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IRELAND
PICTURESQUE AND ROMANTIC.

By LEITCH RITCHIE, Esq.

WITH NINETEEN ENGRAVINGS,

rilOM DTlAWiyGS BY

D. M'CLISE, Esq. A.R.A,, and T. CRESWICK, Esq.

LONDON:
LONGMAN, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, AND
LONGMANS. 1838.

IIAnDDN, CASTLE STREET, FINSBUHY.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The present volume concludes the vi'ork on Ireland,
which it has been attempted to render as complete a
picture as possible of the country and its inhabitants. To
do this it was necessary to go somewhat at large into
various topics not usually discussed at the drawing-room
table ; but it is one of the author's theories, that the ex
clusion of such topics arises from the sullen pride of the
men, and by no means from ignorance, or want of womanly
sympathy in the other sex.
Perhaps it will not be thought improper to mention here,
that the attempt to add to the general stock of knowledge
has always been a distinctive feature of the Picturesque
Annual. Other books of the same class, however high the
tact and talent they may display, are merely compilations,
made up in the form of imaginary travels ; while tlie present
work consists of narratives of real tours performed by the
author. These already comprehend some of the most
interesting portions of the Tyrol, the Lombard- Venetian

IV ADVERTISEMENT.
kingdom, Sardinia, Switzerland, Baden, Darmstadt, France,
Belgium, Holland, Denmark, and Russia. The scene of
the last two volumes has been Ireland ; and, for the sake of
bringing in every possible variety, that of the next will
include the whole course of the romantic Wye, the pride of
England, and supposed by foreign travellers to be unique
in Europe.
It may easily be imagined that the author does not make
the above explanation, as if taking any merit to himself for
performing so delightful a task as that of visiting, in person,
the scenes he describes ; but he thinks it is not overstepping
his duty, to endeavour, by this means, to draw attention to
the liberaKty, enterprize, and public spirit of the proprietor.
It may be added, vnth reference to a report circulated last
year, that the artist, also, has in every case made his drawings
upon the spot — even when in order to do this it was neces
sary to travel through Russia.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
A preliminary chapter, which may be skipped over as easily as a preface— Signs of the
Times — Connexion between the Physical Constitution of Man and Political Freedom —
Hunger in all times the great Ring-leader — The real Turbulence of Ireland comparative
Passiveness — Explanation — Slight Connexion between the Physical Condition of Man
and the Moral Virtues — Exemplified in the Character of the Irish Peasant — Both sides
of the Medal — The People of Ireland who and what they are— Unfailing Test of an Agi
tator's Honesty or Talent — Mischievous Delusion of mistaking the Thousands for the
People, and the Millions for Nobody — Exemplified in Poland— Russia— Apology of a
Political Heretic . . . . . . 1
CHAPTER II.
Appearance of the country north of Dublin — Drogheda — The Broken Heart — Subterra
nean Temple — Dundalk — Brutal Inhumanity of a Landlord— Ne wry — Geographical
Causes of Prosperity — Employment not the sole want of Ireland— Necessity of a Poor
Law — Effects of the present System of Relief— Inapplicability of the Scottish System to
Ireland — Mendicants and Pauper Peasants — Habitual Abstinence of the Irish — Their
fixed position with regard to Food and its Moral and Physical Consequences — Irish
meaning of the word Destitution— The Irishman in England and the Englishman in
Ireland — Foundation of the Author's opinion on the Poor-Law Question — Great na
tional Benefits unconnected with Pauperism which may be expected IVom the Introduc
tion of the Union Workhouse System . . , . , . 10
CHAPTER III.
Newry — Bay of Carlingford — Moume Mountains — Abyss of the Parricide — Sliere Donard
— Creeping Mountain — Druidical Altar — Downpatrick — Reward of Treason — Danish
Fort — St. Patrick's Well— Ceremonial of the Struel Pilgrimage— Extraordinary Delu
sion—Traditional Origin of the Sacred Well— Strangford Lough— Grey Abbey— Settle
ment of Ulster— Condition of the People . . 34
CHAPTER IV.
Belfast — Character of the People — Religio-political Dissensions — Other indications —
Belfast Lough— Carrickfergus— Account of Thurot, the French invader— Description
of the Castle . . , . .54
CHAPTER V.
Lame — Island Magee — The Gobbins — Superstitions of the People — Witches— Fairies— '
Brownies— Banshee— Wraiths— Waming Signs— Evil Eye— Superstitions relating to the
Daily Occupations— Priests and Ministers— The Dead— A pious Traveller— Road to
Glenarm— The Castle— The Bay— Road to Cushendall— Vale of Glenariflf- Traits of
Character ...... . , . f».^
CHAPTER VL
Cushendall— Remarkable hill— Cushendun— Caverns of Red Bay— Paddy Mackay's kil-
chen — The Stocking-knitter — Passage of the Carey Mountain — Dinner at a Shebeen—
Learning of the Irish peasantry — Ballycastle — Smuggling Anecdote — Knocklead — Cairn
of the Three—Black Nun of Bona Margy— Ruined Castles . . .78
CHAPTER VII.
Bay of Bally castle— First View of Fairhead— Question of Sublimity— Erroneousness of
preconceived notions — Coaleries — Singular Discovery — Perilous position of the Ex
plorers-Summit of the Promontory— Sensations on looking down the Precipice— Re
markable Anecdote— The Grey Man's Path— Secrets of the Mountain— Descent by the
Chasm— Natural Ruins at the bottom . ... - 91

VI CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VIII.
Conversation with a small Farmer— Condition of the People— Landlords— Priests and
Parsons— Tithes— Tme nature of the tax— History of ecclesiastical imposts— Eff'ects of
tlie Reformation— Anglican Church— Dissenters— Catholics— Anglican Church in Ire
land — Proposal— Appropriation of tithes to the purpose of education . ¦ 101
CHAPTER IX.
Peculiarities of the Causeway Region— Carrick -a -rede and its Swinging Bridge — Charges
of the Guides— Trait of Character — The Giant's Causeway— Tradition of its Origin-
Cave of Portcoon— Port-na-Spania— Pleaskin— Bushmills-T-Harvest— The Irish of the
Seventeenth Century— Of the Sixteenth— Of the Nineteenth— Unhappy Analogy . 122
CHAPTER X.
Dunluce Castle— Anecdote of its capture— Change of Scenery- Coleraine— Salmon Fish
eries—Condition of the Inhabitants— Lamentable Disunion— A Bagman's Notion of the
Irish— Newtown -lima vady—O'Cahan's Castle— Anecdote— Dungiven and its Ruins-
Condition of the People— Elopements— Instance of Conjugal Infidelity— Abuse of the
local custom of Eloping to be Married— Approach to Londonderry— The City 130
CHAPTER XL
Strabane- Stranorlan— Gap of Bamosmore— Singularity of the Country— Donegal— De
scription of the Old Castle— Theatrical aspect of the Bay— Pilgrimage to Lough Dergh—
Route to Ballyshannon— Lough Erne— Travelling Exaggerations— Devenish Island—
EnniskiUen . - 153
CHAPTER XII.
Singular boundaries of Leitrim and Sligo— Situation of Sligo— Effect of Colour on the
picture— Sligo during the pestilence— Business of the town— Advantage derived from the
Scottish Banking System— Library— Lands and Rents— Condition of the People on the
western coast— Anecdote— Road to Boyle— Stupidity of the Peasants— The Shannon—
The Deserted Village— Athlone and its Anarchy— Personal adventure . 167
CHAPTER XIII.
Specimen of an Irish blunder— Shannon Harbour- Singular Rules of the Canal-boat—
Characteristics of the Shannon— Banagher— Ruins of Meeleck Abbey— Portumna— The
Fair— The Irish Jig— Physiognomical Notices- Lough Derg—Killaloe— Rapids of the
Shannon— Castle Cornwall— The treacherous Guest— To Limerick . 184
CHAPTER XIV.
Limerick and its Three Quarters— Inhabitants— Female beauty— Catholic Churches in
Ireland— Influence of the Priests— Clergymen— Learning of the Priesthood— Anecdote—
The Poor of Limerick— Colloquy with the Rich and the Idle— Difficulty in working
Miracles— Projected Workhouses— Opposition of Mr. O'Connell . . 195
CHAPTER XV.
Revolution in Manners— Progress of Democracy— History of the Struggle— Proofs— Sir
Francis Burdett and Mr. O'Connell— Degradation of Literature— Convergence of the
two extremes of society— A Dream of the Future— The Crisis— Impossibility of Revo
lution in England— Delenda est Carthago ... . 208
CHAPTER XVI.
The Shannon below Limerick— Tarbert to Tralee— Physiognomy and Phrenology— O'Con-
nell's Country— The Agitator and the Viceroy— First View of Killamey— The Town
and the Lake . . ... . 223
CHAPTER XVII.
Scene-painting wim the pen and pencil— Situation of Killamey— Ross Island-Killamey
Echoes— The last Prince of the Lakes— Innisfallen— The Arbutus Tree- Points of View
—Gap of Dunloe, and the Black Valley— Atmospheric Phenomena— Mucross— River to
the Upper Lake— Eagle's Nest— Killamey to KenmareGlengariff— Bantry Bay— Blar
ney Castle .... . . . 232

LIST OF ENGRAVINGS.

Carmckfehgus Castle

•

PAGE. 59

Faiuhead

92

Dunluce Castle .

139

Londonderry

151

Irish Market Girl

1.54
Donegal Castle
158
Ballyshannon
...
163
Lower Lough Erne
. TITLE PAGE. .
166
The Irish Jig
.
190
Killaloe on the Shanxon ....
192
A Lady at Prayers
. FRONTISPIECE.
199
Lower Lake of Killarney ....
231
The Gap of Dunloe
.
241
CoMME DhUV, or the
Dark Valley
242
Turk Mountain
.
247
M'Gilliouddy'e Reeks
AND THE Upper Lake of Killarney
248
Glbngariff

263
Bantry Bay
.
266
Waterloo Bridge, Cork ....
258
IRELAND.

CHAPTER I.

A preliminary chapter which may be skipped over as easily as a pre
face — Signs of the Times — Connexion between the physical Consti
tution of Man and Political Freedom — Hunger in all times the great
Ring-leader — The real Turbulence of Ireland comparative Passive
ness — Explanation — Slight Connexion between the physical Con
dition of Man and the Moral Virtues — Exemplified in the Cha
racter of the Irish Peasant — Both sides of the Medal — The People
of Ireland who and what they are — Unfailing Test of an Agitator's
Honesty or Talent — Mischievous Delusion of mistaking the Thou
sands for the People, and the Millions for Nobody — Exemplified in
Poland — Russia — Apology of a Political Heretic.

I SIT down to give an account of a tour of ob
servation in the northern and western counties of
Ireland, without any of the misgivings which at
tended my task of last year. It turned out that the
volume I then published was not, too grave, or too

IRELAND.

stern, or too true for the drawing-room. The
moral pictures I thought it my duty to intermingle
and contrast with the others, were not found repul
sive because of their mournfulness. The book was
read by those distinguished classes for whom such
works are intended, with a sound and healthy feel
ing ; and the ladies of England felt their womanly
sympathies stirred as strongly by unadorned facts,
as if these had been embellished, by some more
courtly pen, with the gilding of poetry and ro
mance. The reception of the work by the poli^cal journals
was another sign of the times. Opposed to all par
ties, I was treated with unkindness and unfairness
by none. The Cerberus of criticism, so far as I have
heard, emitted scarcely even a growl. It seemed
as if there was something too sacred in the gigantic
miseries of a whole nation to admit of inquiry into
the unskilfulness of the pen which pourtrayed them.
Men judge of the direction of a storm by the course
of a straw tossed up into the troubled air ; and, in
like manner, I venture to predict, from the fate of
my sliglit performance, that better days for Ireland
are fast approaching.
The physical condition of men has less to do witli
their moral character, and more with their political
freedom, than is usually supposed. Almost all
great popular revolts have had liberty for their
watchword, but hunger for their ringleader. Di
rect taxation is the tyrant par excellence, not

IRISH OUTRAGES. 3
because it is more oppressive than indirect taxation
— for' in most countries it is vastly less so — but
because it appears to snatch, with undisguised fin
gers, at the residue of a man's income. Thus in
the middle ages, in some countries, the hearth tax,
and in others, the poll tax, set all Europe in arms.
In France the great revolution was no doubt pro
duced by a variety of concurring causes ; yet, if the
people, nobles and all, had not been poor, there
would at that time have been no revolution. In
England, to this day, the standard of our harmless
insurrections^is a loaf of bread stuck on the point
of a spear.
With the page of history open before us, to ex
pect tranquillity in Ireland, where the great body
of the people are starving, would betray a puerility
of mind very remarkable in a grown person. To
desire it, under such circumstances, would, to coin
a mild expression, be un-English. The outrages
perpetrated there are frequently shocking in them
selves, but they are very trifling effects indeed of
such a cause. In south or north Britain, I have no
hesitation in saying, that the immediate result
would be a general insurrection and massacre.
The proper question ought to be, not why such
things take place in Ireland, but, why so few take
place compared with the exciting cause ? The an
swer to this will suggest itself to every body. The
great mass of the nation were till lately in the si
tuation of a conquered people ; and the houses of the
B 2

IRELAND.

protestant gentry were interspersed like garrisons
throughout the country to keep them down. The
grandsire, the father, the child^ all were born in
the house of bondage ; and, like the Israelites in
Egypt, when they showed any signs of discontent,
their chains were only drawn the tighter. Insur
rection after insurrection was quenched in blood,
till the spirit of the people was broken ; and hence
the submissiveness of the Irish character of to-day
— a word which I use in defiance of the ridicule of
the unreflecting, or the superficially informed.
When I say the physical condition of men has
but little to do with the moral virtues, I merely
state a fact deduced from my own personal obser
vation in various countries in which I have tra
velled ; but I have no room to reason upon it here.
The Irish peasant has none of the vices which might
be thought inseparable from his physical condition.
He is honest, so far as the goods of his neighbour
are concerned ; he is generous and charitable ; he
is a faithful husband, and a tender father. A part
of this character, I know, has been denied ; and I
notice it the rather, that Mr. Inglis, with whom I
agree on numerous points, has fallen into the error.
He mentions the " less affection that exists between
man and wife among the country people in Ireland
than is found to adorn domestic life in the humbler
spheres on the other side of the water ;" and he ac
counts for it by marriage being in the former coun
try, " seldom the result of long and tried affection

CHARACTER OF THE PEASANTS. 5
on both sides, but either a rash step taken by un
thinking children, or else a mere mercenary bar
gain." I suspect that Mr. Inglis heard of the mer
cenary marriages first, and then described the " less
affection" as a matter of course. However this may
be, while admitting the cause, I deny the effect. The
ties of family affection are nowhere else in the
world more strong than in an Irish cabin. It seems
as if mutual deprivation, and mutual misery, served
to the hapless pair instead of the links of love ; and,
as I have said in last year's volume, that the cottage
group drew near to one another, in heart as well as
in body, for mutual warmth. In this class of so
ciety, conjugal infidelity, more especially on the
part of the wife, is almost unknown ; and there are
numerous instances of wives emigrating alone to
America, or the colonies, and, after years of toil,
and pinching economy, sending home a remittance
to enable their husbands to join them.
But I by no means intend to represent the Irish
peasant as
" A faultless monster whom the world ne'er saw."
Being destitute of the hope of bettering his condi
tion, he is lazy and improvident; being ignorant,
he is often brutal and ferocious ; and being brought
up in the thrall of oppression, he is almost always
insincere. This last taint, indeed, belongs, in a
greater or less degree — although, of course, with a

IRELAND.

multitude of individual exceptions, to the character
of the whole nation ; and its origin may be traced
with perfect clearness by any one who will take the
trouble of wandering through the uninteresting
mazes of Irish history.
The PEOPLE of Ireland, I repeat again and again
— the six millions out of eight — are those on whom
the eyes of civilized mankind ought to be fixed. No
question of political right, or national pride, can by
possibility affect a peasantry living on the food of
the stall-fed cattle of their masters, and dying from
the insufiiciency of the supply of that food. The
A'ital question is not the relative position of Ireland
with England, but of the labourers of Ireland with
the landlords.
Whenever the People of Ireland are mentioned
— on the hustings — in the senate — in after-dinner
speeches — in political toasts — let it be remembered
that the expression designates a people inhabiting
huts more comfortless than those of any savages yet
discovered, and in general subsisting solely on a
limited, and often interrupted supply of the worst
species of potatoe. If this indisputable fact be
kept continually in sight, the least informed men
will be able to judge of the motives of the orator,
the aptness of his remarks, and the expediency of
his proposals. The upper classes of Ireland have
been too long taken for the people, the two millions
for the eight millions ; and the fulness of time has
now arrived for the delusion to cease.

POLITICAL DELUSION. 7
This kind of delusion, however, is widely spread,
and deeply rooted. There is hardly a nation by
whom its baleful presence is unfelt, hardly a country
where it does not retard the progress of liberty and
civilization. But it is a delusion, unfortunately,
which in some cases is wrought up with our best
and holiest feelings. What bosom does not respond
to the cries of the gallant nobles of Poland in their
war of liberty? What bosom does feel for the
People of Poland, chained like brutes to the soil
they cultivate ? The liberty here meant is liberty
for the nobles ; for hitherto the serfs, excepting in
the ravages of war, have received nothing but be
nefits from the tyrant Nicholas. Not, it may well be
supposed, from public principle, but out of mere
revenge ; the autocrat has done more, at one blow,
for the people of Poland than the nobles in all
their generations. He has converted into useful
citizens that portion of the nobility who retained
their feudal privileges, even when sunk so low in
poverty as to labour on the grounds of the serfs for
a morsel of bread ; and by compelling the Jews to
serve personally in the army, he has, in a great
measure, brought those who before were excrescen
ces and blood-suckers into the pale of the com
monwealth. But let me not be understood as find
ing fault with that chivalrous feeling which unites
in brotherhood with the Polish nobles every manly
spirit in Europe. I only wish this feeling were
extended far enough to embrace the whole nation.

y IRELAND.
With regard to Russia, again, there are few
among us who would not have rejoiced, had the
conspiracy against the life of the emperor been suc
cessful, provided tyranny had fallen with the tyrant.
But what government would have been substituted ?
A free government for the few hundred thousand
nobles, and tenfold chains for the tens of millions
of the people ! The serfs of the emperor are little
more than nominally such, while those of the nobles
are, to all intents and purposes, slaves. A re
volution in Russia ought to commence with the
lower classes, who must be made men before they
can possibly become citizens. The small body
of the nobles are far more illiberal and obdurate
taskmasters than the emperor ; and their emancipa
tion from his control would only have the effect of
riveting and perpetuating the chains of the people.
These sentiments, I know, will by some be called
political heresies, and more especially when put
forth by one who has always professed, and advo
cated, what are called liberal principles. The truth
is, I suspect, that mj^ principles are too really liberal
to please even my own party. A London journal
of the highest talent, and, so far as I know, of un
questioned honesty, reproached me with some bit
terness, in a notice of last year's volume, for an
alleged affectation of originality in my Irish the
ories. Now I declare most solemnly, that if they
be original — which I cannot believe — I am heartily
sorry for it. If I had the advantage of being per-

APOLOGY. y
sonally known to the editor, he would not suppose
me capable of insincerity on such a subject. I
entreat him to take this on my own word for the pre
sent ; and instead of accusing me of disingenuous-
ness, or even of mere literary trifling, to prove, if he
can, wherein I am wrong. But let him understand,
that I do not give this challenge either from valour
or vanity. I feel deeply interested in the subject ;
and I shall be as glad to see my opinions examined
by an able adversary, as I shall always be ready to
defend, or retract them, according as truth and
honesty dictate.

CHAPTER II.

Appearance of the country north of Dublin — Drogheda — The broken
Heart — Subterranean Temple — Dundalk — Brutal Inhumanity of a
Landlord — Newry — Geographical Causes of Prosperity — Employ
ment not the sole want of Ireland — Necessity of a Poor Law^ —
Effects of the present System of Relief — Inapplicability of the Scot
tish System to Ireland — Mendicants and Pauper Peasants — Habitual
Abstinence of the Irish — Their fixed position with regard to Pood
and its Moral and Physical Consequences — Irish meaning of the
word Destitution — The Irishman in England and the Englishman in
Ireland — Foundation of the Author's opinion on the Poor-law Ques
tion — Great national Benefits unconnected with Pauperism which
may be expected from the Introduction of the Union Workhouse
System. Having, in my former tour, traversed the south
ern counties, I left Dublin, on the present occasion,
to proceed northward. My arrangements, having
strict reference to the picturesque of the journey,
did not admit of a very close examination of the
county Louth, in the greater part of which the
scenery is but little interesting, or striking* For
a considerable distance beyond Dublin, the country
was flat and uninviting to an artist ; and indeed

THE POST-DOG. 11
this was its prevailing character, till the fine bay of
Carlingford appeared, with the majestic hills of
Down beyond.
To a traveller coming from the south, notwith
standing, this flat country will be exceedingly
agreeable. There is not a greater difference be
tween the moral aspect of Ireland and England,
than there is between the moral aspect of the coun
try to the south of Dublin and that to the north.
The cottages here are decidedly neat, for Irish cot
tages ; they are almost always washed with lime as
white as snow ; and not unfrequent attempts at a
little garden in front, in the English style, indicate
an advancement in civilization, if not in wealth.*
In the course of a few hours' ride, I passed some
ruins which, on account of the tameness of their
situation, would hardly elicit a question from the
traveller; and at length reached Drogheda, and
the Boyne water. I think it was before this, that
on arriving at a village, we were amused by the
spectacle of a dog waiting to receive the mail-bag,
and trotting away with it as gravely as a post
master could do for his life.
Drogheda is a respectable-looking, nay, almost

* I find the very reverse of this picture given by Mr. Inglis. The
cause of the discrepancy may be, that he came from the north, the
seat of manufactures and civilization, and I from the south. I persuade
myself, also, that the severity of the illness under which he then la
boured may have had some effect in unfitting his mind for receiving
cheerful impressions.

