartments. The first has a beautiful window of carved stone, under which is the altar, also of cut stone. Here are two ancient monuments, one bearing date 1616, and the other belonging to one of the O'Connor kings. The latter is in good preservation, the figures and inscriptions being very legible. At the top is repre- sented our Saviour on the cross, and below this, in separate compartments, are the figures of O'Connor and his wife, kneeling, their hands lifted up in the act of sup- plication. The steeple or dome is still entire, supported upon a carved arch or cupola, the inside of which is also carved. Adjoining these are three sides of a square of beautifully carved little arches, of about four feet in height, which seem to have been anciently separated from each other, and probably formed cells for confession and penance. Almost all the little pillars are differently ornamented, and one in particular is very unlike the rest, having a human head cut on the in- side of the arch. There are several vaults throughout the ruins, containing the remains of skulls, bones, and coffins. The abbey and yard are still used as a bury- ing-place.
Sligo is a busy little place, with a large retail trade, and an export trade larger than any other town in that part of Ireland. " It. is," says Mr. Inglis, " a de- cidedly improving town. With the exception of two or three months in the year, there is employment for the people ; and I did not observe many symptoms in the town of a pauper population. In the general aspect of the population, I perceived an improvement. I saw fewer tatters than I had been accustomed to ; and fewer bare feet on market-day, when all wear shoes and stockings who can. I observed also, that a large portion of the men wore clean linen shirts. The poor in Sligo are not increased in numbers by ejectments in the country. This is not the practice of the landlords here. They do not drive for rent or eject; they excuse the arrear, and allow the tenant to quit. This has the appearance, at first sight, of generosity, but it is, in fact, matter of necessity. Exorbitant rents are irrecoverable by driv- ing, or by any other means. How much more rational it would be to lower rents and actually to receive the amount of one's rent-roll.
" I found at Sligo, a considerable change in the dress and manners of the people. Here, I could not discover any traces of Spanish origin. The women were no longer seen with the hoods of their cloaks thrown over their heads ; nor were the men seen with huge top-coats, as in the more south-western parts. The women
61 SCENERY OF IRELAND.
wore caps and bonnets ; and the girls nothing on their heads. There appeared to be much love of dress among all ranks ; and among the lower classes, singular discrepancies. A well-dressed woman might be seen carrying in her arms a baby, decked out in muslin, lace, and ribbon, and by her side, a boy running with bare feet and ragged clothes ; or a girl with a tattered gown, and without shoes and stockings, might display a fine shawl or a handsome frill."
We must quote also Mr. Inglis's account of his visit to LOCH GILL, (or Gilly.) " The chief object of attraction in the neighbourhood of Sligo, is Loch Gilly; a lake which is not sufficiently known to enjoy the reputation it deserves. I hired a boat at Sligo, and ascended the river, through a succession of beautiful scenery, to the domain of tlazlewood, the property of Mr. Wynn. This is a very lovely spot; the views of the lake, from a hundred points, are enchanting ; and, in the disposi- tion of lawn, wood, and shrubbery, taste and art have taken ample advantage of the gifts of nature. Finer evergreens I never saw in the most southern countries. The laurels and bays — grown into great trees — rivalled, if they did not surpass, those of Woodstock or Curraghmore ; and here I again found the arbutus, not, indeed, quite equal in its perfections to the arbutus of Killarney, but not greatly its infe- rior ; and giving to the scenery all that advantage of colouring, which is the boast of Killarney. The timber too, on this domain, is equal to almost any I have seen; and J often found myself pausing before some magnificent ash, oak, elm, or lime, throwing its deep shade across the green amphitheatre, which it seemed to have made for itself.
" But I must not forget Loch Gilly, which indeed it would be difficult to do. The domain of Hazlewood extends over that part of the banks of the river where it widens into the lake, and forms the first promontory. I embarked on the lake on the other side. Loch Gilly is about eight miles long, and from one to two broad, and in the character of beauty, will bear a comparison with any lake in Ireland. Its scenery is not stupendous — scarcely even anywhere bold ; but it is ' beautiful exceedingly.' Its boundaries are not mountains, but hills of sufficient elevation to form a picturesque and striking outline. The hill-sides, which in some places rise abruptly from the water, and which, in others, slope more gently, are covered to a considerable elevation with wood ; and the lake is adorned with twenty-three islands, almost every one of them finely wooded. Here too, as well as on Hazlewood domain, I found that the arbutus is not confined to Killarney. The extent of Loch Gilly is highly favourable to its beauty. The eye embraces at once its whole length and breadth ; the whole circumference of its shores ; all their varieties and con- trasts at once ; all its islands. One charm is not lost in the contemplation of an- other, as in a greater lake: the whole is seen at once and enjoyed. I remained many hours on Loch Gilly, rowing here and there, or not moving at all ; landing on
i. There appeared to >wer classes, e in her ar9is a baby, by running with bare A without shoes and
* (JILL, (or Gilly.) a Loch Ciilly ; a
• - rvu.-,. I hired a beautiful scenery, to «.•> ii very lovely spot ; ; iiJid, in the disposi-
iiot surpass, those Hiiu.S not, indeed, >t uTcatly its infe- u-li is the boast of
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'o two broad,
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