12 , IRELAND.
handsome town, and, when I was there, appeared
to be full of business and bustle.
St. Peter's church is rather a distinguished edi
fice, in the Greek taste, and stands upon the site of
the ancient building, which was one of the greatest
ecclesiastical establishments in Ireland. Its spire,
overthrown by a tempest nearly two centuries ago,
is said to have been the loftiest in the world ! The
old church, too, was distinguished as the scene of one
of Cromwell's butcheries ; for the citizens flying
there for refuge, this ruthless soldier of the Covenant,
who would have made an admirable prophet-cap
tain of the Israelites, massacred two thousand of
them, and set fire to the building. The banks of
the Boyne, and indeed a considerable part of this
quarter of the country, are thickly studded with the
ruins of small churches ; which, when come upon
suddenly by the pedestrian, although by no means
remarkable in point of architecture, are often ex
ceedingly interesting. But, about five miles from
the town are some fragments, which, scanty as they
are, would of themselves make it worth an antiqua
rian's while to visit Ireland. These are the remains
of the splendid abbey of Mellifont. There is a simple
anecdote connected with this locality which I can
not refrain from giving. I give it in the words of
Mr. Robert Armstrong, a native of the vicinity of
Mellifont, formerly a journeyman housepainter,
and now the parish schoolmaster of Raheny.
" About forty years since, a young man in the

LOVE-QUARREL. 13
neighbourhood paid his addresses to a young wo
man, a farmer's daughter, and, although his atten
tions were not approved of by her friends, yet she
encouraged him to hope, and eventually promised
to marry him. His circumstances not being the
best, and believing he might trust to her fidelity,
he was inclined to defer the ceremony until he
could realize a competence, or sufficient to make her
comfortable ; but Mary, being sought after by many,
pressed by her parents to decide, and believing his
delay, arose from indifference, at length became
dissatisfied, and told him she would wait no longer,
but would marry the first man who would ask her.
He, thinking her declaration arose from a sudden
caprice, carelessly told her to do so ; and they
parted in anger.
" The miller of Mellifont was a douse, warm,
middle aged bachelor, boorish in his appearance,
and sottish in his manners, but withal having the
name of money and a comfortable situation in the
mill, he was far from being an object of indifference
to the parents of unmarried females. Having long
regarded Mary with a wistful eye, and been often
proposed for her acceptance by her friends, she
now, while warm with indignation against James,
for what she considered his falsehood, consented to
marry him ; and, requesting it might be done as
soon as possible, no time was lost, every thing was
prepared for the wedding, and before twenty-four
hours she was his wife.

14 IRELAND.
" Among the guests invited, James was not for
gotten ; perhaps she wished to enjoy a sort of tri
umph over him, and prove she could marry with
out him. He attended, but was downcast and
sorrowful, taking no part in the boisterous merri
ment so general at country weddings, and appear
ing to pay no attention to what was passing around
him. After the bride had retired for the night, her
husband, the miller, having indulged rather freely,
was carried up in a state of insensibility and laid
beside her, and the lights being removed, she had
full leisure to reflect on her hasty conduct and her
rash treatment of James, who she now found pos
sessed her heart, although her hand was another's.
Ere long she perceived a figure seated near the bed's
foot, and eagerly asking, ' Who is that ?' was an
swered by James, ' It is me, Mary, don't be
alarmed.' Why, James,' said she, ' this is very
improper conduct ; I am now the wife of another,
and if my husband wakens, or any person sees you
here, it will destroy me ; you must leave that, or I
will call the people in.' ' I can't, Mary,' said he,
* for my heart is breaking.' She still insisted he
should leave her, but still received no other answer
than ' Mary, I can't, for my heart is breaking.'
" At length he sunk exhausted on the bed ; Mary,
greatly alarmed, called aloud : and the company
coming in, found him dead on the bed's foot, his
heart having really broken.
" All was now confusion, his body was conveyed

THE BROKEN HEART. 15
to his residence a few fields distant, and his friends
having in vain tried every method to restore him,
he was laid out to be waked. The practice then
was, to put the body 'under board,' that is, on
planks, laid on the under frame of a large table,
over which a sheet was placed, which, falling down
over the ends and sides, entirely concealed the
corpse : on the table they placed candles, tobacco,
pipes, &c.
" He was waked for two days, and all the neigh
bourhood made poor Mary the object of their exe
cration and reproach. She never left her apart
ment, but sat seemingly unconscious of every thing,
and bewildered with anguish. However, on the
second night she was missed ; she had left her
house unperceived, and had gone no one knew whi
ther, and as she could not be found after the strictest
search, it was supposed she had drowned herself in
the river.
" In the morning preparations were made for bu
rying James, but upon proceeding to put his body
into the coffin, they found unfortunate Mary dead
beside him. She had stolen unperceived under the
table, and having insinuated her arm under his
head, and placed his arm round her neck, she had
in that position bid adieu to all her sorrows.
" Little now remains to be told ; they were bu
ried in one grave in Mellifont Abbey, and although
in life they were separated, in death they were not
divided."

16 IRELAND.
The best excursion from Drogh«da is to the vil
lage of Slane, along the Boyne river, the route
presenting, during its distance of six miles, a very
pleasing variety of the picturesque. Near the village,
at New Grange, is the curious subterranean temple
— ^if temple it be — which has puzzled so many anti
quarians. It is a kind of cavern, in a mound of
considerable size, and is reached by means of a gal
lery, making together the figure of a cross. In the
recess forming one arm of the cross, there is a rude
vase of stone three feet and a half long, and nearly
as deep. In the other arm there are the fragments
of another vessel of the same kind ; but tradition
affords no clue to their date or purpose.
From Drogheda to Newry the country is alto
gether uninteresting. The principal intermediate
place is Dundalk, where the first cambric manufac^
ture in Ireland was established. It is the assize
town of the county ; but in ancient times it was a
royal city. The harbour is shallow and inconve
nient, yet the town notwithstanding has a thriving
appearance ; and I learnt that a pin manufactory
is in operation there, which alone gives employ
ment to five hundred children.
" In passing along the road," says the author of
the " Northern Tourist," who wrote eight years ago,
" the traveller will observe the ruins of a number
of cabins, out of which, to please the whim of a
noble proprietor, the miserable tenantry were driven
some few years since, in the depth of winter, by

NEWRY. 17
having the thatch stripped off them while yet inha
bited, the leases having expired, and withouttheir hav
ing a spot in which to shelter their defenceless heads
from " the pelting of the pitiless storm," In com
menting on this, theauthorremarks that " when a man
arrives at that state in which he can say to himself,
' I cannot be worse,' he becomes a fit tool for agita
tors, and a ready instrument wherewith to perpe
trate the most desperate crimes." This is true ; but
Mr. Hardy should have added, that at such a mo
ment agitation becomes a virtue. I need hardly say,
however, that I do not mean that sort of agitation
which is intended merely to give political dignity to
the landlords of the destitute and desperate pea
santry. As we approach Newry, the scenery becomes
more striking ; and the hills on the left of the road,
more especially, are remarkable enough to demand
a visit from the traveller who has time at his dis
posal. On the summit of one of them there is a
lake of limpid water, with abundance of fish ; and
in the side of another there is the Witch's Cave,
the local habitation of many a wild tradition. The
inhabitants of this mountainous district, although
they frequently visit the town with loads of turf,
show but little of town refinement. They are in fact
in nearly the same state of rudeness as when their
fastnesses were the haunt of the famous robber
Redmond O'Hanlon, in the reign of George the
Second.

18 IRELAND.
Newry is quite a handsome town ; and like
every other town in Ireland which is well adapted,
in point of situation, for an entrepot, it is in a flou
rishing condition. This remark, and the natural
inference which must follow it, cannot fail to have
struck the reader of our former volume. The Irish
peasantry, I repeat, are ignorant, lazy, and impro
vident ; but they are so because they are without
the hope of bettering their condition by their own
efforts. In those parts of the country where skill
and labour meet with their natural reward, a
change of character is seen, and the favoured
towns advance at the usual rate of progression.
When the island shall be intersected by canals and
railways, answering the purpose of geographical
advantages, a similar change will be perceptible,
and not till then, in the whole people.
But canals and railways cannot be undertaken
with effect just at present, because of the existence
of the very qualities which they are meant to eradi
cate. It is idle to say, " Give the Irish employ
ment, and that is all they want." Even were it
possible to introduce sufficient capital into a country
which seems every day to border on a political con
vulsion, it would be folly to expect the character of
the people to change all at once, as if at the bidding
of some magic spell. In the towns alluded to above,
the partial change now observable has come gra
dually on, in the course of time and circumstances ;
and if abundant work were to be provided at this

REMEDY FOR THE EVILS OF IRELAND. 19
moment for every man, woman, and child in Ire
land, we should still have to wait for the moral
change in the people.
There is no doubt that employment is the re
medy ; but if administered without preparation, it
will fail. There are the habits of centuries to con
quer. Habitual laziness, habitual improvidence, ha
bitual mendicancy are not to be subdued at once
throughout the whole island by the mere offer of work.
Want of employment is the cause of the evil, but
employment will not operate of itself as an effectual
remed3\ In like manner, in the natural body, want
of food for a great length of time may be the cause
of a general debility in the system, and this cannot be
cured by merely administering food. The offer of
employment will not put an end to that portion
of mendicancy which is caused by disinclination to
work ; neither will it put an end to that portion
which is caused by inability to work. If all the
able and willing labourers were in full employment
to-morrow, there would still be a vast mass of des
titution in the country. How is this to be dealt
with ? After giving full employment to the people
— (supposing it possible, for the sake of argument,
to do so under present circumstances)— are we to
leave the poor as heretofore to the customs and
sympathies of the labouring classes ? If we do so,
the increase of the fund thus supplied will operate
as a premium upon beggary ; mendicancy will be
come a flourishing trade; and the comparatively
c 2

20

IRELAND.

small portion of destitution which may exist at the
outset will in time infect and corrupt even the
healthy parts of the social system. Or will govern
ment take the poor under its own protection ? Will
it assume and exercise the power of putting down
professional mendicancy ? Will it protect industry
from the claims of laziness, which transmitted cus
tom has made sacred ? If the legislature will not
do this, it will not do its duty.
In Ireland, as in every other country, with or
without poor laws, the poor are supported at this
moment ; but they are supported in a way which
confirms — and which probably has formed — the
vagrant habits of the people, and which, while re
lieving destitution for the time, extends and perpe
tuates it. By this mode, it is not' merely the desti
tute who are relieved from the resources of those
who are just less destitute themselves; custom
has made relief to all applicants compulsory : and
thus not only destitution, but idleness, vice, and im
posture fasten like incubi upon the energies of
industry. By this mode, the burden weighs almost
exclusively upon the poorer classes — upon those
who are themselves trembling on the verge of beg
gary ; and thus by the action and reaction of cause
and effect, a portion of the people^ amounting to
one-fourth of the entire population, are kept poor —
alternating only between the privations of unassisted
poverty, and the degradation of avowed mendi
cancy. In a country like England, the principle

IRISH AND SCOTTISH BEGGARS. 21
of a Poor Law may be made a matter of dispute.
It is at least susceptible of argument on both sides :
but it seems to me, that in Ireland, the necessity
for a system of public relief to the destitute is so
obvious as to require no illustration whatever.*
Even the advocates of a Poor Law, however, are
so much enamoured of the voluntary system of re
lief (which has done such wonders for Ireland !)
that they wish at least to incorporate it with the
legal provision. They appear to be misled by the
successful operation of the mixed system in Scot
land, forgetting the dissimilarity in the condition
of the two countries. In Scotland the people tax
themselves ; but instead of giving away the money
in childish and indiscriminate charity, they pay it
into the hands of the church, to be distributed ac
cording to the ascertained wants of the poor.
The rural beggars there are sometimes invited to
sit down by the fireside; but in general, when relieved
at all, they receive a handful of meal, or a piece of
oaten-cake, at the door. In Ireland, they walk
without ceremony, into the cottage, saying, as they
enter, " God save all here ;" and, on hearing the
customary reply, " God save you kindly," they
establish themselves in one of the best places round

* In this chapter I make free use of a pamphlet I have lately pub
lished, but which, of course, has gone into the hands only of certain
members of parliament, entitled " A Bj'stander's View of the Irish
Poor Law Question.''

22 IRELAND.
the hearth, and dip their hands into the family pot
of potatoes. In Scotland, in addition to such casual
charity, the peasant thinks it not only a religious
duty, but a duty, the performance of which involves
his worldly respectability, to drop a penny or a
halfpenny into the plate at the church-door on Sun
days and fast days. On still more solemn occasions
the donation is more liberal, as we learn from the
profane poet —

" A greedy glour black bonnet throws.
An' we maun draw our tippence.''

This is the practice — always conjointly with casual
charity, and modified in the amount of the contri
bution — from the nobility downwards ; and the
fund so collected, an assessment being only occa
sionally necessary, forms the principal provision
for the Scottish poor. In Ireland, no such fund
could, by possibility, be collected, either as regards
amount or regularity. There the labourers, and
occupiers not employing labourers, amount, with
their families, to considerably more than half of
the entire population of the country ; and in this
class a contribution in money is altogether out of
the question. It could not be wrung from them
by any legislative enactment, under any penalty
whatever, and for this reason, that they do not feed
the poor from their superabundance, but from their

EFFECTS OF DESTITUTION. 23
want. If the beggar does not enter before the meal
is finished, they eat the potatoes themselves; and
this is a most important fact as regards the whole
Poor Law question.
The effects of destitution in Ireland are, to create,
firstly, as in all other countries, professional men
dicancy ; and, secondly, to an extent greater than
in any other country, occasional mendicancy. To
the eye of the passing stranger these two are iden
tical ; because the outward characteristic is the
same in both — rags ; and because in no other coun
try are we accustomed to see, begging publicly,
persons who are not only not mendicants, in the
usual meaning of the word, but who are, in all pro
bability, occupiers of land. In order to understand
this distinction, it is necessary, not merely to have
travelled in Ireland, but to have resided there ; not
merely to have passed in a carriage along the. high
ways, but to have wandered, on foot, along the by
ways ; not merely to have traversed the streets of
the towns and cities, but to have inspected the vil
lages, and farm-houses, and solitary huts of the
country. In fact, to understand this distinction in
the population, is to understand Ireland.
The mendicants are, in my opinion, much less
numerous than has been suspected by any writer on
Ireland : and, supposing I am correct, the mistake
is easily explained. The mendicants haunt almost
exclusively the towns, and the villages where there
are relays of horses. They flaunt their rags and

24

IRELAND.

sores in the eyes of the stranger, and clamorously
demand relief. Let any one returning from a com
prehensive tour in Ireland divest his mind as much as
possible of preconceived notions, and bethink himself
of what average number of such tormentors he may
have met with at the places through which his
vehicle passed ; and he will approximate, with tole
rable precision, to the exceedingly small number
of thousands of the Irish mendicants.
Nothing on the other hand, can be more unob
trusive than the pauper peasants. They are dressed
in rags, it is true — filthy, miserable rags — but this
is so common in Ireland among the labourers and
small farmers, that it would not distinguish the
class. If you see, however, a ragged mother, with
a baby on her back, and two or three ragged chil
dren at her heels, and more rarely, the ragged
father bringing up the rear ; — if you see this melan
choly cortfege glide into the huts by the roadside,
or defile into the successive lanes leading to the
farm-houses ; and more especially, if in passing by
your side, you mark that the eyes of the parents are
bent upon the ground, or their heads turned away,
or their straight-forward looks fixed upon vacancy,
in the dull, cold apathy of despair — you may
conclude, with absolute certainty, that you have
seen a family of pauper peasants, in one of their
pilgrimages to solicit the aid of those who are only
just less destitute than themselves. These occa
sional mendicants almost never beg except at the

OBJECTION TO A POOR LAW. 25
huts and farm-houses ; they rarely visit the gentle
men's seats — and my breast swells with scorn and
indignation while I relate the fact ; and they turn
an unregarding look upon the well-dressed, and
apparently wealthy passers-by, as if they were crea
tures of a different race, between whom and them
no bond of human sympathy existed. I have my
self wandered on foot through the most pauperized
districts in Ireland, at various seasons of the year,
and I declare solemnly, I was never asked for alms
on more than two or three occasions, except in the
towns, and at the relay stations !
The grand objection urged by the enemies of a
Poor Law is, that the amount of destitution, whe
ther exhibited in its form of occasional or profes
sional mendicancy, is so great that no public fund
could relieve it. If this means anything at all, it
means that a country which at the present moment
provides not only for the really poor, but for a
host of impostors, could not, if the pauper popula
tion were properly sifted, provide for the really poor
alone. It means that a country where the poor
and the lazy are, at the present moment, supported
by the just less poor, could not provide for real des
titution, if the fund were levied also on the rich.
This is not stating the argument unfairly, because
it never was proposed to make the workhouses serve
as a premium upon idleness. On the contrary, it
was proposed from the outset that they were to be
made just the next best thing to actual starvation,

26 IRELAND.
and that even this miserable alternative was not to
be left to the option of the poor, but granted only
after due investigation of the case by responsible
officers. The dread of the workhouses being swamped by
the number of applications is the more singular, as
many of the objectors profess themselves to be well
acquainted with the remarkable fact — remarkable
in the apparent contradictions it involves in the
character of the people — that the Irish, in the midst
of all that improvidence arising from temperament
and circumstances, which distinguishes them as a
nation, possess in a high degree what may be called
an instinct of abstinence, in contradistinction to the
prudence arising from reflection and forethought. I
do not talk of this quality in its occasional exercise,
but as forming a distinguishing trait in the cha
racter of the people ; and, before I show the import
ant reference it bears to the question before us, let
me explain the cause of its existence in what would
appear, at first sight, a very unnatural soil.
The lower animals in general, no matter in what
circumstances they may be placed, devour as much
of the food that is within their reach as their appe
tites permit. They consume in one day the provi
sion for a week, and starve for the remaining six
days. It belongs only to beings of a higher grade
in creation, however mean their intellect and con
fined their experience, in comparison with those of
their own class, to husband the store they possess,

CONDITION OF THE PEASANTRY. 27
and when the fund is too small, to settle the de
mands of nature, so to speak, by a composition
paid in instalments. When the amount of the
store is in any degree uncertain, they are apt to
reason rather by their hopes than their judgment,
and the course of action which results from this mis
take is what is commonly called improvidence ; but,
when the amount is absolutely certain, and has
been so throughout their experience, no matter
how wildly extravagant their conduct may be in
other respects, they are provident in this.
Such is the present situation of the Irish pea
santry. There is no principle of change either in
their moral or physical position. Their fortunes
are, to all appearance, as fixed as if they existed
under the stereotyped form of Eastern civilization.
They know by their own experience, by the lessons
of their parents, by the traditions handed down
from their remote ancestors, that the amount of
their store is miserably short of the regular de
mands of nature, and they act accordingly. They
know from the inadequacy of their earnings, and
the nature of the crop on which they depend, that
they are to be in want of food for a certain determi
nate portion of the year, which they can point to in
the calendar; and they prepare — from the most
ignorant to the best informed, from the finest spe
cimen of our nature in its rude state down to the
human clod that is little different, except in form,
from the brute — for that disastrous period.

28 IRELAND.
The fixed position of the Irish peasant with rcr
gard to food, affects, of nature and necessity, his
general habits. It lowers the tone of his mind ; it
operates as an impassable bar to ambition ; it ex
tinguishes the desire for all the superfluities of
civilized society that are not connected with ani
mal gratification ; it makes him contented to live
in a cold, damp dwelling, without neatness or com
fort of any kind, which a little industry, even with
out capital, might render warm, dry, neat, and
comfortable ; it makes it easy for him, without any
feeling of shame or abasement, to walk to and fro
upon the earth, with his wife and children, in rags
which an English beggar would scorn to pick up
from a dunghill : it unfits him for steady and ha
bitual labour, and in the succession of cause and
effect, makes him a wanderer, a lounger, a basker
in the sun, a gossip, and a liar. Having no other
resources, he takes refuge in the animal gratifica
tions ; especially in those which deaden the sense
of misery, or illumine the mind with a factitious
and momentary hope. He smokes to excess when
he can procure tobacco ; he drinks to excess when
he can procure whisky ; he marries even before his
sexual passions have had time to acquire intensity.
On the other hand, he possesses the virtue of hos
pitality, which, indeed, is rarely absent in poor and
rude societies ; he loves his children, to whom he
looks forward for support, and they, by a natural
reaction, love him ; he is, to a certain degree, con-

COMMISSION OF INQUIRY. 29
tinent, his early marriage leaving him no excuse
for being otherwise ; he is brave, because he is des
perate ; he is proud of his country, because he is
acquainted only with its fabulous history, and be
cause he has nothing else to be proud of.
It will at once be acknowledged by any reflecting
person, that to a peasantry in this condition, a
workhouse on the English plan, with its strict rules,
its prison-like confinement, its methodical indus
try, its abstinence from sensual gratification, must
be neither more nor less than just the next worst
thing to actual starvation. The pauper peasantry
would not accept of the privilege if they possessed
any alternative ; and the real question is, what is
the probable number of those who would possess no
alternative ?
" If workhouses were determined upon for Ire
land," say the Commissioners of Inquiry, " as an
actual means of relief, they must be established for
the purpose of setting vast numbers of unemplo3'^ed
persons to work within them, and of so providing
for such persons and their families. Now, accord
ing to the third table annexed, we cannot estimate
the number of persons in Ireland out of work and
in distress during thirty weeks of the year at less
than 585,000, nor the number of persons dependent
upon them at less than 1,800,000, making, in the
whole, 2,385,000." This calculation has been
sifted in every possible way ; but, for my part, I

30 IRELAND.
think the Commissioners have a much better chance
of being correct in their facts than any body else.
The question is, what construction they mean
should be put upon the expression, " out of work
and in distress." The enemies of a Poor Law as
sume that it means destitute in the strictest sense of
the word ; and they are justified in doing so, since
the Commissioners of Inquiry add, with much
gravity, that they consider it morally, indeed phy
sically, impossible to provide accommodation in a
workhouse for 2,385,000 persons, or even to attempt
it with safety. But, on the other hand, they are
not justified in doing so; for the same Commis
sioners, in the very same page of their report, state
that nothing of the kind would be necessary, their
" conviction" being, " that the able-bodied in ge
neral, and their families, would endure any misery,
rather than make a workhouse their domicile."
The plain matter of fact is, that destitution in Ire
land is a different thing from destitution in Eng
land. In the latter country, the agricultural popu
lation, with the exception of that of some of the
northern counties, is destitute, for a certain period,
every winter ; the earnings of the labourers being,
at that time, inadequate to the support of their
families. Yet few of these people enter the work
house. In Ireland, in like manner, the people are
destitute for a portion of every year ; but not to an
extent that would compel persons of their habits,

IRISHMAN IN ENGLAND. 31
and accustomed to their privations, to enter the
workhouse. Habit is every thing. An English
labourer would starve in Ireland, and an Irish la
bourer does nothing more than live in England.
Potatoes and salt, even in abundance, would not
keep an Englishman alive — he would die of the
want of his little comforts rendered necessary by
habit ; while the Irishman, with his tenfold wages,
continues to live, as at home, in filth and misery,
spending the entire surplus in the debauchery of a
savage. This picture I take from Mr. Lewis's Re
port, quoted by the Commissioners of Inquiry as a
part of their materials.
For my part, I pretend to give no opinion as to
the number of the really destitute, or in other
words, of those who will require to receive work
house relief. All I know is, that at this moment,
a single class of the people, or little more than a
single class, provides for the destitute, the lazy, and
the fraudulent ; while under the proposed system,
all classes of the people, contributing together, will
have to provide for the destitute alone. On this
fact, which cannot be controverted, I found my
opinion in favour of the principle of a Poor Law
for Ireland. As for the details of the measure now
before Parliament, they are another matter, and at
any rate this is not the place to discuss them.
Of all the difficulties to be encountered, should
the bill pass into a law, the most harassing will arise
from the want of local machinery ready made. The

32 iRELANt).
Irish — through no fault of theirs ! — are at this
moment wholly unacquainted with public business.
They have neither the sturdy tradesmen, nor, in
any thing like the same proportion, the shrewd
farmers of England ; and, in most cases, recourse
must be had almost exclusively to the gentry. As
for the smaller tenants of the land, who in England
are very nearly assimilated, in point of information
and intelligence, to the greater, in Ireland they are
not distinguishable, even in dress and manners,
from the common labourers. Although the ma
chinery, however, is not yet in beings the materials
are in as great perfection as elsewhere ; and no in
considerable portion of the benefit I expect from
a Poor Law will consist of the change it will
produce upon the surface of society. It will go far
towards creating the wanting classes. It will bring
together the now distinct castes of the people. It
will give the lower orders the habit of attending to,
and thinking about, their own wants, instead of
looking as hitherto, with more than childish help
lessness, for some political miracle. It will afford,
as it were, numerous tangible points for laying hold
of the minds of men, who are at present moved only
in great masses, stirred by the views of religious or
political enthusiasts. Civilization never comes in
the lump. It works its way in detail ; and, until
Irish society is broken into the small selfish circles
of England, it will be impossible to operate upon it
with advantage.

ENGLISHWOMEN. 33
A few years ago, I should not have ventured on
this discussion in a picture-book, intended chiefly
for the drawing-room table : but, in the present day,
those who were formerly the mere ladies of England
are Englishwomen, and the sympathies that before
were confined to a class of subjects, now embrace
the whole interests of the human race. Women
may be as beautiful as they please ; they may be
the flower of Europe, as my countrywomen un
doubtedly are — but till they learn to think as well
as look, to reason as well as feel, they enjoy only a
moiety of our admiration ; and the heart of man,
palled with their unchanging sweets, turns away
to seek an Eo-eria in caves and woods, in clouds
and dreams.

D

CHAPTER III.

Newry — Bay of Carlingford — Moume Mountains — Abyss of the Parri
cide — Slieve Donard — Creeping Mountain — Druidical Altar — Down
patrick — Reward of Treason — Danish Fort — Saint Patrick's Well —
Ceremonial of the Struel Pilgrimage — Extraordinary Delusion — Tra
ditional Origin of the Sacred Well — Strangford Lough — Grey Abbey
— Settlement of Ulster — Condition of the People.

In Newry there are some handsome edifices,
chiefly ecclesiastical ; but the only remains of its
ancient and magnificent Cistercian abbey are ab
sorbed in the line of one of the streets. This town,
however, is so short a distance from some of the
finest scenery in Ireland, that the traveller in search
of the picturesque regards it only as a starting
point. The valley of the Newry Water is, in some
respects, the most pleasing in Ireland ; and I hardly
know any excursion which an artist might make
more profitably than by this avenue to Rostrevor
and Carlingford, on the shores of the Bay. The
elegant country-houses, however, which are seen,
every here and there interrupt, in some measure, the

CARLINGFORD. 35
effect; and the loneliness of Rostrevor, which in
other circumstances would be almost sublime,
puts one in mind too much of Patrician retire
ment. The bay of Carlingford is perhaps only second in
Ireland in point of beauty to that of Glengariff.
The little town itself, situated on the frontiers of the
Pale, was at one time a town of fortresses ; and there
are still the remains of at least three very interesting
specimens. The principal of these. King John's
castle, stands on a rock which overhangs the sea,
and commands a splendid view of the bay, includ
ing the deliciously situated village of Rostrevor, on
the opposite shore, with Slieve Donard looking over
the Mourne mountains behind. The water presents
the appearance of a lake, not too extensive to afford
full effect to the majestic forms of the land around
it, which exhibit almost every variety of heath,
rock, and wood. The little old town of Carlingford
is at present chiefly supported by its trade in oys
ters, which enjoy a great reputation ; and there is
but small chance of its ever desecrating the scene
by degenerating into the vulgarities of a shipping
port. The bay indeed is five miles broad, by about
the same in length, and the water is deep enough
to float a man of war ; but nature has defended the
entrance with a barrier of sunken rocks, which
render the navigation too difficult to answer com
pletely the purposes of commerce.
The moral inquirer who traverses Ireland for the
D 2

36 IRELAND.
purpose of observing the change operated in the
social condition of the people, either by manufac
tures or by the mixture of races, will do well to
return from Rostrevor to Newry, and proceed along
the great road to Belfast. The pilgrim of external
nature, on the other hand, who looks at human
beings as if they were merely the adjuncts of a pic
ture, will not suffer himself to be diverted by any
circumstances from pursuing the line of the sea
coast. To this latter class I assume to belong on
the present occasion ; and I must, therefore, beg
the reader to accompany me in a ramble among the
Mourne mountains.
The road to Newcastle — a distance of about
twenty miles, exhibits almost every variety of the
wild, the dreary, the majestic, and the picturesque.
As we begin to approach this village more especi
ally, and the Mourne mountains, on the left, pre
sent steeps absolutely terrific to the imagination,
while our lowly path overhangs the sea on the
right, which, even in calm weather, rolls with a
hollow roar against the rocks below, there are
some points of view where the scene partakes indis
putably of the character of the sublime. Newcastle
itself is finely situated on the brink of the sea, with
the loftiest of the Mourne mountains in its imme
diate neighbourhood. As is frequently the case on
such bold coasts as this, there are several objects
near the village well worthy of a visit, such as natu
ral shafts, tunnels, and caves. Of these, perhaps

THE PARRICIDE. 37
the most remarkable is, a pit on the brow of a
neighbouring hill, which, besides the effect it has
per se on the imagination, is known to possess a
subterranean communication with the sea. The
moral associations of the spot deepen a thousand
fold, its natural horrors. Into this abyss, in the
last generation, an -aged man was plunged by his
own son. The parricide, doubtless, thought that
the gulf was too deep and dark for the cry of blood
to rise against him from the bottom ; but nature
refused to keep the horrible secret, and the body,
issuing by some mystic avenue into the ocean,
was found soon after at St. John's Point,
The loftiest portion of this mountainous range,
which extends from Rostrevor to Newcastle, is
Slieve Donard, ascending to a perpendicular height
of nearly three thousand feet. The walk to the sum
mit of this pinnacle is four miles in length, which
will afford materials for calculating its steepness.
Its northern side, more especially after heavy rains,
is decorated in almost its whole descent with cas
cades of water bounding down the rocks, or col
lected here and there into small ponds : but in
winter the beauty of this picture is changed into
terror, for the wandering and variegated stream is
then a mighty flood that awes the traveller with its
impetuosity, and deafens him with its roar. The
mountain is of a circular form, and wooded here
and there only with hazel, holly, and other small
trees. If ever the giants of the forest reigned in

38 IRELAND.
this spot at all, they must have fled with the Fin-
galian heroes ; for the poet may now exclaim, with
still more literal meaning than in the days of
Rokeby :
" O Clandeboy, thy friendly floor
Slieve Donard's oak shall hght no more !''

On the summit are several rude chambers formed
of loose stones, which were used as chapels and
stations for the votaries of St. Donard, who is sup
posed to have inhabited a cell on the spot in the
fifth century.
A deep and secluded valley, which, but for its
beauty, would be called a ravine, separates Slieve
Donard from the Creeping Mountain. The valley
is watered by a stream, over which hangs an enor
mous rock, hoary and haggard, with a waterfall
bursting over its brow. It is by the side of this
fall the traveller begins to climb, by a narrow ave
nue, to the summit of the rock : first gazing into
a cavern that yawns close by, and starting as
strange voices scream in his ear, though these
are discovered, by little gleams of light breaking
in by distant crevices, to proceed only from
owls and other solitary birds, sailing spectre-like
through the gloom. On the summit of the rock,
the adventurer finds himself standing in an almost
circular area of several acres, round which, or
rather to the north, east, and west, the mountain

DRUIDICAL ALTAR. 39
rises to its remaining height, Uke some stupen
dous wall. On one side is the majestic cone of
Slieve Donard, on the other Slieve Bringan, with
its crown of rocks, and in front, the limitless sea,
specked with the Isle of Man.
The road from Newcastle to Dundrum is ren
dered interesting to those who can appreciate such
relics of antiquity, by a Druidical altar of extra
ordinary size. It consists of a tabular stone, ten
yards in circumference, resting upon three sup
porters, four feet high. Near the altar is a circle
of stones, disposed like pillars, with an entrance
way distinguished by the larger size of the side
stones. Such altars are never horizontal. They
are inclined on one side, where a pit is usually
found dug in the earth below. This arrangement
is supposed to strengthen the suspicion that blood
offerings were sacrificed on these tables.
Pursuing the coast route, we pass Killough, and
Ardglass. The latter is distinguished by the re
mains of several castles, and fortified warehouses,
as they are supposed to have been, where English
and Scottish merchants secured their goods from
the depredations of the native chiefs.
Seven miles from Killough is the ancient town
of Downpatrick, seated in the midst of an amphi
theatre of hills. Here, according to tradition, lies
the dust of the patron saint of Ireland, in the bu-
rying-ground of the cathedral, whose venerable
ruins still overlook the town. But this burying-

40 IRELAND.
ground is famous for something more authentic.
While the chivalrous De Courcey, previously Lord
Justice of Ireland, under Coeur de Lion — but, at
the time I speak of, denounced as a traitor by King
John, and a price set upon his head — was per
forming penance in the cemetery by walking bare
footed round it, his servants, bought over by the
enemy, attacked, and at length succeeded in over
powering him. Their service was well rewarded.
They were put into a vessel to take them to England,
properly victualled for the voyage, but without
pilot or crew, and desired, on pain of death, never
again to set foot in Ireland. The passport granted
them to the favour of the English was sealed, and
directed to remain so till actually wanted. It ran
as follows : " I, Hugh de Lacy, Lord Justice of
Ireland, servant of my dread sovereign lord King
John, to all that shall read these letters greeting: —
Know ye that these men, whose names are under
written, served some time Sir John de Courcey, late
Earl of Ulster, but now in durance in the Tower of
London, and for a sum of money betrayed their
master into my hands ; I deem them no better than
Judas the traitor. How hardly soever I have con
ceived of De Courcey, I hold them a thousand
times more damnable traitors; wherefore let no
subject within the king's dominions give them any
entertainment, but spit in their faces, and suffer
them to rogue about, and wander like Jews." The
bearers of this recommendation, unfortunately for

DANISH FORT. 41
themselves, had no occasion to make use of it ; for,
being unacquainted with the management of a
vessel, they were blown back again to Ireland, and,
entering the harbour of Cork, were immediately
apprehended for the breach of the lord justice's
commands, and hanged forthwith.
Near Downpatrick is a large and pretty entire
specimen of what is commonly called a Danish fort,
or Rath. The traveller who knows nothing of such
matters, will sometimes be surprised at the interest
excited among antiquarians by what appears to be
a little piece of rising ground, with linear heights
or hollows near it. On the continent, in like
manner, he will sometimes wander through a
Roman camp, without having received any impres
sion upon his mind, but that arising from the in
equalities of the path. In Ireland, however, these
works of comparatively remote antiquity are pre
served from total obliteration by the superstitions
of the people ; and not seldom even the uninformed
passer-by is struck by the appearance of warlike
design in the ditches and earthen ramparts that
inclose the mound or central area. Some are
destitute of these defences, and are supposed to
have been places of interment ; but all are now
peopled, in the imagination of the peasantry, with
fairies or evil spirits, and a plough rarely enters
within the enchanted circle.
The ruined abbeys of Inch and Saul are both
worth a visit, being only a short walk from Down-

42 IRELAND.
patrick ; but, if the traveller arrive about Mid
summer (which was not my good fortune), he must
at all events betake himself to the holy hill of
Struel. The plain at the foot of the hill is watered
by a stream proceeding from St. Patrick's Well, in
former times the well of a monastery built by St.
Patrick and St. Bridget. The stream in its course
forms or feeds several pools, which are covered
over with little buildings. To this place every
Midsummer resort crowds of devotees, not only
from other parts of Ireland, but also, it is said, from
France and Spain ; and the reader doubtless will
be well pleased with the following account of the
ceremonial, made up by Mr. Hardy, from an
article in a magazine formerly published at Bel-
fast.* " The penitents all proceed, in the first instance,
to Downpatrick, where each procures a portion of
holy soil from the grave of the patron saint of
Ireland. This grave is said to be distinguished
from all the surrounding burying-ground, by its
never giving birth to a single weed, nor to any other
herbs than grass and shamrock. From this place,
having procured a handful of sacred earth, they
proceed to some house in the town where masses are
said every day during the week, from morning till
night ; and, after a short delay, set off for Struel,

* Mr. Hardy's work, the " Northern Tourist," now out of print, is
interesting and amusing in no common degree.

PENANCE OF STRUEL. 43
The penance begins at the foot of the hill, which
they climb on their bare and bleeding knees by a
steep and stony path, originally intended as an
emblem of the way that leadeth to eternal life. A
few, whose sins are of a milder cast, may run up
this path barefoot ; but those who have been guilty
of black and grievous offences, besides crawling on
their knees, must carry a large rough stone, with
their hands placed on the back of their necks.
When they reach the top of the hill they run down
at a quick trot by the other side, and, returning to
the narrow path, ascend as before. This they re
peat three, seven, nine, or twelve times, or even a
much greater number, according to the nature of
their transgressions. The more respectable among
them keep their reckoning by beads, while the
poorer sort lift a pebble to mark each ascent. After
having thus completed their rounds, they are next
turned in what is called St. Patrick's chair. This
is a kind of chair formed of four rocks, so placed,
apparently by nature, that three of them serve as a
back and sides, and the' remaining one as a bottom
to the seat. It stands about the middle of the
mountain, at a short distance from the narrow path.
Each penitent takes a seat in this chair, and is
turned in it thrice, by a person who acts as super-
intendant of this part of the ceremony, and receives
a penny from each for his trouble. He resides in
the county of Mayo, whence he comes every year,
and, like most of the peasantry of that part of the

44 IRELAND.
country, speaks the purest dialect of the ancient
Irish. He boasts of the office having been in his
family ever since the days of St. Patrick, and ac
cordingly is well versed in the legends of the place,
which he takes great pleasure in communicating to
strangers. " When this part of the ceremony is ended, the
penitents descend into the plain, where they move
round certain cairns of stones, some crawling, some
running, as before. Each individual, however,
must carry a stone, which he adds to the heap.
'These cairns are in groups of seven arid twelve,
which respectively denote the days of the week, and
the months of the year, or, as some will have it,
the seven churches and the twelve apostles. Around
these they go seven times, or seven times seven, and
twelve, or twelve times twelve — measured, as be
fore, by their various degrees of criminality. The
next part of the ceremony is to proceed to the
large well, the body well, or, by some, the well of
sins. Before entering it, however, they approach
with profound reverence a flag of freestone, which
is placed on the wall, and is possessed of some pe
culiarly sanctifying powers. This they touch with
their fingers, and then cross themselves repeatedly,
and thus become prepared for the purifications of
the holy wells. If they can afford a few pence of
admission money, they may enter the larger well,
where they have a room to undress ; if not, they
must content themselves with the second, or limb

REWARDS OF DEVOTION. 45
well, into which they are admitted, free of expense,
being obliged, however, to strip themselves in the
adjoining fields. All modesty is here thrown aside.
As they approach the well, they throw off even
their under garments, and, with more than Lacede
monian indifference, before the assembled multi
tudes, they go forward in a state of absolute nudity,
plunge in, and bathe promiscuously. After such
immersion, they go through the ceremony of wash
ing their eyes, and conclude all by drinking from
the fourth well, called by some the well of forget-
fulness, and by others the water of life.
" Thus end the ceremonies of the day. Those of
the evening follow, and form a remarkable contrast.
The employments of the day seem to be considered
as the labours of virtue, those of the evening are
her rewards, by which they are amply compensated.
Their eyes, after having been bathed in the sacred
stream, instantly discover the flOwery path of plea
sure, which conducts them to the tents prepared
for their reception, where they are supplied with
copious draughts, of which the water of life is but
a faint emblem. In those tents, and in the ad
joining fields, under the canopy of a pure sky, they
spend the whole night, quaffing the soul-inspiring
beverage, and indulging in various gratifications to
which the time and place are favourable ; for it is
understood that, while the jubilee continues, and as
long as the happy multitudes remain on the sacred
ground, they cannot contract new guilt ! "

46

IRELAND,

This melancholy picture might be supposed, at
first sight, to apply only to a people in the -^'ery
lowest stage of civilization ; but, in fact, supersti
tion, even in its grossest form, is not inconsistent
with a certain degree of advancement in the social
scale. Such absurdities as these are not a part of
the Catholic religion — they are excrescences and
abuses, and are as much ridiculed, or deprecated,
by the well-informed portion of the Catholic popu
lation as by the Protestants, In education alone
consists the difference between the two classes of
the devout. Were the Irish peasantry as well
educated — so far as regards useful knowledge — as
the Scottish, even if they remained Catholics, there
would be nothing disgraceful to human reason in
their Catholicism, But the most curious fact
concerning the Struel well is to come. The holy
waters were accustomed to rise, and overflow,
exactly at twelve o'clock, every Midsummer eve ;
and to this miracle, managed by the very simple
machinery of sods removeable at pleasure — the
multitude looked as to the seal of their covenant. A
gentleman of Belfast, however, presumed one year
to prevent the manifestation from heaven, by boring
a hole in the embankment, and thus allowing the
water to escape. The result was, that on the suc
ceeding year there were comparatively few pilgrims;
but, in the year after, the number was as great as
if nothing had occurred to disturb their faith !
" Concerning the institution of these ceremonies

MIRACLE. 47
history is silent. Some of them are evidently of
Christian origin, while others have a resemblance
to Pagan customs, many of which had been early
adopted as improvements in the practices of the
Christian church. The precise period when Struel
acquired its wonderful qualities is not found in any
written record, nor on any coin, or any inscription.
But the Connaught peasant, who presides over the
ceremonies of the chair, supplies this blank in his
tory by the following account of their origin. Our
renowned saint, after his arrival in this part of Ire
land, was endeavouring to convert an old worthy of
the name of Mac Dhu. One day, as they were walk
ing through the plain now called Struel, on their way
from Ardglass, the chieftain's residence, to the mo
nastery of Saul, Mac Dhu was so powerfully moved
by St. Patrick's arguments in favour of Christianity,
that he at length consented that he himself, and all
his family should be baptized, if the saint could at
that moment miraculously procure a supply of water.
No river then passed through these places. St.
Patrick immediately struck him upon the foot with
a white rod which he usually carried, which bound
him firmly to the spot where he stood. At length,
however, the rod being lifted up, he walked for
ward ; but a stream of blood flowed from his foot.
The blood, after running a short distance, was
changed by the saint's command into a stream of
water, which has never since ceased to flow. The

48 IRELAND.
chieftain and all his followers professed their faith
in Christianity. The plain and mountain, together
with a considerable tract of the adjoining country,
were given up by Mac Dhu for the use of the
brethren of Saul, and consecrated by the saint.
The whole tract of land was named from the river
Struile, being a corrupted compound of two Irish
words struth fuile, or fola, signifying a stream of
blood. " In the year 1828 an effort was again made to
put a stop to these ceremonies, which for a time suc
ceeded, but they have since been carried on with
all their former vigour."
From Downpatrick the traveller may go to Bel
fast by the coach, or proceed, loiteringly, on the
bosom, or the banks of Strangford Lough, on the
south-eastern branch of which the former town
stands. The lough is an irregular sheet of water,
twenty miles long, and seven broad, communicating
with the sea by an inlet, called the Bay of Strang
ford, about seven miles long, and one in breadth.
It is dotted with islands — to the number of fifty-
four, some inhabited by men, some by cattle, and
some by rabbits, but the greater part altogether
desert. Towards the Belfast end of the lake are
Newtownards and Grey Abbey, both worth seeing,
but especially the latter, as well on account of the
ruins of its celebrated abbey, as of the rich and
variegated beauty of the scenery. There is an

SCOTTISH SETTLERS. 49
account given in the Montgomery MSS. of the
effects of the settlement of Ulster, in this part of
the province, by which (if true) it would appear,
that the benefits derived by the country from this
great measure must have been so instantaneous as
to partake of the miraculous.
" In the spring time, 1606," say the MSS.,
*' these parishes were now more wasted than Ame
rica (when the Spaniards landed there), but were
not at all encumbered with great woods, to be
felled and grubbed, to the discouragement or hin
drance of the inhabitants ; for in all those parishes
aforesaid thirty cabins could not be found, nor any
stone walls, but ruined roofless churches, and a few
vaults at Greyabbey, and a stump of an old castle
at Newtown, in each of which some gentlemen
sheltered themselves at their first coming over.
But Sir Hugh, in the said spring, brought with
him divers artificers, as smiths, masons, carpenters,
&c. They soon made cottages and booths for them
selves, because sods, and saplings of ashes, alders,
and birch trees (above thirty years old), with rushes
for thatch, and bushes for wattles, were at hand.
And also they made a shelter of the said stump of
the castle for Sir Hugh, whose residence was mostly
there, as in the centre of being supplied with ne
cessaries from Belfast (but six miles thence), who
therefore came and set up a market in Newtown,
for profit for both the towns. As likewise in the
summer season (twice, sometimes thrice, every week)
E

50 IRELAND.
they were supplied from Scotland, as Donaghadee
was oftener because but three hours' sail from Port-
patrick, where they bespoke provisions and neces
saries to lade in, to be brought over by their own
or that town's boats, whenever wind and weather
served them, for there was a constant flux of pas
sengers coming daily over. . . . 1607, you might
see streets and tenements regularly set out, and
houses rising out of the ground, as it were, like
Cadmus's colony, on a sudden, so that these dwel
lings became towns immediately. Yet among all
this care and indefatigable industry for their fami
lies, a place of God's honour to dwell in was not
forgotten or neglected ; for indeed our forefathers
were more pious than ourselves ; and so soon as
said stump of the old castle was so repaired (as it
was in the spring time, 1606), as might be shelter
for the year's summer and harvest, for Sir Hugh
and his servants that winter, his piety made some
good store of provisions in those fair seasons to
wards roofing and fitting the chancel of that church
for the worship of God ; and therein he needeth
not withdraw his own planters from working for
themselves, because there were Irish Gibeonites
and Garrons enough in his woods to hew and draw
timber for his sanctuary ; and the general free
contribution of the planters, some with money,
others with handicrafts, and many with labouring,
was so great and willingly given that the next year
after this, before winter, it was made decently ser-

GOLDEN AGE. 51
viceable, and Sir Hugh had brought over at first
two or three chaplains with him for these parishes.
In summer, 1608, some of the priory walls were
roofed and fitted for his lady and children, and
servants, which were many, to live in. Now every
body minded their trades, and the plough and the
spade, building and setting fruit-trees, &c. in
orchards and gardens, and by ditching in their
grounds : the old women spun, and the young girls
plied their nimble fingers at knitting — and every
body was innocently busy. Now the golden peace
able age renewed no strife, contention, querulous
lawyers, or Scottish or Irish feuds between clans and
families, and sirnames, disturbing the tranquillity
of those times, and the towns and temples were
erected, with other great works done even in trou
blesome years.
" He (Sir Hugh, the first Viscount Montgomery)
sent over to Donaghadee (by the understanding
Irish then called Doun-da-ghee, i, e, the mount, or
burial-place of the two worthies or heroes) before
him some hewn freestone, timber, and iron, &c., of
which he caused to be built a low stone-walled
house, for his reception and lodging when he came
from or went to Scotland, Mariners, tradesmen,
and others had made shelter for themselves before
this time, but the viscount's was the first stone
dwelling-house in all the parish, . , , He also
wholly repaired the church of Grayabbey,"
During the ten miles of road between New-
e2

52 IRELAND.
townards and Belfast, the traveller from the south
will have ample opportunity to moralize on the
change now so perceptible in the character and con
dition of the people. The rags, filth, and mud
hovels of the south, which, while they awakened
his compassion, alloyed it with disgust and con
tempt, are here -replaced, not only by seats and
villas, which are no test of general prosperity, but
also by what is far more pleasing to the eye, and
satisfactory to the mind — comfortable farm houses,
snug cottages, and a well-clad, respectable-looking
peasantry. " This is only natural/' remarks one reader, " it
is the effect of employment ; for we are approaching
the Irish capital of the useful arts." " It is the
effect of the change of races," maintains another ;
" for the preponderating mass of the population are
descendants of the prudent and industrious Scots."
Both are right, and yet both are wrong. The
Settlers of James I. occupied the country, as con
querors usually do, making the natives slaves or
outlaws, and propitiating, as far as possible, their
own followers. Had these followers been treated
like the natives, the Scots would have degenerated
into what were contumeliously termed " the mere
Irish." As it was, they preserved the habits of
their own nation, and, by means of neighbourhood
and intermarriage, elevated gradually the character
of their adopted country. It is not the effects of the
difference of blood which we see, but of the differ-

WHAT IS TO BE DONE ? 53
ence of social condition. In our day any thing can
be made of the " mere Irish ;" but to expect a
sudden regeneration by merely pouring in employ
ment, is to shut our eyes upon all history. Em
ployment, indeed, must be given ; but the mendi
cant and vagabond habits of the people must at the
same time be corrected by the operation of a poor
law. At the same time, also, political agitations
must be put down, and the fetters of superstition
relaxed or broken. These objects can be accom
plished only by education. The man who talks of
force or persecution, should be sent back to the
first form at school, and set to read the experience
of mankind anew.

CHAPTER IV.

Belfast — Character of the People — Religio-political Dissensions —
Other indications — Belfast Lough — Carrickfergus — Account of M.
Thurot, the French invader — Description of the Castle.

Belfast is reckoned the third town in Ireland ;
but, in a moral point of view, it is the first. Dublin
and Cork are great cities — but they are strictly
Irish cities ; while Belfast, if transported, with its
whole population, to England, would be reckoned
a credit to the country. Its intellectual character
I consider decidedly higher than that of an English
manufacturing town of the same importance ; while
its buildings, if they do not pretend to the exhibi
tion of taste, are at least, to outward appearance, the
abodes of ease and wealth.
The streets, generally speaking, are wide and
well aired ; and the houses by which they are lined
clean and respectable, although built of unstuccoed

PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION. 55
brick, as plain as a bandbox. The suburbs, in
habited by " the hewers of wood and drawers of
water" to the easier classes, have nothing of that
filth and misery which are almost an unfailing cha
racteristic of an Irish town. Every thing in and
around Belfast proclaims that it is the abiding place
of a shrewd and intelligent population, devoted to
worldly gain, and far from being unsuccessful in its
pursuit. This, of course, is a general picture ; for a town
which has more than doubled its numbers three
times within the last seventy years, must draw
constant supplies of population from the country ;
and to correct the habitual imprudence, and M^ant
of neatness, observable in the Irish peasant, must
be a work of time. A considerable number of the
masters, however, now provide their workmen with
lodgings ; and some of these establishments are
clean and wholesome, and extremely neat.
It need hardly be said that the peasantry are not
improved in morals by their transplantation from
comparative solitude into a crowd ; but it is agree
able to know that a steadily progressing improvement
in this particular is now going on. One of the
surest tests of the extent of this improvement is
the flourishing state of the Savings' Bank, The
gentleman who conducts the establishment in
formed me that he could trace clearly, by his books,
a gradual yet rapid amelioration in the character

IRELAND.

of the people, and more especially in that of the
females. In the midst of all their business, the upper
classes of Belfast have time to quarrel with each
other as fiercely — but without the shillela — as if
they were at Donnybrook fair. But what they
quarrel about I cannot tell. To say that it is re
ligion — at least the Christian religion, would be a
manifest absurdity ; and yet it somehow or other
happens that the belligerents always belong to a
different communion. No analogy taken from the
position of the Church and the Dissenters in
England can give the faintest idea of the motives
of social warfare in Ireland. Religion and politics,
no doubt, are the foundation ; but as, in chemistry,
two substances may produce a third, totally different
in its properties from both, so religion and politics
are the parents of an Irish somethitig, which is al
together destitute both of piety and common sense.
This something is only known in its effects — which
are a true monomania. When the morbid chord is
touched, there is no pitch of insanity too wild, no
depth of idiocy too humiliating, for the unhappy
patient. I have frequently spoken with men in
this condition, who were otherwise shrewd and in
telligent, but whose conversation filled me at once
with shame and compassion.
In Belfast such dissensions are nearly confined to
the upper classes, or small minority of the popula
tion ; and the parties being nearly balanced in

BELFAST. 57
numbers, the contest is the fiercer. As for the
lower classes. Catholic and Protestant are mingled
in the same manufactory, and no difference is ob
servable ; although an intelligent and accomplished
Protestant gentleman told me he would prpfer
Catholic workmen. When the people get drunk,
they, of course, quarrel and fight as usual ; and on
these occasions religion is sometimes made use of
as a party word.
I found the theatre, in external appearance, a
miserable looking house, not different from the
others in the same street, except by its desolate ap
pearance. This is one indication of character.
Another appears in the shape of a handsome silver
snuff-box in the Commercial Hotel ; an inscription
on which bears that it was presented to the civil,
active, and intelligent waiter — whose name, by the
same token, is James Prey — by the gentlemen fre
quenting the house, as a token of respect.
The town stands on low ground ; it has no
public buildings worth notice ; and the inhabitants,
except when labouring under the monomania I
have alluded to, are respectable discreet persons.
Such, however, was not always the character of
Belfast. A rude castle, dominating a village on
the brink of a ford, was the origin of the present
collection of commonplaces in brick ; and the an
cestors of the quiet, steady men of business of
to-day were the Scottish Presbyterians of the

58 IRELAND.
seventeenth century — a bold, crafty, and religious
race, who crossed the channel, to their promised land,
with a sword in one hand and a bible in the other.
The settlement of Ulster, the reader knows, was
determined on by James I., as a means of colonising
half a million of acres, forfeited in consequence of
the rebellion of Tyrone and Tyrconnel, and after
wards of Sir Cahir O'Doherty. The Irish fled
before these ruthless men, who possessed themselves
of the fertile parts of the country, leaving to such
of the natives as they did not massacre the moun
tain fastnesses, and other unproductive portions of
the soil. This arrangement has continued to the
present day ; and I have no doubt that it serves to
strengthen our prejudices against the Catholics,
who in general appear to be worse off than the
Protestants — a circumstance which is set down to
their professing a different form of the Christian
religion. Upon the whole, Belfast is not a place which can
delay long the steps of him who travels in search
of the picturesque, either in nature, or human cha
racter ; and, after a very brief sojourn, I pursued
my route northward.
The ride along the shores of Belfast Lough is
extremely agreeable. The sheet of water is beau
tiful, and so are the gently swelling hills by which
it is bound in, Carrickfergus is niched in an angle
of land, which seems to form the northern limits of

THE FRENCH INVADER. 59
the Lough, although this is in reality farther on ;
and the castle, of which a view is annexed, stands
upon a rock projecting into the sea.
Carrickfergus, notwithstanding its fine situation,
is a poor and dirty town, and swarms with beggars.
The castle is of considerable antiquity, and has its
due share of interest in Irish history. It was here
King William landed, when he came, like one of the
knightly princes of an earlier age, to fight out his
quarrel with King James. Long before, it had
been the landing place of Edward Bruce ; and long
after, of M. Thurot, who, with a small force of three
frigates and six hundred men, entered the Bay of
Carrickfergus to attempt the conquest of Ireland
for the French. M. Thurot was a very extraor
dinary man in his way ; and perhaps the reader
will not be displeased to have before him the follow
ing brief notice of his life, taken from the Annual
Register for 1760.
" He was born in Boulogne. His paternal grand
father. Captain Farrell, was a native of Ireland,
and an officer in the army of James II. With that
monarch he fled to France, where he died. His
widow survived but a very short time, during
which she gave birth to a son in Boulogne, who
was left to the care of her family, and went by the
name of Thurot. Remaining in Boulogne many
years, he became acquainted with one Farrel, an
Irish smuggler, who claimed relationship with him.
His son (afterwards commodore Thurot) who was

60 IRELAND.
then about fifteen years of age, embarked with
Farrell for Limerick ; but stopping at the Isle of
Man, a dispute took place between them, and
young Thurot hired himself to a gentleman of
Anglesea, This person was an experienced smug
gler, and had several vessels in the trade, in one
of which Thurot sometimes went. Upon one occa
sion he was sent to Carlingford, where he re
mained almost a year, to manage some business of
importance. At Carlingford he acquired a tolerable
knowledge of the English language ; and, instead
of returning to his master set off for Dublin,
with only a few shillings in his pocket. There
he entered into the service of Lord B  , with
whom he lived nearly two years, under the name of
Dauphine. He next entered into the service of the
Earl of Antrim, and went with the family to Glen
arm, where, falling in with some smugglers, he
joined them, and made several trips between Ireland
and Scotland. Having acquired some money, he
proceeded to Edinburgh, where he became ac
quainted with a Mr. V  ; and was for some
time master of one of his sloops, called the Annie,
which traded to London. From 1743 till 1752 he
traded between England and France ; and chiefly to
Boulogne, where at last he was arrested as a smug
gler. Having remained for some time in prison at
Dunkirk, he was transmitted to Paris, where he
underwent an examination as to the most effectual
means of checking the contraband trade. Through

CASTLE OF CARRICKFERGUS. 61
the interest of M. Tallard, the son of his godmother,
he not only obtained his liberty, but also the com
mand of a sloop of war; and in 1759, owing to his
knowledge of the channel, was selected to command
the squadron which was sent to Ireland. This
squadron was eventually captured off the Isle of
Man, and Thurot killed in the action."
Being accidentally prevented from delivering an
introduction to Mr. M'Skimin, the author of a
History of Carrickfergus, I shall so far make use of
that gentleman, as to describe the castle in his own
words. " 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 pas
sage, with embrasures for fire-arms. About the
centre of this passage was formerly a drawbridge ;
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 stones, melted lead, or the like,
fall on the assailants. Inside this gate is a port
cullis, and an aperture for the like purpose as that
just mentioned ; the arches on each side of this
aperture 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

62 IRELAND.
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 con
sist 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 vaiilts, 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,
" Southward, on the right, is the passage into the
inner yard or upper balium, by a gate with a semi
circular arch, above which is a long aperture, circu
lar at the top. Inside, this aperture opens consider
ably; and, on each side, are niches in the wall,
apparently to protect those who defended the gate —
northward of which are several similar apertures,
and on the south, a square tower, near which is a
small door, or sally-port, with semicircular arch, and
ornamented. The openings above this gate, and in
the wall, appear to have been originally intended
for the discharging of arrows ; the top of the wall
overhead seems to have been formerly garrated for
a like purpose,
" Within this yard, which is encompassed by a

THE KEEP. 63
high wall, is a small magazine, built a few years
since, several store-houses, and the keep, or donjon,
a square tower ninety feet high. Both the south
and east sides of this tower face the inner yard,
its west wall forming a part of the outside
building : its north wall faces the outer yard. The
walls of the keep are eight feet ten inches thick ;
the entrance is on the east by a semicircular door in
the second story. On the left of the entrance is a
small door, now built up, by which was formerly a
passage in the south-east corner, by helical stone
stairs, to the ground floor and top of the tower. In
this passage were loop-holes for the admission of air
and light ; and opposite each story a small door
that opened into the different apartments. At
present the ascent to the top is partly by wooden
stairs inside. The ground story of the keep is
bomb proof, with small slits looking into the inner
yard. It is believed to have been anciently a state
prison, and is now the principal magazine in this
garrison. Several rooms in the other stories are
occupied as an armoury, and for other military
stores. On the top of the tower are two small
houses ; that on the south-east corner covers the
mouth of the passage ; the other, on the south-west
corner, seems to have been intended for a sentinel.
" The tower is divided into five stories : 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

64 IRELAND.
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."

CHAPTER V.

Larne — Island Magee — The Gobbins — Superstitions of the People —
Witches — Fairies — Brovvmies — Banshee — Wraiths — Warning Signs —
Evil Eye — Superstitions relating to the Daily Occupations — Priests
and Ministers — The Dead — A pious Traveller — Road to Glenarm —
The Castle— The Bay— Road to Cushendall— Vale of Glenariff—
Traits of Character.

Pursuing the road from Carrickfergus to Larne,
it soon was lost among precipitous hills, which rose
around in the wildest confusion. The road carried
straight on over them all ; and the driver invariably
walked his horses up the steep, and galloped at full
speed down. During daylight this was not unplea
sant ; but when it darkened by degrees, till little
was seen distinctly except the coast lights on the
island Magee, I felt a little queer, in thus plung
ing helter skelter into an abyss of which I knew
not the nature or termination. Frequently I was
startled by a wild cry from a peasant, as he sprang
out of the way of the headlong vehicle.

66 IRELAND.
Larne is an uninteresting little town, of about
three thousand inhabitants, whose only business is
carried on in a bleachfield, and a few flour-mills.
It stands, however, in a fine situation, in an angle
of the lough of the same name, bounded on the
south by the island Magee. On the northern side
of the harbour, are the ruins of the castle of Older-
fleet, and, farther on. Black Cave Head ; while, in
the offing, the Nine Maidens, or Whillan Rocks,
and the coast of Scotland in the distance, give
variety to the picture.
The island Magee is in reality an isthmus, with
the sea on one side, and Larne Lough on the other.
There are here the ruins of several churches and
castles, and a druidical altar, of itself said to be
worth a visit ; but the singular wildness of a por
tion of the coast-side is the great attraction. The
basaltic rocks, called the Gobbins, present a breast
work to the sea, several hundred feet sheer down ;
and this stupendous wall is drilled into caverns,
formerly the haunt of banditti, and are covered
with flocks of sea-fowl.
In 1641, the little peninsula was entirely depo
pulated by some English and Scottish soldiers from
Carrickfergus, who threw the inhabitants, men,
women, and children, over the rocks. At present
the population is very small, in proportion to the
extent of the soil, and of the rude and simple cha
racter which might be expected in such a place.
The people are extremely superstitious ; and, so late

SUPERSTITIONS. 67
as 1711, afforded veritable witches, who stood their
trial for the crime at Carrickfergus, and were
found guilty. Among other freaks attributed to
them, were causing the counterpanes of the beds
to roll themselves up in the form of a corpse, and
instructing a certain bolster to walk into the kit
chen with a night-gown about it. The accused,
who were industrious, church-going people, were
condemned to twelve month's imprisonment, and
to stand four times in the pillory. In undergoing
the latter part of their sentence, they were severely
injured by the mob.
Mr. Mc Skimin gives an account of the super
stitions common in this part of the country ; and,
as it applies, in a greater or less degree, to the whole
of the north of Ireland, I think it well to extract it.
" There exists still a belief in charms, and the
the powers of witchcraft ; but for the marvellous
effects of its power we are commonly referred to a
distant period. The received opinion of witches is,
that they are old wrinkled hags, who sold them
selves to the devil to obtain a part of his occult art,
such as taking the milk or butter from their neigh
bour's cows, or riding through the air on a broom
stick.' A belief still prevails of the existence of
fairies ; and their non-appearance at present is
alleged to arise from the general circulation of the
Scriptures. Fairies are described as little spirits,
who were always clad in green, and inhabited the
green mounts called forths. Numerous stories are
V 2

68 IRELAND.
told of their being seen at those places, ' dancing
on the circling wind ' to the music of the common ¦
bagpipe. The large hawthorns growing singly in
the fields, are deemed sacred to fairies, and are
hence called gentle thorns. Some fields east of
Carrickfergus were formerly called ' The Fairy
Fields.' Brownies, now alleged to be extinct, were
another class of the same family. They are de
scribed as large, rough, hairy spirits, who lay about
the fires after the people went to bed. A warning
spirit, in the likeness of an old woman, called Ouna,
or the Banshee, is said to have been anciently
heard, wailing shortly before the death of any per
son belonging to certain families. At present this
spirit is almost forgotten. Wraiths are still talked
of as being seen. These are described as the
shadowy likeness of a person appearing a short time
before the decease of the real person. Other warn
ings and appearances are also believed to be death-
warnings, such as strange noises, the shadowy
likeness of a waving napkin, &c. It is believed
that the luck of a cow, or any other animal, may be
taken away by a look or glance of the eye of certain
people, some of whom are said to be unconscious of
their eye having this effect. It is called ' the blink
of an evil eye,' and the charm is believed to extend
in some instances to children. When this is
alleged to occur, the persons are said to be over
looked, or overseen ; and it is supposed that the
person will not recover, unless some charm is used

SALT, HORSE-SHOES, AND CRICKETS. 69
to counteract its effects. There is an opinion that
certain people are able to take milk from a cow
without touching her, or the butter from the milk,
letting the milk remain. When churning or mak
ing cheese, fire is never suffered to be taken out of
the house during the operation. The first time
that a cow is milked after calving it is common to
put a piece of silver in the bottom of the pail, and
to milk upon it. Salt is in daily use with some in
a similar way, to prevent witchcraft. Horse-shoes
are nailed on the bottom of the churn for a like
purpose, and old nails from horse-shoes are some
times driven in churn-staffs. Certain days are
deemed unlucky ; few persons will remove to or
from a house, or service, on Saturday, or the day
of the week on which Christmas is held that year.
On New-year's-day, and May-day, fire is rarely
permitted to be taken out of houses, lest they loose
their luck. Persons going on a journey have often
an old man's shoe thrown after them, that they may
come speed in the object of their pursuit. Crickets
coming to a house are held to bode some change to
the family, but are commonly deemed a good omen.
A stray dog or cat coming and remaining in a
house is deemed a token of good fortune.
" The people who follow the fishing business re
tain a different class of superstitions, but are not
communicative to others on this head. The fol
lowing have been observed. Meeting certain per
sons in the morning, especially women, when

70

IRELAND.

bare-footed, is deemed an omen of ill fortune for
that day. To name a dog, cat, rat, or pig, wJiile
baiting their hook, is surmised to forebode ill luck
on that day's fishing. They always spit on the
first and last hook they bait, and in the mouth of
the first fish taken off the hook or line.
" Although the people are generally Protestants,
yet, if 'a person is suddenly deranged, or a child
overseen, the lower orders rarely apply to their
own minister for relief, but to some Roman Catholic
priest, and receive from him what is called a
priest's book. This book, or paper, is sewed to the
clothes of the afflicted person, or worn in an amulet
about the neck ; if lost, a second book is never
given to the same person. It has also been ob
served, that if a Protestant of any denomination,
male or female, is married to a Roman Catholic,
the Protestant, three times out of four, becomes a
Roman Catholic, and generally a zealous one. The
Roman Catholic seldom becomes a Protestant.
" On the death of a person, the nearest neigh
bours cease working till the body is interred.
Within the house where the deceased is, the dishes,
and all other kitchen utensils, are removed from
the shelves or dressers ; looking-glasses covered or
taken down; clocks are stopped, and their dial-
plates covered. Except in cases deemed very in
fectious, the corpse is always kept one night, and
sometimes two. This sitting with the corpse is
called the wake, from Like-wake (Scottish), the

PIOUS TRAVELLER. 71
meeting of the friends before the funeral. These
meetings are generally conducted with great deco
rum ; portions of the Scriptures are read, and
frequently a prayer is pronounced, and a psalm
given out, fitting for the solemn occasion. Pipes
and tobacco are always laid out on a table, and
spirits and other refreshments are distributed
during the night. If a dog or cat passes .over the
dead body, it is immediately killed, as it is be
lieved that the first person it would pass over after
wards would take the falling sickness. A plate
with salt is frequently set on the breast of the
corpse, which is said to keep the same from swell
ing. Salt was originally used in this way as ' an
emblem of the immortal spirit.' "
In the little inn at Larne, I found in my bed
room a copy of the " Pilgrim's Progress," with this
inscription, addressed to the landlady by some pious
traveller. " To Mrs. Stewart, from one who
earnestly desires that she may be of the number of
those, who, being redeemed by the blood of the
Lamb, through faith and patience endure linto the
end, seeing him who is invisible. August 22nd,
1827, C.C."
I set out for Glenarm in a storm of rain, which
almost completely hid the face of the country. I
was now mounted on a small car which carried the
mail, and was drawn by a spirited horse, managed
by a still more spirited driver. The road was
good, and, from the little I could see, extremely

72 IRELAND.
picturesque. On the right the bold headland of
Ballygally, a promontory composed of basaltic
pillars, is visible almost the whole way, with the
ruins of Carne castle near it, on a rock in the sea.
On the left, a range of hills, terminating with
Knockloo, or the Black Hill, an irregular cone of
the character which is usually seen in Wicklow.
The road, as we approached Glenarm, skirted
closely along the sea-side ; and, from its wall of
loose stones, arose here and there picturesque masses
of lime-stone rock, resembling at a little distance
the ruins of castles. The aspect of the sea from this
part of the road was nothing less than sublime.
The wind was in shore, and it came in those tem
pestuous squalls which a sailor describes by saying,
" it blows great guns." The waves broke upon the
shore in an attitude of majesty which I have rarely
observed before ; and in those places where the road
skirted closely along the rocks, we were repeatedly
drenched by clouds of spray.
Glenarm, situated in a nook of the coast, and its
white houses dominated by a castle, had what is
called a romantic appearance ; but, under the cir
cumstances, I was more inclined to explore the in
terior of the hotel than the flooded street. Next
morning the weather was still Irish in the extreme ;
but at'this late season it was impossible to give up
anything to the fear of wind or water, and I sallied
forth in the midst of the storm, and walked to the
top of one of the hills which inclose the valley.

BAY OF GLENARM. 73
From this place the appearance of the town is
extremely picturesque. It is seated at the bottom
of a little narrow bay, and extends longitudinally
into the valley, with the castle in the midst. This
edifice has lately undergone a thorough repair, in a
taste which has been severely, and I think unjustly,
criticised. It seems to me to retain a great deal of
the character of a baronial residence. It is the
property of the Antrim family ; and is inhabited at
present by Mr, Mc Donnell, who married the
Countess of Antrim.
The little town is neatly built, but it is very poor.
A salmon fishery gives employment to a good many
of its inhabitants in the summer ; but their only
other resource is their small portion of land. There
is nothing squalid, however, in the appearance
either of them or their houses ; although, indeed,
the latter are not so uniformly whitewashed as
ought to be the case where lime is so plenty.
The bay in which Glenarm is situated is itself
embosomed in a much wider one ; of which the ex
treme northern angle, at the distance of five miles,
is Garron Point, a fine headland, extending far out
into the sea. The town is built on the right bank
of a stream, which waters the castle walls, and falls
into the sea.
I set out for Cushendall in the midst of tem
pestuous gusts of wind, loaded with sharp rain,
which told like small shot. The views, notwith
standing, were very fine, with the open sea to the

74 IRELAND.
right, and swelling hills on the left. As we ad
vanced, and especially after passing the village of
Cairnclough, the shore scenery became more varied,
and the Garron Head, to which we were approach
ing, by circling round the edge of the sea, assumed
a bolder and more picturesque attitude. On passing
the Garron Point, near which is the massive rock
of Dunmaol, with the traces of a Danish fort on its
summit, a still more striking change took place.
The basaltic pillars, soon to be more accurately
defined as we approach the Causeway, are here
seen as if in a rude unfinished state ; the hills,
without altogether gaining the altitude, assume the
physiognomy of mountains ; and they descend
either sheer down, or in terraced precipices, form
ing in some places a wall of pillars. As we pass them
successively, they assume, when we look back, a
grand and imposing aspect ; the front, which they
present to the sea, being at the top perpendicular,
and below jutting outwards like the scarp of a
fortress of the middle ages. The road is carried
along the shore through every obstacle, a fact
which is attested by huge masses of limestone,
which occasionally threaten destruction to the tra
veller. Further on, a limestone rock appears in a
grotesque figure, which the imagination may easily
invest with a resemblance to humanity. This is
called Clocher Stucken, and was formerly believed
to mark the extreme northern point of Ireland.
A peasant girl on the car repeated a story which

HEDGE-SCHOOLS. 75
I knew to be current upon the subject, that this
was one of the giants who constructed the Cause
way, and who were turned into stones for their
presumption by the enchantments of the Druidical
priesthood. My informant, however, candidly
added, looking up in my face with the honest ex
pression of one who would not willingly impose
upon a traveller, that she had heard this only at
second hand, and therefore could not undertake
to say what truth there might be in the state
ment. The vale of Glenariff forms a very remarkable
break in the scenery. It is inclosed by lofty and
picturesque hills, and the stream from which it de
rives its name falls into the sea at Red Bay. There
are here some caverns, in the reddish clay of which
the soil is formed, that are not very remarkable, and
after this the road runs under an irregular Gothic
arch through the soil. One of the caverns served
formerly for a school, and was probably more com
fortable than such places generally are in the more
solitary districts of Ireland. They are sometimes
merely sod-hovels, built in the ditch of a highway,
whence their namC' of hedge-schools. They are, of
course, uninhabitable in winter, and deserted at
harvest-time ; and the education they afford, there
fore, is little more than nominal. Just after emerg
ing, some ruins appear on the steep above, said to
be remains of a castle of the Elizabethan age. Cush-
enhall is neat and well situated ; but I found the

76

IRELAND.

inn, which is at the further extremity of the town,
very ill provided with the materials for a good
dinner, although a carte of the wines was affixed in
the parlour. If the traveller must rest a night
upon his journey, I would recommend him to give
the preference to Glenarm.
From a little incident which occurred in the course
of the ride, I received rather an unfavourable im
pression of the manly gallantry extended in this part
of thecountry by the male sex to the other. When
protecting myself from the rain during those pauses
of the blast when it was possible to hold up an
umbrella, I extended the protection, as a matter of
course, to the peasant girl alluded to — who hap
pened to be neither pretty nor neatly dressed. She
appeared surprised, and, at first overcome with the
awkwardness of feeling herself in a new situation ;
she said she had never before received such kind
ness from a gentleman ; and, when I explained her
niistake, informing her that no man could by possi
bility be entitled to the name of a gentleman who
acted otherwise, her surprise amounted to astonish
ment. On parting at Cushendall with this girl,
who, in addition to the plainness of her features
and the penury of her dress, spoke an odious
farrago of Scottish and Irish, she turned fully
round, and, with more than the grace of a peeress
(for nature is more graceful than art), thanked me
warmly for my attention.
But another trait must be recorded. When the

TRAIT OF CHARACTER. 77
Storm was at its highest, a young girl darted out of
a cottage by the road side, and desired my com
panion, whom she called Kitty, to give her her
cloak directly, " and take that" — offering a mi
serable, threadbare cotton rag. Kitty complied at
once ; and, when I asked whether the young woman
had borrowed her cloak, and if she were her sister —
"Oh no!" she replied, "it is only a girl of our
village, who is out here visiting a sick friend, and
seeing that I am likely to get home much faster
than she can travel on foot— not to talk of your
umbrella. Sir — she wished me to exchange my
warm cloth cloak for her thin cotton one : and that
is all fair, you know." " Would she do as much
for you?" demanded I. "'Deed would she," re
plied Kitty, with generous warmth, " and more
nor that!" The reader may smile at my little
details ; but it is of such minute touches that
is formed the true portraiture of character. Great
events occur very rarely ; and, when they do occur,
the mind rises from its ordinary level to meet
them. In extremity of danger, for instance, a man
may, and often does, perform a brave action who is
naturally and habitually a coward. On the other
hand, in the little incidents of every-day life, which
come without being noted, we act unconsciously as
nature dictates.

CHAPTER VI.

Cushendall — Remarkable hill — Cushendun — Caverns of Red Bay —
Paddy Mackay's kitchen— The Stocking-knitter — Passage of the
Carey Mountain — Dinner at a Shebeen — Learning of the Irish
peasantry — Ballycastle — Smuggling anecdote — Knocklead — Cairn of
the Three — Black Nun of Bona Margy — Ruined Castles.

Cushendall is situated in a narrow valley,
forming a little nook of the coast in Red Bay. It
is built partly in the valley, which is watered by a
a rapid stream, and partly on the steep side of one
of the hills which overtop it. This peculiarity of
situation gives it an air of romance, as its white
houses are seen gleaming through the trees. There
is nothing of note, however, in the interior, unless
it be a small square tower, intended for a prison.
In the morning I climbed the street on the hill, if
it be lawful to call that a street which, to all ap
pearance, was the bed of a mountain torrent ; and,

FINGALIAN METAMORPHOSES. 79
at the summit, enjoyed one of the most extensive
views I had seen for a long time of cultivated land,
inclosed in an amphitheatre of hills. The most
remarkable of these in form, although not in
height, which is called Lurgeidan, I had before
seen from different points of view, and it always
appeared to be a new component part of the picture.
It had followed me to the village ; and I had seen
it from the lower street, shutting in the avenue
almost as abruptly as the mountain described in a
former volume of this work, as overhanging the
High Street of Innsbruck, in the Tyrol. Now it
had shifted its position anew, retiring to some dis
tance, and forming a portion of the lofty barrier
which I have described as surrounding the granary
of Cushendall. From whichever point it was
beheld, however, its form remained the same-^that
of a vast circular mass, rising majestically to a
considerable height, and terminating in an almost
flat summit, with sides as perpendicular as the
walls of a fortress. Had Ovid been an Irishman,
he would have sung this hill as one of the meta
morphosed' comrades of Fingal, who still continued
to watch the Druid passes, and haunt the steps of
the stranger with menace and suspicion. Among
the group of hills, there was one of an almost semi
circular figure, like the broader part of an egg,
which formed a remarkable and pleasing object in
the chain of rugged and abrupt ridges around it.
Finding that the mail-car was not to set out for

80 IRELAND.
Ballycastle till the afternoon, I engaged the driver
to take me up on the road, and walked round by
the coast. It was still tempestuous, but fairer than
yesterday, and I enjoyed the walk very much to
Cushendun. The hills on this side of Red Bay
are without the remarkable ridges which distinguish
those on the other side ; and, as there is hardly a
tree on the whole route, I found the landward view
rather monotonous. I at length reached the next
bay, where a wide valley is divided, about a mile
inland, into two, by a broad and lofty hill abutting
into the middle. The vistas up these lateral
valleys showed that they were cultivated, at least at
the bottom, which was also the case with the main
valley. Here there were cottages, and groups of
houses, thinly scattered ; and, near the sea, some
white houses, which bear, par excellence, the name
of Cushendun. Beside these there is a station of
the water-guard. The whole of the valley is poor,
A little digging, a little fishing, a little smuggling,
produce in the whole but a little subsistence. To
the right of the bay there is a strange rocky nook,
where the sides of the steep are perforated with
caverns, that present rather a singular aspect. In
front, a huge formless mass stands perfectly isolated ;
and, farther on, another has the appearance of a
wild bridge connecting a rock in the sea with the
main land. The largest cavern perforates com
pletely the cliff, which is at this part narrow, and
of a grotesquely irregular form. It seems to be

PADDY mackay's KITCHEN. 81
used at present as a store-house ; but the inscriptions
and initials cut in the walls testify that it has been
visited from curiosity by numerous travellers. I
have never had the ambition, or the vanity —
whichever be the guiding motive— to wish to im
mortalize myself by such means ; but fate, as if in
recompense of my virtuous humility, has taken
care that the letters L, R. are the most conspicuous
in the cavern. It was in contemplation to construct
a pier at this place, but the project is either aban
doned altogether, or indefinitely postponed ; al
though a practical example of the inconvenience
arising from the want of one lay on the shore, in
the form of a stranded and damaged fishing-
boat. My paction with the car-driver provided that I
was to meet him at a certain Paddy Mackay's,
about a mile from this spot ; but, on reaching the
trysting place, I found it was yet some hours till
the time appointed. The wind had moderated, but
the rain increased ; and I resigned myself, with a
sigh, to a bench in Paddy Mackay's kitchen. Paddy
himself was busy out of doors, and his wife was
interested in nothing but her wheel. At length a
country girl came in, to deliver a pair of stockings,
which she had knitted, and her conversation helped
to pass a little more time. She informed me that,
if blessed with full employment, it was possible for
her to earn twenty pence per week by knitting
stockings ; but that women in that part of the
G

82 IRELAND.
country were to be envied if they made half the
money. Spinning produced scarcely anything.
Their husbands and brothers, not having sufficient
employment at home, went to Scotland and else
where in search of something to do. While they
were absent, the women did the work of the fields ;
but this was never known to be the case when a
man was at home and unemployed.
The peasants' huts in this valley were in general
of a poor description ; and yet, in looking into them,
I found nothing resembling the bareness and desti
tution of the south. When the stocking-girl went
away, I waited patiently for some time, in expectation
of other customers whom I might entrap into con
versation : but no one came. The carman had ex
pressly told me that he would not allow me to
" face" the Carey Mountain without him ; but this
only piqued my curiosity, and I at length set out to
walk at least a part of the way to Ballycastle, The
road, forsaking the valley, or the three valleys,
climbed the side of a barren hill, covered with
gray stones, and this I found was the Carey moun
tain. Judging by appearances, I should have pro
nounced it to be quite inaccessible to carriages, but
the oral evidence was against me. As I toiled up
the desolate path, I became hungry, and began to
feel some anxiety as to the distance it might be
necessary to walk before reaching a place where
this appetite might be gratified. On arriving at
the last habitation on the shoulder of the hill, I

t
DINNER AT A SHEBEEN. 83
was told that I should meet with no other human
habitation for six or seven miles ; and, as this was
a public-house, I determined to stay and dine.
The hostess seemed at first to feel her poverty in
sulted by being asked for dinner ; and answered
briefly that the potatoes which I saw smoking before
me in an iron pot were all her house afforded. Ap
parently mollified, however, by the good humour
with which I accepted this bill of fare, and by the
readiness with which I prepared to draw in my
stool to the fire-side, she put on the fire a small
portion of salted cod-fish, which eventually, with
the aid of melted butter, gave a wonderful flavour
to the potatoes. While the cookery ¦was going on,
I retired into the inner chamber, the sleeping-room
(and I believe the only one) of the family, and sat
down at a table to indite these pages. Let me tell
you, reader, that salted cod-fish and potatoes are
not bad fare for a pedestrian traveller on the Carey
Mountain. A peasant who sat by the fire-side in the kitchen was
very learned in Irish history. He told me the number
of schools, and even the number of scholars, that were
in the island a thousand years before the Christian
era. He related, also, the principal Fingalian legends;
and talked with admiration of a book called " The
Cosmogony of the World." Such is the knowledge
possessed by the Irish peasantry, when they possess
any knowledge at all. Amidst their store of old-
world learning, there is nothing that can be turned
G 2

84 IRELAND.
to any useful account. In the scraps of Latin which
some of them give forth as something rare and
precious, I never heard any maxim conveyed which
could tend to the elevation of their character either
as men or citizens.
The Carey Mountain rises like an Alp between
the habitable parts of the country ; and soon after
the mail-car overtook me, the road presented as
dreary and savage an aspect as any I have travelled
in Switzerland. Not a house, not a tree, not a
shrub appeared — nothing, as far as the eye could
reach, but an expanse of black heath. Near the
summit of this dismal mountain, there is a lake, to
the right of the road — if one can call, with pro
priety, such a thing a road. Like the Irishman,
who was carried in a sedan chair, without top, seat,
or bottom, I may say that but for the honour of
the thing, I would rather have walked : and, in
fact, I did foot it to the very summit, nor was
there any possibility of managing otherwise.
A new road has been constructed at considerable
labour and expense ; but, by what I cannot help
thinking a blunder, it has been macadamized in
almost its whole length. The ©(bnsequence is, that
the old road, notwithstanding its miserable condi
tion is by far the easier drag of the two, and pro
bably will continue to be so, in this little-frequented
route, for twenty or thirty years to come. Since
the new road is made, however, I would recommend
the old one to be shut up instantly, as the only

BALLYCASTLE. 85
means of directing the current of traffic to its
intended channel.
At the summit of the mountain the view was
extremely fine, and would have been still more so,
had there remained enough of daylight to see it
by. The magnificent mountain of Knocklead was
before us a . little to the left, with the dull sky ap
pearing to rest heavily upon its head. To the right
were the promontory of Fairhead, and the island of
Rathlin, with the measureless sea beyond. This
was all which the state of the atmosphere enabled
me to see distinctly, but, seen from such a spot, the
very dimness and mystery of the picture rendered
it sublime. On approaching Ballycastle, I could have ima
gined myself suddenly transported to some English
sea-side retreat for the gay and opulent ; but the
aristocratic looking houses, in a nook of the bay,
which gave me this idea, are only a suburb of the
little town. Even in itself, however, Ballycastle is
certainly superior to most places of its size in Ire
land, although of late years it has greatly fallen off
in trade and resources. Mr. Boyd, the proprietor,
in his single person, carried on a business — or
rather a series of businesses — sufficient for the
support of a moderate sized town. His corn-mills,
salt-pans, coaleries, breweries, soap-boiling works,
&c. &c., all went on at the same moment ; and in
the harbour, then fully employed, the free trade
contributed as much as the fair trade to enrich the

86 IRELAND.
place. All this, or about all, is now over ; and the
prospects of this enterprising family have terminated
in two deaf and dumb heirs.
The townspeople live like other peasants, occa
sionally employing themselves in fishing, and
occasionally in weaving at home. The Protestants
and Catholics are nearly balanced, and no worldly
difference is perceptible in the professors of the
two forms of Christianity, Before the establishment
of the water-guard, smuggling was carried on here
on a very extensive scale ; and there can hardly be
conceived any thing more inefficient than the re
venue system which this replaced. I was told by
one of the inhabitants, as a capital joke, that he had
landed one day eleven boat loads of rum and tobacco
in the open bay, while the four custom-house
officers stationed in the place were drinking with
his master. In carrying the goods up the street,
the smugglers were met by these worthies, reeling
home ; who, however, were either too blind to see
them, or too helplessly drunk to interfere.
The establishment of the water-guard here, as
elsewhere, was attended by one mistake, which,
especially on a coast like this, diminished much its
efficiency. Instead of employing men who knew
the coast, utter strangers were sent from England ;
and for some time smuggling went on as before.
Lieutenant Seeds, however, the first chief of the
guard, was a desperate fellow. He boarded smug
glers of the largest class, and used his fire-arms

SMUGGLING ANECDOTE. 87
freely. His fate was deeply tragic. One day a
fine American vessel, either not aware of the new
coast police, or presuming upon its own giant
strength, stood boldly into the bay, and fired two
guns either in warning or defiance. Seeds would
not be warned, and determined not to be defied
with impunity. He got a small smack, manned
her with eleven stout fellows, armed with muskets,
pistols, and cutlasses, and stood boldly out to sea.
The twelfth man belonging to his force was too late
to get on board. He had waited for a moment " to
dig a few potatoes for his wife," before embarking
on the perilous enterprise ; and, although the boat
had only just left the quay when he reached the
spot, Seeds swore that he should not be taken on
board, but that the moment he returned he would
have him broken. My informant heard the orders
given by the lieutenant to his men, which were that
they were to lie flat on the deck till they reached
their prize, and then fire a volley, and board in the
smoke. Onward bounded the adventurous smack, and in
glided the haughty American to meet her. No
strife, no struggling, no firing, told of the collision.
The smack disappeared from the face of the waters,
under her enemy's keel, and the smuggler continued
her course into the bay, stately, and alone.
Only one man rose. He was the owner of the
smack, whom Seeds had tempted, with a large sum,
to lend his vessel, and his personal assistance. He

88 IRELAND.
succeeded in climbing up the chains, but his brains
were immediately dashed out with a handspike.
This victim's hat was found some time after on the
opposite coast of Scotland, with his name inscribed
in it. No smuggling of any consequence has
taken place in this neighbourhood for the last three
years, Ballycastle should be the tourist's head quarters
for some time. For my own part, being under the
" curse of the wandering foot," I was unable to
remain as long as I could have wished ; but the
only difference this made was, that I worked the
harder while there, and converted into a toil what
ought to have been a pleasure. As for mere bodily
toil, I do not reckon it a part of the inconvenience,
when the traveller is in good health, and not old ;
but to be compelled to crowd the mind with images,
which must be seized and examined one by one,
and arranged and classified within a given time, is
to throw the present enjoyments of travelling into a
reversionary fund. Still, however, this fund is al
ways sure, and, with imaginative men, it bears a
good round interest.
A walk to the summit of Knocklead, one of the
Aura mountains, close to Ballycastle, was not fa
tiguing in the true sense of the word. The picture
which lay outspread before me, although grand and
various, was but a single picture. Its component
parts harmonized with each other, and contributed
towards the same impression. Seventeen hundred

CAIRN OF THE THREE. 89
feet higher in the air than when I set out, I felt as
if the elastic and buoyant spirit within had risen in
the same proportion. Behind me lay a chain of
mountains, and before, the majestic sea, with the
hills of Argyle beyond. These, however, are
merely words, that may, or may not, call up ideas ;
but there was something in addition, which is not
contained in the nomenclature of landscape painting.
It was not the idea of vastness which elevates the
merely beautiful to the sublime ; it was not the
rich and sparkling sunshine in which the whole
scene was steeped ; it was not the feeling of awe,
generated by the loftiness of the spectator's position,
which seems to place the whole world at his feet :
but it was something produced by the mingling of
all these. My seat at this moment was the Cairn of
the Three, a tumulus where, according to old tra
dition, three Danish princesses, after many wander
ings and sorrows, found a final resting place.
This mountain is believed by the peasantry to
contain in its bosom a reservoir of water, destined
one day to rush forth, and inundate the country to
the extent of seven miles around. Such was the
prophecy of Sheelah Dubhni Malone, the Black
Nun of Bona Margy, who formerly resided in the
Franciscan abbey of that name, and enjoyed a high
reputation for her knowledge of futurity. The
ruins of the abbey, which stand near Ballycastle,
and which doubtless will continue to do so till the
fulfilment of the prophecy, are of considerable

90

IRELAND.

extent. It was among the latest buildings of the
kind erected in Ireland; and the remains of its
sculpture exhibit some considerable knowledge of
the art.
The small fragment of Duninny Castle will also
attract the traveller's attention, but only on account
of its site, the brink of a precipice, several hundred
feet high ; as will also, for a similar reason, the
single tower which remains of Kenbane Castle, the
strong hold of a M'Allister, Another ruin, in the
neighbourhood, bearing the odd name of Gobbin's
Heir, judging by the stern rudeness of its style, is
probably more ancient than either.

CHAPTER VII.
Bay of Ballycastle — First View of Fairhead — Question of Sublimity —
Erroneousness of preconceived notions — Coaleries — Singular Dis
covery — Perilous position of the Explorers — Summit of the Promon
tory — Sensations on looking down the Precipice — Remarkable
Anecdote — The Grey Man's Path — Secrets of the Mountain —
Descent by the Chasm — ^Natural Ruins at the bottom.
Travellers usually take a guide from Bally
castle to Fairhead ; but, when fully aware of what
is to be seen, I prefer exploring for myself. I ac
cordingly set out to walk to this celebrated promon
tory by the bay. The Bay of Ballycastle is small,
but it certainly is the most remarkable in character
I had yet seen in Ireland. At both points it
is bounded by a wall of perpendicular cliffs, and in
front lies the island of Rathlin, built, as one might
suppose, on a regular mass of white rocks.
Fairhead, however, a precipice about six hun
dred feet high, was the grand attraction ; and
thither I directed my steps. Mr. Inglis unwil
lingly admits, if he admits at all, the sublimity
of this object. He is not disposed to confess that

92 IRELAND.
any admixture of awe is produced by an elevation
of not more than six hundred feet. This is
a great mistake, and arises from a very prosaic
calculation, depending more upon the foot-rule than
upon the instinctive laws of taste and nature. It
must be in the experience of every observer, that
when an object reaches the altitude of a few hun
dred feet, its pretensions to the character of sublimity
depend entirely upon its form and aspect. If Fair-
head were in the shape of a rounded hill, it might be
beautiful but could be nothing more ; but as it is,
a naked precipice, rising from a chaos of shapeless
rocks, it is sublime. Why do we so often give the
name of mountains to elevations that scarcely de
serve that of hills ? We do so, unconsciously, from
the impressions produced by their form and aspect.
On the opposite page the reader will see the pro
montory of Fairhead as it exists in reality ; and,
if he will only rear it, in imagination, on the iron-
bound coast I am attempting to describe, surrounded
by the various adjuncts of mountains, wilds, and
tumbling waters, he will easily conceive that such
an object must partake largely of the sublime.
The traveller, however, expects to see in Fair-
head something more than the sublime. He ex
pects to see this colossal wall built in the form of a
regular colonnade, the pillars close even to touch
ing, and two hundred feet in length. This he will
not see. Let him examine the annexed view atten
tively, and disengage his mind from the impressions

e^5^^

. '^oi.t.nJ^j Antrjyrrh.

ANCIENT COAL PITS, 93
derived from guide-books, and the reports of travel
lers who make a point of seeing everything therein
set down, — and he will then be able to visit Fair-
head without risk of disappointment. The columns,
it is true, which are very irregular, and therefore
unsightly, polygons, may be detected on close ex
amination ; and a portion of the summit, bare of
turf, presents the appearance of a pavement formed
by the heads of the shafts ; but this is not ap
parent to the eye when the object is viewed as a
whole ; and it, of course, has nothing to do with the
effect produced.
While progressing towards the promontory, my
attention was attracted by several small openings
in the hill, between which and the sea the road is
carried. These openings were close by the road,
and arched over with cut stone. Although I ex
pected, about this place, to fall upon the well-
known coal pits, I could not at first believe that
these were their mouths ; but such proved to be the
fact. One peculiarity attending these shafts is, that
instead of descending from the surface of the earth
into its bowels, they ascend into the hill from a very
trifling elevation above the sea.
The coal-pits are intermixed in a very curious
manner with the question relating to the early civili
zation of Ireland. It actually appears that they were
worked with iron tools, or at least tools fortified
with iron, at a period far more remote than that
which modern writers are willing to assign for the

94 IRELAND.
introduction of scientific knowledge into the island,
Mr, Hamilton, in his Letters on the Antrim Coast,
believes the period to have been more than a thou
sand years ago. The account he gives of the dis
covery of the ancient pits, was repeated to me, in
substance, by a man who formerly worked as a
collier on the spot, I retail it in the words of Mr.
Hamilton. " About the year 1770, the miners, in pushing
forward an adit toward the bed of coal, at an unex
plored part of the Ballycastle cliff, unexpectedly
broke through the rock into a narrow passage, so
much contracted, and choked up with various drip
pings and deposits on its sides and bottoms, as
rendered it impossible for any of the workmen to
force through, that they might examine it farther.
Two lads were, therefore, made to creep in with
candles, for the purpose of exploring this subter
ranean avenue. They accordingly pressed forward
for a considerable time, with much labour and dif
ficulty, and at length entered into an extensive
labyrinth branching off into numerous apartments,
in the mazes and windings of which they were com
pletely bewildered and lost.
" After various vain attempts to return, their
lights were extinguished, their voices became hoarse
and exhausted with frequent shouting, and at
length, wearied and spiritless, they sat down
together in utter despair of an escape from this
miserable dungeon. In the mean time the work-

DANGEROUS ADVENTURE. 95
men in the adit became alarmed for their safety ;
fresh hands were incessantly employed, and in the
course of twenty-four hours the passage was so
opened as to admit some of the most active among
the miners. But the situation of the two unhappy
prisoners, who had sat down together in a very dis
tant chamber of the cavern, prevented them alto
gether from hearing the noise and shouts of their
friends, who thus laboured to assist them. Fortu
nately it occurred to one of the lads (after his voice
had become hoarse with shouting) that the noise of
miner's hammers was often heard at considerable
distances through the coal works, and in consequence
of this reflection he took up a stone which he fre
quently struck against the sides of the cavern ; the
noise of this was at length heard by the workmen,
who in their turn adopted a similar artifice ; by
this means each party was conducted towards the
other, and the unfortunate adventurers extricated
time enough to behold the sun risen in full splen
dour which they had left the morning before just
beginning to tinge the eastern horizon.
" On examining this subterranean wonder, it was
found to be a complete gallery, which had been
driven forward many hundred yards in the bed of
coal ; that it branched off into numerous chambers,
where miners had carried on their different works;*
* There were thirty-six of these chambers which were esteemed so
valuable as again to be occupied by the workmen who discovered
them.

96

IRELAND.

that these chambers were dressed in a workmanlike
manner ; that pillars were left at proper intervals to
support the roof,
" In short, it was found to be an extensive mine,
wrought by a set of people at least as expert in the
business as the present generation. Some remains
of the tools, and even of the baskets used in the
works, were discovered, but in such a decayed state
that on being touched they immediately crumbled
to pieces. From the remains which were found,
there is reason to believe that the people who
wrought these colleries anciently, were acquainted
with the use of iron, some small pieces of which
were found ; it appears as if some of their instru
ments had been thinly shod with that metal,"
These coal-pits were worked to advantage by Mr.
Boyd, of Ballycastle ; but the estate is now in chan
cery, and a lease cannot be obtained long enough
to tempt speculators. One fertile source of employ
ment is thus cut off from the district.
I wandered on ; and, turning up the hill, by the
side of a picturesque cascade, at length crossed the
stream, and directed my steps towards the summit
of Fairhead. Here, of course, the view is the grand
attraction. The Scottish coast, hidden when I was
below by the island of Rathlin, lay before me to the
east ; and to the west extended the whole basaltic
range, with its islands and promontories. Rathlin,
with its snowy cliffs, in the offing, was peculiarly
fine ; and, even from this height, its singular head-

BRINK OF THE PRECIPICE. 97
land looked like a separate island. The farther point
of the bay, hitherto marked by a perpendicular wall
of cliff, now sloped down in a mass of rugged pre
cipices, terminating in a large, shapeless rock in
the sea, surrounded by breakers.
It is not difficult, in some places, to approach the
brink of the precipice, for the purpose of looking
down, as a hold may be taken of the inequalities of
the summit ; but a nervous man would do well to
repress his curiosity. In Switzerland, I have looked
down into more than one gulf several times this
depth, but I never before felt so distinctly the ap
proach of that feeling of mingled awe, fear, exulta
tion, and wild daring, which resembles, if it not
actually is — insanity. One cause of this may be
the form of the masses of rock below, many of
which point upwards, in the shape of towers, and
obelisks, and pinnacles, and groups of collossal
pillars. The ceaseless tumbling of the sea may be
another source of this confusion of mind, and the
hollow roar with which it breaks into clouds of
white spray among the natural ruins.
Some suppose that the extraordinary mass of ruins
below, are portions of the steep which have fallen
down in the course of ages ; and they affirm that,
even within the memory of persons now living, an
acre of surface has in this manner been lost to the
promontory. Others are of .opinion that the sup
posed debris occupy their original position, but
have been isolated from the promontory, and from
H

98 IRELAND.
each other, by some unknown agent acting verti
cally."* I am inclined myself to suppose them to
be fallen ruins ; and for this reason, that the sharp
angles of the polygons are as nicely fitted to each
other as the parts of a tesselated pavement, and that
therefore it would not be in the power even of
nature herself to separate the columnar masses,
without overturning or breaking them to pieces.
The fact of a portion of the precipice which girds
this wild shore having given way in our own time,
is not disputed ; and at Portmoor an occurrence
of this kind was signalized by an extraordinary
incident. A man, it appears, was in the habit of
seating himself on the extreme edge of the preci
pice, for the purpose of viewing at his leisure the
very remarkable scene ; and one summer morning
he was in the midst of a reverie, in this perilous
situation — when the cliff gave way. The detached
portion glided, rather than fell, to the bottom of the
steep, where it sunk several feet into the earth, and
the involuntary traveller was deposited alive, and
even unhurt, upon the shore !
There are two small lakes on the summit of
Fairhead — and in fact I hardly know the mountain
in Ireland which is destitute of this feature. They
have the same lonely and desolate appearance I
have noticed elsewhere in such situations. But the
most interesting portion of the promontory is the
Grey Man's Path ; and it is also the most important,
* Richardson on the Causewaj' Coast.

GREY man's PATH. 99
inasmuch as it affords a means of access to the
world of ruins below.
The Grey Man's Path is a chasm which cuts the
headland into two parts ; and if the traveller will
only venture into a sort of natural door- way, formed
of rocks and pillars, and leading, as it might ap
pear, into the subterranean depths of the mountain,
he will speedily find the path widen, and be able to
descend with little difficulty to the edge of the sea.
This course is indispensable to one who would view
the secrets of nature, and examine with his own
eyes the materials and formation of the mountain.
Here he will see, probably for the first time, the
basaltic pillars of which he has heard so much: he
will observe them disposed in perpendicular groups
of various lengths, till by and by they form the entire
walls of the abyss, and at the bottom reach an alti
tude of upwards of two hundred feet.
The basalt of this coast is a ponderous, grey
stone, exceedingly close in the grain. Where it is
washed by the sea the colour is almost black ; but
if exposed to the air, as in precipices, brown. Some
writers attribute the formation of the substance to
water, some to volcanic fire, and some to a conjunc
tion of both ; and each of these gentlemen is as
well informed on the subject as the others. The
pillars at Fairhead are on a much more gigantic
scale than elsewhere ; one of these forming, it is
said, a quadrangular prism, thirty-three feet by
thirty-six on the sides, and two hundredfeetinlength.
h2

100 IRELAND.
On reaching the bottom of the promontory, by
the Grey Man's Path, a very singular effect is pro
duced by the waste of ruins in the midst of which
the traveller finds himself. The regularity of
arrangement observable in the chasm is now no
more ; but, instead, a chaos appears, of regular
forms grouped in the wildest confusion. Seated,
with half- shut eyes, on one of these mysterious
rocks, I resigned myself for some time to the guid
ance of imagination ; and many a temple, many a
dome, many a tower, many a pyramid, many an
obelisk, arose before my vision. Awaking, at
length, with a start, the picture dissolved into its
elements : groups of broken polygons, and shape
less cliffs, piled high over each other, and descend
ing gradually into the sea. The waters, in the
meanwhile, rising ever and anon, with a sullen swell
in the midst, broke into foam, with a roar which
re-echoed wildly up the abyss by which I had de
scended.

CHAPTER VIII.

Conversation with a small Farmer — Condition of the people — Land
lords — Priests and Parsons — Tithes — True nature of the tax — History
of ecclesiastical imposts — Effects of the Reformation — Anglican
Church — Dissenters — Catholics — Anglican Church in Ireland — Pro
posal — Appropriation of tithes to the purpose of education.

While returning along the shore from Fairhead,
I observed a man, of more respectable appearance
than we usually find in such employments in Ire
land, working at a quarry by the road side. I
entered into conversation as usual ; which I pro
longed to a more than usual extent, on finding my
companion to be not only intelligent, but trust
worthy. A traveller in this country, in fact, must
be always on his guard ; for even the most stupid
of the peasantry are ingenious enough to deceive,
when they come in contact with the ignorant or
unwary. If the inquirer have not some previous

102 IRELAND.
knowledge of the subject, some established data to
go upon, his questions will, in nine cases out of ten,
be worse than useless. But if a man will only leave
his prejudices behind, as unfit for a traveller's
stores, he will find these data by no means of diffi
cult attainment. It is unlikely that every one he
meets will be in the same story, and he will soon
learn to sift the truth from the falsehood. The
tendency, however, to represent matters as still
worse than they are, may be said to be universal ;
although, on the other hand, this tendency is too
often neutralized by the fact that matters are as
bad as it is possible to represent them. There are
few places in the north where the traveller will not
hear as dismal accounts as in the worst districts of
the south ; it is necessary, -therefore, that he should
not only hear with his own ears, but see with his
own eyes.
The man, however, whom I now fell in with
belonged to the very small class of those whose
communications proceed from an overflowing of the
heart. There was nothing uncommon in the in
formation I received from him — nothing with which
I was not previously acquainted ; but our conversa
tion lasted so long, and turned upon so many points,
that I am led insensibly to refer to it as to an ex
pression of the average opinions of the people of
Ireland, The man was a small farmer, of the
poorer class, which is to say, he was not nearly upon
a par with an English day labourer : let those who

THE SMALL FARMER. 103
sneer at my sources of information address them
selves to the gentry — and much good may it do
them. In the course of the volume I shall no doubt have
frequent occasion to refer mentally, if not otherwise,
to my interview with this small farmer on the Fair-
head beach ; but in the following notes I shall
confine myself to one or two topics of our dis
course, " How are you off for subsistence in this part of
the country?"
" Badly enough, indeed. Potatoes and milk, a
little meal, rarely a bit of meat— such is the lot of
the most of us,"
" Do you know that your countrymen in the
south are still worse off ? "
" I do not know any thing about the south. All
I know is, that things appear to me to be as bad
here as they can be ; and I think, therefore, that
they cannot be worse anywhere else."
" To what do you attribute the misery you com
plain of?"
" To the impossibiUty we find of paying our rent,
and getting a decent living out of the land,"
" Do you complain of bad landlords ? "
" I do not know : they cannot all be bad ; and
yet they seem to be pretty nearly all alike. There
are men of four thousand a year in this part of the
country whose tenants are the next thing to beggars.
Surely this is not right. Four pounds over and

104 IRELAND.
above a decent living would be a great thing to us —
fourteen pounds would be a kind of fortune. If we
were able to make this, we would not envy our
landlords their four thousand a year."
" What is the character of your priests ? "
" To speak of the priests in general, I would say
that they are ,a griping, close-fisted set. They no
doubt discharge their sacred functions as they ought
to do, but they are satisfied with that. We call them
' Father,' but I could wish -that they treated us more
like sons."
" What is the character of the Protestant
clergy ? "
" I do not know ; they are not remarkable in one
way or other ; they are just like other gentlemen.
They have plenty of time, however ; their estates
are small ; and, being worldly-minded men, they
make the most of them. They are, in short, good
and careful farmers, and I think therefore they do
some service by residing in the country. There is
one however — Mr. Stewart, of Ballycastle, who is
more than a farmer or a gentleman. I have not
had any thing to do with him myself ; but it is re
ported among us that he is one of the very best
men in all Ireland."
" Do you complain much of tithes in this
quarter ? "
" We of course think it an intolerable hardship
to pay for the support of a religion which we are
taught from the cradle to believe is a heresy. Be-

DUES OF THE PRIEST. 105
sides, we cannot afford it. I myself pay four shil
lings to the priest; and, considering my circum
stances, both he and I think it is enough. Yet over
and above this, I am compelled to pay eighteen
shillings and fourpence to the clergyman.''
" The dues of the priest not being recoverable at
law, you of course pay them willingly, however
unamiable be the character of the individual? "
" What can we do? If we are slow in coming
forward, he calls out our names from the altar, and
tells us that the labourer being worthy of his hire,
if we do not pay he will not work."
" I have heard that in case of obstinacy, or in
ability, he ultimately excommunicates you."
" That is untrue ; and indeed there would be no
use for any form of the kind, a denial of his spiritual
functions being as bad as any thing that could be
fall us. There never can be inability in the case ;
for, however avaricious the priest may be, he has
not the gross folly of the landlord, to exact more
than he knows it to be possible to pay, and he is
as well acquainted with our resources as we are
ourselves." " Do you suppose that the remission of this tax
of eighteen shillings and fourpence would make a
great difference to your family ? Imagine the sum
to be spent in provisions in the course of the year,
and consider what improvement would take place in
consequence in your comforts."

106

IRELAND,

" Why, I cannot say that there would be much
perceptible difference. Indeed I must confess that,
even if relieved from tithes, we should be in pretty
nearly the same situation as before. But that is not
the question. Though miserably poor, we are not
destitute of the ordinary feeling of human beings ;
and we do not like to be compelled to support a
church which we hate as erroneous, and despise as
apostate — more especially when that is the church
of only a paltry handful of the population of our
country, A man may submit to be starved ; but can
you wonder that he should feel chafed, if you insult
him into the bargain ? With regard to myself, I
am barely able to keep my family in common
decency, but yet I voluntarily cheat our necessities
out of four shillings to uphold that form of faith in
which I was born and brought up. This, however,
is not enough. The clergyman comes in after all,
armed with the terrors of the law, to demand four
or five times the sum to uphold what we are taught
from the cradle to call a heresy ! "
" Have you ever been better off than you are
now ? "
" Never. But there are always some gentlemen
trying to do us good, and that keeps up our hearts
from year to year. O'Connell is now at the head
of them,"
" Have you heard what O'Connell is trying to do
for you ? "

HOPE. 107
" He is trying to relieve us from tithes, and that
will be a great thing ; but we want besides sufficient
food, decent clothing, and warm lodging."
" Are you not surprised that, notwithstanding
the great changes for the better which of late
years have taken place in the political condition of
Ireland, the Irish people should have been left in
precisely the same deplorable state as before ? "
" I am, when I reflect upon it. Still, however,
we think that something will at last be done for
us — something, we know not what. It is this that
keeps us quiet, — and woe to that man who shall
destroy the hope, illusive though it be ! On the
day this takes place, let but a leader present him
self, and all Ireland will rise like one man."
This is the sum of what the man said to me on
the subject, although I do not affect to remember
his particular expressions ; and it wiU not be thought
surprising if, in my walk along the bay, the beau
tiful scenery by which I was surrounded should
have fled from my eyes, and if grave and painful
reflection should have obliterated, for the time, the
impression made by Fairhead, and the Grey Man's
Path, The popular excitement on the subject of tithes
is very easily comprehended : the only wonder is,
that the question should have remained unsettled
even to our day. The Jews were in all probability
taught the practice of consecrating tithes to the
service of the church by older nations ; for we find

108

IRELAND.

Abraham giving a tenth part of the spoils of battle
to a certain Melchisedek, king of Salem, who was
" the priest of the most high God." Jacob, in like
manner, recognized the principle, by making a
solemn covenant with God at Bethel, by which he
engaged to devote to him a tenth part of every
thing he received ; and, in the wilderness of Sinai,
the tithe was definitively settled by Moses upon the
tribe of Levi, the servants of the tabernacle, in
lieu of a share in the inheritance of the tribes of
Israel. At this period, God was the visible head of his
own church. All other forms of religion were
idolatrous ; and the Chosen People were kept within
the true fold by means of the most fearful miracles
and judgments. There was no room for mistake —
no license for wandering. Orthodoxy was under
stood by all who had ears to hear, and the slightest
deviation was punished by whole holocausts of
victims. Then came Christianity, presided over, in
like manner, by the visible head of the church, by
the Almighty himself in human form. Christ was
not come to destroy, but to fulfil the law ; and, in
reproving the Pharisees for tithing all manner of
herbs, even mint and rue, and yet passing over the
weightier matters of the law, namely, judgment,
mercy, and faith, he added, " These ought ye to
have done, and yet not leave the other undone."
In process of time Christianity was perverted, by
the pride of men, into a vast, complicated, and

THE REFORMATION. 109
most magnificent superstition. The Deity was no
longer the visible head of the church. The law was
no longer given forth, in the midst of fire, and
smoke, and thunderings, and lightnings from
Mount Sinai, nor preached in the fields, and by the
way side, by the meek and holy Jesus, The repre
sentative of God on earth was a priest, elected by
political cabal, whose raiment was of cloth of gold,
and whose symbolical crook was weightier than all
the sceptres in Europe, The new religion was ad
dressed to the soul through the senses; and the
great majority of mankind being at that time
plunged in the darkest ignorance, it was speedily
forgotten that there was an esoteric meaning at all.
The Levites of the tabernacle themselves were in
fected with the sensualities of the epoch ; and, de
serting their sacred charge, bowed down their hearts
before the idols of the world.
When European civilization had reached a cer
tain point, a change took place, of nature and ne
cessity, which some called a reformation. The
question then became. What is the true Christianity?
What is the religion which God himself taught the
unstable Israelites, from generation to generation,
- and at length came down from heaven to perfect
and establish in Christ Jesus ? Some ' answered
indignantly. It is the religion you see; it is the
religion of the supremacy, temporal and spiritual,
of the pope, and the papal priests ! Others clung
by the same faith, only endeavouring to remove the

1 10 IRELAND.
grosser abuses, and thus render more apparent the
esoteric meaning of the doctrine. Luther defaced
the idolatrous image of popery with blows which
resounded throughout the world, and Calvin fol
lowing, attempted to throw it down from its high
place into the ditch. All Europe rose in arms to
decide with the sword which was the true way to
heaven ; the rival devotees cut each other's throats
with emulative zeal ; and envy, hatred, malice, and
all uncharitableness became the attributes of the
followers of Him whose advent was announced, on
the midnight hills of Judea, by the angels of
heaven proclaiming — Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace, and good will toward men !
When at length the sounds of strife had ceased,
a mighty change was found to have taken place.
Catholicism, wherever it still existed, had retained
its pomp, but lost its power ; and therefore it is that
its adherents, in our day, belong chiefly to the
ignorant classes, who are fond of empty show, and
to that sex whose imagination is supposed to be
more easily impressible than that of the other by
external forms — by sounding brass, and tinkling
cymbals. In Ireland this was the case as elsewhere;
but another concurring cause retained in the ori
ginal fold even the better informed, and more am
bitious portions of the community, and thus ren
dered her what she is now, the most Catholic
country in Europe. This cause may be briefly
stated to be the fact, that although forming the

ANGLICAN CHURCH, 111
great mass of the nation, the Catholics of Ireland,
owing to their political position, were the perse
cuted, and not the persecutors, A man may be
reasoned out of an old taste or habit, or, if let alone,
as he advances in knowledge or experience, he may
leave it behind ; but no one can conceive that a
thing which is worth persecution can be a mere
idea,- or a mere bauble, and thus the more he suffers
the more it rises in his estimation, and the closer he
clings to it.
In England what is called the Anglican church
was established, of which the temporal head was
the king for the time being, no matter of what
family or dynasty, or of what moral and religious
character. The hierarchy was not shorn of a single
beam. The doctrine, it is true, was Calvinistic in
its foundation ; but almost all the external grandeur
of popery was retained, and as many of its forms
as were not worse than empty or useless. Among
these, for instance, may be mentioned the ceremony
of the wedding-ring — the sign of the cross at bap
tism — bowing at the name of Jesus — changing the
robes of the priest — kneeling at the commemorative
feast of the sacrament. This in short was the re
formation of the sovereign. In those countries, on
the other hand, where the people took the lead, the
church became either entirely republican, or adopted
that middle form of government known by the
name of Presbyterianism, But nowhere was there
stability. Sect after sect arose with incredible celerity.

112 IRELAND.
The followers of the double apostate Brown fled
from episcopal persecution into Holland, and after
wards emigrated to America, to found there an
empire destined to overshadow the old kingdoms of
Europe from the other side of the Atlantic, At
the present moment the dissenters in England are
as numerous as the adherents of the established re
ligion. Why then does the Anglican church still
proudly ride out the storm ? Because her ark is
moored in the vitals of the state. Destroy this
bond of connexion, and the mighty fabric will
crumble in pieces before your eyes. Destroy this
bond of connexion, and, instead of seeing the
descendants of the baron-bishops of the iron age
riding to the House of Lords in a carriage, you will
witness the heart-rending spectacle of these holy
men walking to the house of the Lord on their own
feet. It would be absurd to waste time in arguing
this point. The Church of England has always
been, and is now, part and parcel of the state, and,
if you sever the connexion, it must cease to exist as
the national church.
The diversity of opinions, however, in the Chris
tian world relates almost exclusively to outward
forms and to church government. Some will have
an arch-priest to look to who can determine all
points of controversy by his own fiat, and permit
the faithful to eat eggs and butter during Lent.
Others desire that the kingdom of God should be
governed by a temporal prince, and that its

FASHIONS IN HEAVEN. 1]3
apostolical chiefs and rulers should be placed on a
footing of grandeur corresponding with that of the
high officers of the state. Many crucify their
countenances with straight lank hair smoothed over
their brow, and Geneva bands under their chin ;
and not a few conceive that brown, and its various
shades are the fashionable wear in heaven, and that
the distinguishing marks of the elect are to be
found in the brim of the hat and the collar of the
coat. And what of all this ? Are we the less Christians
for indulging our several fancies in matters that
have no more to do with Christianity than the
colour of an object has to do with its substance ?
These are fit themes for argument among men ; but
to suppose that God makes any distinction between
a mitre and a broad-brimmed hat, is to suppose
that he pays more regard to a white than to a black
skin, or any other monstrous absurdity, opposed to
the reason, yet reconcileable by the passions and
prejudices of men.
There is nothing irreligious in the Anglican
church : and, if it be the opinion of the majority
of the nation, or of that which passes for such, that
its existence, in its present form, is conducive to
good order, and to the formation of moral habits,
it undoubtedly ought to be supported. For my
part, as an individual, I think that the smaller a
society of Christians is, the better. In small so
cieties men act as checks upon each other ; and vice
I

114 IRELAND.
is under such continual surveillance that it is either
rendered innocuous, or at length ceases to exist.
The charge of hypocrisy, unless it be in the case of
worldly men joining such societies from worldly
motives, is, generally speaking, unfounded. To
say that a man affects not to get drunk, for instance,
is nonsense. But, at the same time, it cannot be
denied that the ^ins of self-seeking, and spiritual
pride are much more likely to beset dissenting con
gregations than that of the great body of the church.
Simplicity of apparel, when that is carried to ex
cess, indicates anything rather than simplicity of
heart, 3 The Quakers, to take an extreme case, al
though in other respects of great respectability of
character, are, in my opinion, by far the most vain
and ostentatious of all the sects of professing Chris
tians, In the other sects the favourite ministers are,
with or without their own will, placed in the situa
tion of fashionable actors ; and their natural hu
mility, if they have any, is destroyed by the homage
of their flocks, A dissenting minister must be
of small notoriety indeed whose portrait is not
stuck up in the shop windows, or in religious ma
gazines, for the edification of Christians, What a
menagerie might be collected from these speci
mens ! But what is the use of such exhibitions ?
Do they answer any other purpose than to prove
that the godly have the ugliest faces in the known
world ?
Till the separation between church and state be

DEFENCE OF THE CHURCH. 115
formally determined on, the church must continue
to draw its revenues (if it can) as heretofore ; and
the dissenters must continue to give unto Csesar (if,
they choose) the things which are his, so long as
Caesar continues to reign. This state of things will
last till the dissenters become — if they ever shall
become — the great preponderating bulk of the na
tion. It is hard, no doubt, that in the meantime a
man should be compelled to support two establish
ments ; but the nature of the hardship is not well
understood. He is not compelled to go to two
churches — to subscribe to two doctrines. There is
no spiritual tyranny in the case, and no malevolent
feeling should be generated towards the church of
England. The thing is entirely an affair of state
policy, with which Christianity, properly speaking,
has nothing to do. The dissenter is in no worse
situation than the man who voluntarily relieves the
poor of his own village, and yet is compelled at the
same time to contribute his quota to the poor's rates
of the district. At the same time the fact is so ob
vious as to suggest itself at once even to the most
childish capacity, that if the landed revenues of the
church can be made productive enough to satisfy
her wants, it would betray the most lamentable im
becility to excite the hostile feelings of one half of
the nation by demanding church rates of the dis
senters. As for the state question, the policy of doing
away with a national church altogether, that is too
I 2

116 IRELAND.
weighty a subject to be entered upon here. All I
contend for is, that angry feelings have been excited
without cause ; that the hundred different churches
in this country are all churches of Christ; that
their congregations are brethren ; that the forms
characteristic of each society have nothing to do
with the doctrine, which is universal ; and that all
denominations of Christians form a single, rich, and
many-coloured carpet, spread beneath the footstool
of the Almighty.
But, as regards the Catholics of Ireland, the case
is different. In the first place, the church of
England has dissented from them, not they from
the church of England ; and, in the second place,
which is of more importance, they form the great
preponderating bulk of the people of Ireland.
When these " aliens in religion" were in the cha
racter of a conquered nation, it was perfectly right
that they should have been made to support the
state religion of the conqueror ; but now, when they
are aliens in nothing, save, alas ! the articles of
board and lodging, it is surely time that this should
have an end.
But, say the collectors of Irish tithes, if all the
Catholics were in one part of the island, and all
the Protestants in the other, a financial separation
might take place ; but if in a Catholic village we
find a dozen Protestants, is not salvation as im
portant to these twelve men as if they were twelve
thousand ? Must we not have a church in that

THE WEDDING GUESTS. 117
village ? and how is such an establishment to be
supported ? The argument is so far good ; but its
importance is exaggerated. I should like to take
these tithe-collectors on a little tour in such parts of
Scotland as most nearly resemble the parts of Ire
land they allude to in poverty and ignorance.
They would hardly believe that with such means
and appliances my countrymen are the most re
ligious people in Europe. They would measure
with astonishment the rugged hills, and desert
heaths, which the peasant traverses, with grave
pace and Sabbath countenance before he can reach
his cottage-temple. They would watch the steps
of the wedding-guests, bidden by the Lord of the
feast from far and near : — the sedate farmer, with
nicely-brushed coat, and hair as smooth as silk, a
staff in one hand and his bible in the other — the
demure maiden, with kilted petticoats, bearing her
shoes and stockings, made up in a bundle with her
psalm-book, and nicely folded pocket handkerchief
as white as snow — the serious matron enveloped
in a red cloak — the stalwart youth, " our nation's
hope and pride," striding along with the step of
Hercules, and the gravity of a patriarch — the little
children, conscious of Sunday, and feeling, even
from the pains which had been taken with their
dress, that they, too, were personages of the pro
cession, and individuals of the bidden company.
From all points of the compass come such groups
as these, verging towards a central point, and

118 IRELAND.
vanishing as they approach it. They have entered
the church — not the mere steeple-house of their
village, but the Bethel of their faith ; and does not
the companion of our journey pause, tearful and
heart-stricken, as their voices rise suddenly from
that lonely place in a wild and solemn swell upon
the breeze?
I am not such an enthusiast as to find fault either
with the magnificence, or the physical comforts,
with which the English delight to surround their
form of religion ; but, at the same time, I think
there are cases, in which these may, with great
propriety, be dispensed with. The church esta
blishment throughout a great part of Ireland should
be cut down to a level with the very worst districts
of Scotland, This would go some length in facili
tating the entire abolition of tithes, which ought to
come, which must come, and which will come, with
very little further delay.
If tithes are proper, it is robbery to appropriate
them to any thing else than the support of what is
considered the true church ; if improper, it is folly
to argue about their appropriation at all. I should
think, however, that there can be no serious ques
tion among sensible men as to the party on whom
the payment of tithes, proper or improper, should
fall. That party must undoubtedly be the one
deriving benefit from the produce of the soil, or,
in other words, enjoying a residue after the ne
cessities of animal life have been satisfied. That

HALF-CROWN OFFER. 119
this is not the peasant the reader is aware ; and, if
he supposes that it is in the power of the landlord
to reshift the burthen from his own shoulders, in
the shape of rent, he is incorrectly informed with
regard to the condition of Ireland. If a man
enjoy a residue, however small, he may be deprived
of that residue ; but, even after the deduction of
tithes from his burthens, the peasant will have no
residue. The emancipation from tithes will be little
more than a nominal relief: it will enable him, not
to satisfy his hunger at each meal, but to progress
in some degree towards doing so. It will not
enable him to pay one farthing more rent for his
land. There are few proprietors in Ireland to
whom I would not undertake to pay half a crown
for every shilling of rent they can obtain more
than they do now, till the people are fairly in a
condition to satisfy the demands of nature,
I say it is robbery to appropriate tithes to any
thing else than the support of the church ; and the
question then is, in what way can the church be
most efficiently supported ?
What is her present condition ? What benefit
has she conferred upon Ireland ? What progress
has she made in conversion ? The answers to these
queries are obvious. She is still, after the lapse of
centuries, a colony in a foreign country, defended
by bayonets ; instead of conferring anything upon
Ireland, she has drawn from her blood, tears, and
money ; in conversion she is stationary, leaving

120 IRELAND.
almost the entire work to the presbyterians and
dissenters. Now, what is the explanation of this ?
Is it impossible for the Irish to become pro-
testants ? Are they catholic by nature ? or has the
Church of England adopted an improper method,
or neglected its duty altogether? In Scotland
Catholicism was persecuted still more bitterly than
in Ireland, but Scotland has become a protestant
country. The cause of this is obvious. The
Scottish reformers did not merely endeavour to
substitute one form of belief for another : they en
deavoured, by means of education, to render the
people themselves capable of judging between the
two ; and, having effected this, the Reformation was
accomplished. The eloquence, or reasoning, of the
preachers may have opened the ears of their audi
ence ; but it was the parochial schools which con
vinced their understanding; and, at the present, day,
the remnants of Catholicism in the country are in
exact proportion to the paucity of the means of edu
cation. The Anglican church was planted in Ireland on a
plan somewhat similar. The pastor was not only
to minister to his flock in religious services,
but to educate them. The pastor, however, con
tented himself with expounding the Word to those
who chose to listen ; he performed just one half of
his duty, pocketing the stipend for the whole ; and,
in consequence of this neglect, assisted by political
persecution, the Irish are Catholics to this day.

APPROPRIATION OF TITHES. 121
These are facts which may be deduced by the
meanest intellect from the common histories of the
time ; and I found upon them my opinion, that if
tithes are to continue, the appropriation of a portion
of them to the education of the people will be an
act of justice, not only to Ireland, but to the Church.

CHAPTER IX

Peculiarities of the Causeway Region — Carrick-a-rede and its Swing
ing Bridge — Charges of the Guides — Trait of Character — The Giant's
Causeway — Tradition of its Origin — Cave of Portcoon — Port-na-
Spania — Pleaskin — Bushmills — Harvest — The Irish of the Seven
teenth Centurj' — Of the Sixteenth — Of the Nineteenth — Unhappy
Analogy.

From Ballycastle to the Giant's Causeway the
scenery is of a very peculiar character ; and one is,
at first, at a loss to account for a kind of originality
it exhibits. We at length, however, perceive that
we are gradually advancing into a region where
the larger specimens of vegetation are unknown.
The trees shrink into shrubs ; the shrubs, as we
proceed, grow. downwards into bushes; and even
the bushes, at length, dwindle and then die.
There is but one exception admitted by this ge
neral law ; and the Irish thorn, though not patron
ized, is at least tolerated by the tyrannical spirit of
the clime. But the thorn feels that, like a slave,
it exists only by sufferance. Thin, grey, and
stunted, it crouches before the blast, turning its

SWINGING BRIDGE, 123
head away as if in awe, or humility- On the lee
ward side, some green leaves and buds remind
the traveller of the smiles of unconscious infancy :
but the branches next the sea, like older denizens
of the world, are brown, withered, and weather-
beaten. No striking inequaUties present them
selves in the soil. Before us there are but the plain,
the precipice, and the ocean. Over this dreary
domain the north wind is the sole ruler, control
ling, at its pleasure, the other agents of nature.
The edge of the causeway coast, indeed, is seen
at a distance ; but it presents nothing except
ing the line of land meeting the line of sea. It
would be impossible for the traveller to guess that
he was within so short a space of objects so
striking and so wonderful.
The line of coast is sufficiently remarkable to
induce the tourist to proceed by sea to Bengore ;
but the weather being unfavourable, I was obliged
to content myself with the land journey. The
promontory of Kenbane, however, composed of
snowy limestone, is said to be a fine object, when
viewed from the water, and a cave of basaltic
columns to be well worth a visit. The latter
object is in the vicinity of Carrick-a-rede, another
promontory which I saw sufficiently well to per
ceive that its famous swinging bridge was not
there. This headland is divided by a chasm, not
longitudinal, like the Grey Man's Path, but lateral,
over which a bridge of ropes is thrown during the

124 IRELAND,
fishing season. The rock is here only about eighty
feet above the water ; and the chasm not more
than sixty feet wide ; but nevertheless,] the swinging
bridge, consisting simply of a line of planks,
secured upon two cables, with a cord for the hand
may well appear terrific to the imagination. The
cliffs are wild and abrupt in the extreme, and the
sea rises around them with a ceaseless swell.
The insulated rock is used for the fisherman to
stand who watches, with a telescope, the shoal of
salmon in their periodical search for ihe mouth of
a river. The fish come round the coast close by
the rocks, and being interrupted by the island of
Carrick-a-rede, are easily taken, if their approach
is perceived, I spoke to a man who was in the
habit of crossing the swinging bridge, and he con
fessed that it was not without a beating heart, and
a blanching cheek, he had performed the feat for
the first time.
Long before reaching the Causeway, we were
met by one of the guides, who seemed to think
that this rencontre gave him a legal right to take
us under his charge. He kept up with the vehicle
by running ; and in the meanwhile, took care to
describe the country as we passed, in order to
show us that he had already entered upon his
office. The regular charge of the guides I understood
to be five shillings, and that of the boatmen, twelve
shillings and sixpence ; but besides these there are

TRAIT OF CHARACTER. 125
a variety of incidental items which render the Cause
way rather an expensive exhibition. One man fires
the pistol which produces the echo prescribed by
the books ; another professes to keep the path to
the cave clear for your honour's feet ; and a smoke-
dried carline gives you to drink of the Giant's Well,
a spring of pure water which oozes up between two
of the pillars, and which, on tasting, you find to
have been miraculously converted in transitu by
the old witch into whisky. Lastly, more than a
dozen men and boys follow you through the whole
adventure, in spite of your expostulations, to offer
boxes of mineralogical specimens.
It was impossible to refuse expending a trifle
among these last : but as the specimens were small
and worthless, I did not choose to be troubled with
them, and accordingly, after having paid the price,
desired that a single box should be made up from
the collections of the whole, and sent after me. I
did the poor fellows injustice, however, in supposing
that they would act like civilized men, and for
get the order ; for in a short time I received my
specimens, which were actually a selection of the
best pieces. After all, there are so many good
points in the character of this unhappy people, that
I am sometimes tempted to blame myself for speak
ing the truth about the bad ones.
Fairhead, the Grey Man's Path, and the natural
ruins at the bottom, are beyond comparison the
most remarkable objects in the Antrim Coast;

126 IRELAND.
but the Causeway affords more gratification to the
traveller who is fond of examining the curiosities
of nature. He descends from Fairhead, where he
has been overwhelmed by a thousand vague, but
grand impressions, to examine leisurely at the
Causeway the materials of the magnificent struc
tures which in this region front the sea. In the
Causeway itself, he finds the strange, the fantastic,
the extravagant, but not the majestic. There is no
elevation to produce the subhme : no formless and
unconscious idea of danger to create awe. His
curiosity, surprise — wonder, if you will, are ex
cited ; but he is able to hsten calmly to the guide,
count the sides of the polygons, and expatiate on
the possible, and impossible causes of basaltic form
ations. On the Causeway we see before our eyes, and
beneath our feet, the materials of which the neigh
bouring steeps are formed. We see a natural
pavement composed of polygons of a hard, smooth,
and ponderous stone, without a grain of earth, or
blade of vegetation, or room for either between : and
by the inequalities of the upper surface, we perceive
that each of these polygons, though so closely
fitted to its neighbour, is a separate and distinct
pillar. More wonderful still, the pillars are not
composed of a single block, thrown up in an instan
taneous caprice of nature, but of several joints,
fitted to each other, the convex with the concave
ends, by the nicest possible articulations ; and.

giant's CAUSEWAY. 127
most wonderful of all, these mysterious columns
stand, in every case, almost as erect as if
their perpendicularity had been determined by the
plummet. This last peculiarity is the more surprising, as
there is every reason to conclude that their forma
tion was attended with extreme violence, I gather
this from the appearance of those formless masses
of basalt termed whindykes, which rise up here and
there upon the Causeway, and seem to have been
gushes of molten metal that burst suddenly forth
in the midst of the regularity of the work.
But let not the reader be deceived, as most
readers are, by the name of pillars, and suppose
that the Giant's Causeway is composed of such
regular columns as bear up the portico of a temple.
They are not " exquisitely shaped pillars," as some
books assure him, but irregular prisms, generally
of five sides, each side being different in dimensions
from the other. Neither is the Causeway itself a
regular mole, inclining from an altitude of two
hundred feet, till it is lost in the sea, but distinct
fields of pillars, separated unequally by whindykes,
with here and there considerable elevations. The
whole surface is about a hundred feet wide, and,
so far as it can be seen, six hundred feet in length.
What the depths may hide no one can tell ; but it
is not a very wild speculation to suppose that the
Causeway forms the pavement of the sea, and
might conduct a submarine traveller to the caves
of Staffa,

128 IRELAND.
The tradition among the peasantry is somewhat
different. According to this authority, the bridge
of communication was at one period actually com
pleted, and at the present day, we should find
nothing but its ruins at the bottom. The archi
tects were Fin Mac Cumhal, and his comrades,
the Scandinavian sons of Frost, who constructed
the work, in order to facilitate their operations in
a war which they waged against the opposite
country. The enemy were thunderstruck at the
sight of this gigantic bridge, presenting a highway
to their ocean-girded retreats. In this extremity
they had recourse to the Druids; who, jealous
themselves of the growing power of the giants,
wiUingly exerted all their supernatural skill. The
sacred fire blazed on every hill, and blood flowed
on every altar ; till at length a spell was wrought
mighty enough to shake the depths of the ocean.
The bridge was overthrown ; and, in order to sig
nalize their power and vengeance to the latest race
upon the earth, the Druids turned the giants into
stone : and these mouuments of priestly wrath are
in our day distinctly seen on various parts of the
coast. Let me remark that before reaching the Cause
way I entered one cave ; and that in consequence
of the dangerous swell of the sea, I did not enter
another, to which access can only be obtained by
water. The cave I saw, which is called Portcoon,
is certainly worth a visit to those who will take

CAVERN. 129
the trouble of retiring into its depths, and looking
back. It is entered dryshod, or nearly so, by a lateral
passage ; but the sea comes in by the front opening
in huge billows, and presents an appearance not
less grand that the stranger is seized, in spite of him
self, with the idea that the cavern will be filled to
the roof. The depth of the recess is not apparent
to the eye, being heaped with masses of white
foam as large as hogsheads, but only just heavier
than the atmosphere. The effect is supposed to
be increased by the report of a pistol which is
usually fired on the occasion ; but on a tempestu
ous day, like that of my visit, nothing can be finer
than the rush and roar of the sea exaggerated by
the thousand echoes of the cave.
Having satiated my curiosity with the wonders
of the Causeway, I climbed the steep behind, by
a narrow zigzag path ; a feat to which the guides,
and the books, affect to attach a high degree of
importance. The ascent would certainly not be
agreeable to an asthmatic subject, but the idea of
danger attending it to a man in good health is ridi
culous. Even women and children are frequently
seen toiling up the most precipitous of these paths
with loads of kelp on their backs.
The view from the summit is well worth the
trouble of the ascent, comprehending, as it does,
most of the promontories of the coast from Bengore
Head on one hand to Dunluce Castle on the other.
The visitor's route lies in the former direction;

130 IRELAND.
in which the principal objects are Port-na-Spania,
the promontory of Pleaskin, and Bengore Head.
Port-na-Spania is a bay, or inlet, exhibiting
several curious combinations of pillars, together
with those that are called the chimney-pots, —
several insulated columns, standing on a ridge,
where they are seen from the Causeway and
numerous other points of view. These natural
monuments, if you will believe the guides, were
fired at by some ships of the Spanish Armada,
the crew mistaking them for the chimney-pots of
a castle ! Bengore Head is only remarkable for
the view it affords ; but Pleaskin, owing to its
variety of colour, and the arrangement of its pil
lars, forms in itself one of the finest pictures
imaginable. With the following accurate descrip
tion of the promontory, given in one of Mr, Hamil
ton's Letters, I shall conclude this brief notice of
the Causeway coast.
" The summit of Pleaskin is covered with a thin
grassy sod, under which lies the natural basaltic
rock, having generally a hard surface, somewhat
cracked and shivered. At the depth of ten or
twelve feet from the summit, this rock begins to
assume a columnar tendency, and forms a range
of massy pillars of basaltes, which stand perpen
dicular to the horizon, presenting, in the sharp
face of the promontory, the appearance of a mag
nificent gallery, or colonnade, up'wards of sixty feet
in height. This colonnade is supported on a solid

PLEASKIN. 131
base of coarse, black, irregular rock, near sixty feet
thick, abounding with blebs and airholes — but
though comparatively irregular, it may be evi
dently observed to affect a particular figure, tend
ing, in many places, to run into regular forms,
resembling the shooting of salts, and many other
substances, during a hasty crystallization.
" Under this great bed of stone, stands a second
range of pillars, between forty and fifty feet in
height, less gross, and more sharply defined, than
those of the upper story, many of them, on a closer
view, emulating even the neatness of the columns
in the Giant's Causeway, This lower range is
borne on a layer of red ochre stone, which serves
as a rehef to show it to great advantage. These
two admirable natural galleries, together with the
interjacent mass of irregular rock, form a perpen
dicular height of one hundred and seventy feet ;
from the base of which the promontory, covered
over with rock and grass, slopes down to the sea
for the space of two hundred feet more : making in
all a mass of near four hundred feet in height,
which in beauty, and variety of its colouring, in
elegance and novelty of arrangement, and in the
extraordinary magnitude of its objects, cannot
readily be rivalled by anything of the kind at pre
sent known."
Leaving the Causeway I took up my abode for
the night at the village of Bushmills, In this little
place, the inhabitants are comparatively comfort-
K 2

132 IRELAND.
able, nearly a hundred of them receiving constant
employment from Sir Francis Mac Naghten. A
resident like this is an especial providence in such
a region, where crops are still more precarious than
elsewhere. In general the corn ripens early, owing
to the land being wholly destitute of shade ; but
when a late summer occurs, as was the case at
present, they do not ripen at all. Everywhere
during my journey I had seen green corn at the
end of the harvest time ; but there were still hopes
of the sun at length blazing forth, and remedying
the evil. In this extreme northern nook, how
ever, the chance was already past, for here a har
vest delayed is a harvest lost.
I mentioned in last year's volume the opinion,
founded on late discoveries, that owing to want of
capital, and bad husbandry, the soil of Ireland
produces not more than a third of what it ought
to do. It is odd that the very same remark should
have been made in the year 1610,
" I might affirm," says Barnabe Rich, " and
confidentlie conclude, that throughout the whole
realme of Ireland, there is not the third part of
that profit raised that Ireland would affoord," This,
however, he attributes not only to " ill husban-
drie," but to " so much of the country lying
waste for want of inhabitants." In our time there
is no want of inhabitants, and yet the country still
continues to lie waste.
" To speak of Ireland generally," he observesj

TO WE13P IRISH. 133
"it is replenished with rivers, with woods, with
bogs, and with as good lande for corne and pas
ture as any Europe affoords ; but not so well ma
nured, nor so well husbanded : for the farmers
of Ireland are far to seeke in many pointes of good
husbandry, and the women (for the most part)
have as httle skill of huswifry." One would
think that Barnaby had travelled in Ireland yester
day, instead of two hundred and twenty-seven
years ago ! Stanihurst, a contemporary of this
author, is much more favourable in his character
of the people : who, according to him, are religious,
frank, amorous, ireful, sufferable of infinite pains,
very glorious, many sorcerers, excellent horsemen,
delighted at wars, great almsgivers, passing in
hospitality, " They follow the dead corps to the grave,"
continues he, " with howling, and barbarous out
cries, pittiful in appearance, whereof grew (as I
suppose) the proverbe. To weep Irish." This
testimonial is pulled to pieces by the aforesaid Bar
naby with great heat.
" ' Sufferable of infinite pains !' " saith he, " but
yet at any hand they will not, or cannot indure to
labour, for there is not a greater plaguesore to
Ireland than the ydlenesse thereof. ' Very glo
rious !' — very true ; and they are no less proud,
for the meanest Shackerell, that hath scarce a
mantle to wrap himself in, hath as proud a mind as
O'Neal himself, when he sits upon a green bank

134 IRELAND,
under a bush in his greatest majesty, * Delighted
with wars !' — they are delighted with rebellion,
commotions, and insurrections: and lastly, Mr,
Stanihurst seemeth to find fault at the manner of
Irish burials, — I think it would be admired in any
part of Christendom, to see the manners of the
Irish, how they use to carry their dead to their
graves, in the remote partes of the country. A
stranger that had never seen the sight before, at
encounter, would believe that a company of hags
or hellish fiendes, were carrying a dead body to
some infernall mansion ; for what with the unseem-
linesse of their shewes, and the ill-faring noyse
they doe make, with their howling and crying, an
ignorant man would sooner believe they were
devils of hell than Christian people."
This however, is going out of fashion, and some
other points of manners mentioned by the same
author are already among the things that were.
He tells, for instance, that it was esteemed exceed
ingly unlucky to wash or cleanse milking vessels,
and that he himself saw the pails in common use
" furred half an inch thick with filthe." The cus
toms of agriculture, too, however much found
fault with, must certainly have received some im
provement, since in his time the horses, five
abreast, were yoked to the plough, neither with
cords, chains, nor lines, " but every horse by his
owne taile !"

IMAGE OF IRELAND. 135
Perjury was as universal a crime then as now ;
but a remark of this author, who had a forty years'
personal knowledge of Ireland, allows us to ac
count, in some measure, for their facility in swear
ing falsely upon the Bible. They did so in that
ignorant age because it was an English book;
and the practice may be supposed to be continued
now, rather as a transmitted custom than as a
wilful and intentional profanity.
It is painful, but curious, to observe the descent
of the Irish character through four centuries, modi
fied only by the modifications of the people's
wrongs. In the time of Elizabeth the same praises
of the country are contrasted with the same cen
sures of the inhabitants ; whose very boldness in
war is represented as something to be condemned
and detested. Some verses, (and those not the
best) of the following extract from " the Image of
Ireland," a poem written by John Derricke in the
year 1578, are given in the notes to Rokeby.

" Though that the royall soyle,
And fertill Irishe grounde.
With thousande sondrie pleasante thinges
Most nobly doe abounde.

Though that the yearth I saie
Be blist with heavenly thinges,
And though tis like the fragrant flower
In pleasant Male that springs.

136 IRELAND,
Yet when I did beholde
Those which possesse the same,
Their manners lothsome to be told
As irksome for to name,

I marvailde in my minde,
And therefore did muse
To see a bride of heavenlie hue
An ugly feere to chuse.

This bride it is the soyle.
The bridegroome is the karne,
With writhed glibbes like wicked sprits,
With visage rough and stearne ;

With seniles upon their poules.
Instead of civil lappes,
With speares in hand, and swordcs by sides
To beare of after clappes ;
With jackettes long and large
Whiche shroude simplicitie,
Though spitefuU dartes which they do beare
Importe iniquitie.

Their skirtes be verie strange,
Not reaohyng paste the thie,
With pleates on pleates that pleated are
As thick as pleates may lye ;

Whose sleeves hang trailing downe
Almost unto the shoe.
And with a mantle commonlie
The Irishe karne doe goe.''

IRISH KERNE. 137
The poet then goes on to describe the manners
of the kerne as being suitable to their garb.
After fighting comes feasting. An ox is slaugh
tered, and the entrails torn out, and thrown upon
the embers for their delectation. The priest is
placed at the head of the feast — for table there is
none — and next him the surgeon, and next the
chief, with his lady, whether wife or mistress. Half
sodden flesh is the staple of the banquet, for bread
is scarce; and the drink is water, milk, or broth.
As for wine or whisky, these come only on occa
sions of extraordinary good luck. After eating and
drinking, the bard pours forth his wild legends
exciting the hearers to emulate their fathers' fame ;
and the priest, calhng upon them in the name of
God to strike one more blow at the sacrilegious
enemy, the company rise up with renewed enthu
siasm, and rush towards the English pale.
This is the picture of a people insulted, out
raged, and hunted like beasts of prey, in their
own mountains ; making treaties vrithout faith,
because compelled by terror, and breaking faith
without dishonour because force invalidates the
compact; crouching one moment, like a beaten
hound before an enemy, to contend with whom
would be madness, and the next rising up against
their spoilers in that very madness, excited by the
artifices of worthless demagogues, and their own
despair. The Irish kerne of the sixteenth century are the

138 IRELAND.
small farmers and labourers of to-day — the great
majority, and yet the Paria caste of the nation-
They do not inquire into the causes of their situ
ation. They only know that they bear the bur
thens of their masters ; that they sow while another
reaps ; that they starve in the midst of plenty ;
that no one talks to them of hope save priests and
agitators. Do you blame these men if they are idle,
ignorant, superstitious, disaffected, and insincere ?

Coujit^ jiTitrim..

CHAPTER X.

Dunluce Castle — Anecdote of its Capture — Change of Scenery —
Coleraine — Salmon Fisheries — Condition of the Inhabitants — La
mentable Disunion — A Bagman's Notions of the Irish — Newtown-
limavady — O'Cahan's Castle — Anecdote — Dungiven and its Ruins —
Condition of the People — Elopements — Instance of Conjugal Infi
delity — Abuse of the Local Custom of eloping to be married — Ap
proach to Londonderry — The City.

From Bushmills to Coleraine I found little to
look at, except the ruins of Dunluce castle. An
excellent idea of this hoary pile is conveyed in the
accompanying engraving ; and I am not sure that
it will be much worth the traveller's while to
inquire into it more in detail. The effect of the
picture is seen as well from the road as anywhere
else, and its sole value consists in effect, A rock
in the sea divided by a deep, but narrow, chasm
from the land, crested with mouldering walls, black
and shattered, but still grim in their decay — such
is Dunluce castle. In the interior, a vaulted closet
is pointed out called the Banshee's Tower; and
the place is seen where, one stormy day, a portion

140 IRELAND.
of the building fell into the boiling deep below.
Nine persons lost their lives by this catastrophe.
The first possessor of the castle known in history
was an Irish chief called Mac Quillan ; from whom
it was wrested by the Scottish Mac Donnells, earls
of Antrim. Subsequently it was captured, and
recaptured, many times. In 1584 it was thought
necessary to bring six pieces of artillery against it ;
which were used as little as possible that the walls
might not be injured. In the following year, the
manner of its capture shows the jealous distinc
tions that were kept up between the Enghsh and
Irish, and the necessity which existed for them.
Sir John Perrot placed in the castle, as ward or
constable, a man on whom he could depend, being,
as he supposed, of the English Pale. The con
stable, however, although a man of honour, was a
Carew of the north ; and being naturally more
inclined to the society of his own countrymen and
kindred than to that of strangers, he gradually
changed the English into a native garrison. Two
of the new comers turned traitors. They hoisted
up, by means of ropes, one dark night, fifty of the
enemy's soldiers and surprised the castle. They
offered the constable his life, and a safe convoy
wherever he chose ; but bitterly cursing his own
folly and their ingratitude, the gallant Carew re
sisted to the last, and died sword in hand.
After Dunluce, I found the trees begin to shoot
up by degrees, and the whole landscape to lose

COLERAINE.

141

the pecuHarities of the Causeway coast. On enter
ing Coleraine, it seemed to me to have the aspect
of a very poor, but still a comfortable town. It
did not convey the slightest idea of a linen mart ;
and, as I had expected to find it a Belfast on a
small scale, I was for some time at a loss to account
for its humble appearance, and rural quiet. One
of my usual perambulations, however, explained
the mystery. There are here no great Hnen manu
factories, as in the northern capital ; the cloth
being wrought in the peasants' huts. The weavers,
therefore, of Coleraine, instead of being crowded
into a centre are the population of the neighbour
ing country. The women have little or no employ
ment, the yarn made by machinery being almost
universally adopted.
There are at Coleraine two extensive salmon
fisheries, one called the Cranagh, a mile below
the town, and the other a mile above, called
the Cutts. At the former, which I did not visit, the
fish are taken in nets extending across the river ;
at the latter, by a contrivance still more certain in
its operation. The spot is just above where the
Bann rushes over a ledge of rocks. The salmon,
obedient to their instinct, jump to the top of the
ledge, and then, continuing their journey, enter by
small holes into several stone enclosures. At the
further end they find their progress stopped by
palisades, which they attempt in vain to overleap ;
and the same instinct which teaches them to

142 IRELAND.
ascend the river forbidding them to turn back, they
remain there till they are taken. These fisheries
are not advancing. The Scottish improvement
in the construction of nets being now generally
adopted, more salmon are taken on the coasts
than formerly, and, in consequence, fewer in the
rivers. The peasants in the neighbourhood of Coleraine
appear to be tolerably well off, necessaries of all
kinds being cheap. They eat some bread, and some
butter, and have always buttermilk to their pota
toes. Land is let at reasonable prices, and in
small quantities, and, unlike the manufacturers of
Belfast, who must pay for everything in money,
they can raise a few ridges of potatoes for them
selves. In consequence of the general use of machinery,
yarn is so cheap that women cannot earn more
than twopence halfpenny by a hard day's work,
although even at that rate they continue to spin.
Formerly the farmers' daughters made up a little
fund by their own industry ; but now young wo
men of that class become servants in the town,
when they can obtain a place, at three pounds a
year. The town is torn to pieces by religio-poKtical
dissensions. A Protestant, for instance, will rarely
hire a Cathohc servant ; and at drinking parties,
the conclusion is sure to be a quarrel. The elec
tion of a neighbouring resident landlord, very well

bagman's NOTIONS, 143
liked in the town, would have been carried unani
mously, had he not refused to assist in the cere
mony of laying the first stone of a Catholic chapel.
He even refused to sell materials from his quarry
for the unholy purpose ; and the consequence was
that he was thrown out, though only by a small
majority — an event which was signalized by the
windows of every liberal's house being smashed
by the enraged bigots. In this state of things
education makes but little progress ; the free
schools, which are not on the national system,
being nearly useless.
I had here some conversation with a party of
commercial travellers, whom I met in the inn,
which might enable one to draw some curious con
clusions regarding the character of the Irish.
The lower classes are so bigoted to their cus
toms, that the goods requisite for one part of the
country are unsaleable in another. For instance,
there are no white handled knives to be seen south
of a line drawn from Belfast to Coleraine ; while
to the north of that line there are none with black
handles. Throughout the country, the knife which
shows the iron at the end of its handle is preferred,
the other not being considered sufficiently strong.
The real Irish knife, made on purpose for Ireland,
is that awkward-looking machine, with a blade at
either end. For other classes of society, the goods
must be showy and cheap. It matters not for the
quality; fqr whatever may be the difference in

144 IRELAND.
this respect between any two articles, a difference
of five per cent in the price will determine the
purchase. I saw an order to an immense amount,
for scissors, at the rate of sixpence halfpenny per
dozen ; the blades of which, in consequence of
their not being tempered alike, would be useless
in a week. Vast quantities of imitation silver, as
might be expected, are sold in Ireland ; and I
heard of a gentleman giving twelve pounds for an
article which in genuine silver would only have
cost twenty pounds. Here it would be difficult
to say whether poverty and vanity, or want of
forethought were the most in fault ; since the ma
terials of the one, after it had finished its service,
would have been worth in money the whole price
of the other when new.
Leaving Coleraine, I found the road for some
time extremely dreary and uninteresting ; our route
lying over a series of hills, which were in great
part bog land. At length, however, a fine valley
opened to our view, with the river Roe winding
through it, and the mountains of Donegal on the
right, NewtownUmavady is a very tolerable little
town ; but being anxious to see the ruins of O'Ca
han's castle, the principal seat of that once powerful
family, I sent on my baggage to Londonderry, and
set out to walk to Dungiven, along the banks of
the Roe, My expedition was vain with regard to
its object ; for I could neither see nor hear of any
thing which could possibly be the remains of a

o'cAHAn's WIFE. 145
castle, with the exception of a gateway, near a
bleachfield. But the Roe, at least in that portion,
is one of the most picturesque rivers in Ireland ;
and I spent some hours in wandering through the
mazes of its thickly wooded banks, hardly murmur
ing at the disappointment which was so well com
pensated. With regard to O'Cahan's castle, the
following anecdote given in the Statistical Survey,
is worth a long description.
" The duchess of Buckingham on her way by Lim-
avady, in the time of Charles I. was induced by
curiosity to visit the wife of O'Cahan, whose castle
was demolished, and himself banished. The situ
ation of this venerable matron was characteristic
of her fortunes : she was discovered amid the ruins
of her once splendid residence ; the broken case
ments stuffed with straw, and a miserable fire of a
few branches before her. Thus lodged the aged
wife of O'Cahan. She was found by her noble
visitant sitting on her bent hams in the smoke,
and wrapped in a blanket."
Rejoining the road, I continued my wanderings
through rather a picturesque country, till sud
denly a great valley appeared, surrounded by
lofty hills. Here was Dungiven, the neatest and
cleanest Httle town I have seen in Ireland — or per
haps anywhere else. It consists of a single long and
broad street, with two or three narrow avenues di
verging, all lined with thatched cottages, and small
but respectable looking houses intermingled. The

146 IRELAND.
whole has a look of country homeliness, which,
when conjoined with neatness and cleanliness, is
more attractive to the traveller whose mind is in
a healthy state than a city of palaces.
The ruins of the castle of Dungiven stand at
the top of the street, and are not very striking in
themselves, although, standing on a slope, they
command some fine views in the valley. This
place was built in the time of James I, with a
fosse and mounds in front, and flanked by two
round towers. The interior courts appear to
have been well fortified, but the work of ruin is so
complete as to leave little but guesses to the non-
antiquarian. At some distance beyond, lonely and sad-look
ing, are the ruins of the church, where the sept of
O'Cahan were buried, and where at this day their
descendants and conquerors mingle in the grave.
The building is distinguished by its sculpture, the
remains of which attest both wealth and cultivated
taste, on the part of its architects.
My assertion may be remembered that the native
Irish were driven by the settlers into the moun
tainous and less fertile parts of the country, where,
generally speaking, their descendants remain to the
present time — thus giving rise to the popular
error, that the Catholics are, because of their
religion, poorer and less civilized than the Pro
testants. The facts of the case are so clearly
shown in Dungiven and its neighbourhood, that

MERE IRISH. 147
it is worth while to pause here for a mo
ment. In a very intelligent Survey of the parish by
the Rev. Alexander Ross, he affirms that the inha
bitants are divided into two races of men as totally
distinct as if they belonged to different countries
and regions ; one exhibiting the poverty and bar
barism of the " mere Irish," and the other rejoic
ing in all the earnest industry and canny fore
thought of the Scots. The former race inhabits
the mountains, and the latter the plains ; and each
may be allotted to its peculiar nation even by the
patronimics of the people. Mr. Ross supposes the
difference to arise from the Irish clinging to
the barbarous tastes and habits of their ances
tors :— but does he suppose that this would
have been the case had their lot been the
fertile valley, had their religion been fostered
by the state, and had their social condition
been an object of solicitude to the nation? If
the two races had exchanged positions at the
time of the settlement, I am of opinion that a
similar change would have been found to have
taken place in their moral characteristics.
In this part of the country the introduction of
mill-yarn has completely done away \Vith spinning,
and the women, therefore, have no work fit for
the sex, I met a pretty, delicate-looking girl on
the road, who replied to my questions — " 'Deed,
Sir, it would be hard to say what women do here-
L 2

148 IRELAND,
abouts, and what they do not. For my part, I
put my hand, sometimes to one turn, and some
times to another ; and whiles they send me out to
work in the fields, hke a man, or a beast,"
The Scottish accent which is general here, is
more pleasing to the ear than in Scotland, because
it is less broad. The voices, also, are extremely
agreeable ; and the simplicity of expression and
manner is altogether unmingled with vulgarity.
In this neighbourhood, but more especially in
the neighbouring county of Tyrone, I heard of a
very singular custom, which has been little, if at
all, remarked. We hear every day of "forcible
abductions ;" and the frequency of the crime excites
at once our surprise and detestation : but we are
not aware that such brutalities have grown out of
an ancient peculiarity in the manners of the people.
It was — and, in some districts, it is now — the
custom for marriages to be brought about by a
voluntary elopement. When the lover's wooing
is successful, he does not go to negociate with the
parents, but carries off his bride to a neighbouring
village ,or to a friend's house, and there the treaty
is entered into by means of ambassadors.
When they reach their destination, they find a
crowd of the bridegroom's friends waiting to receive
them, provided, as well as their circumstances
allow, with whisky to enable them to pass the
time. Sometimes the host, before admitting them,
swears the youthful pair upon the Book that their

SINGULAR CUSTOM. 149
purpose is lawful and honest, and that the mar
riage is actually to go on ; the priest is then sent for,
and, being properly instructed by the lover, he
proceeds to the parents of the bride to demand
their approbation. In this mission he is generally
successfiil ; for it is only on rare occasions that the
maiden makes an imprudent choice.
Sometimes, however, — though rarely — irregula-
ties take place. Excited by the whisky, and the feli
citations of friends, the young girl forgets that an
important preliminary is still to be arranged. Then
comes the father's refusal of the tocher demanded,
— and as a matter of course under the circumstances
— the lover's infidelity to his vows. For this reason,
if for no other, the practice of elopements is greatly
condemned by the priests, who frequently admonish
the young women from the pulpit upon the sub
ject. They advise them, since they will not consult
their temporal, to consult their spiritual relations ;
promising that if no reasonable objection to the
match appear, they will marry them at once, in
spite of their father.
Although it may be collected from the above
that the girls of this district are not very tender
in the point of dehcacy, yet conjugal infidelity is
almost unknown. The last case I could hear of
occurred some years ago, when the wife left her
husband and children, and fled into England with a
lodger. The husband, after trying for a little while
the state of single blessedness, went to the bishop

150 IRELAND.
to declare that he could not, and would not, do
without a wife, and to insist upon being married
to somebody else. The indignant bishop threat
ened to horsewhip him. By the inferior clergy he
was only laughed at ; and at length he wrote to bis
wife, who, being by this time home-sick, came back,
and things went on as well as if nothing had hap
pened. From Dungiven I set out for Londonderry,
passing through a beautiful country, and over a
succession of undulating hills generally cultivated
to the summit. From a circumstance which had
taken place only the night before, I heard a little
more on the subject of elopements. The daughter
of a farmer whose house I passed had fled with
her suitor ; and the person who gave me the
history of the affair remarked that the custom was
getting gradually into disuse. The young men,
he said, not satisfied with voluntary elopements,
had latterly been guilty of everything but manual
violence. Having fixed upon a girl whose parents
were sufficiently wealthy for his purpose, the
aspirant took care to meet her and her friends
at a fair ; where, assisted by his accomplices, he
prevailed upon her to drink away her caution.
In the confusion of the crowd, and the obscurity
of the tvrilight, he found Uttle difficulty in sepa
rating her from her party, and carrying her off,
whether conscious or unconscious of her destina-

LONDONDERRY. 151
tion. After this, if the father did not choose to
comply with his terms, he sent his victim home,
with a ruined character. In this recital we have
distinctly before us the connecting link between
an odd but generally harmless custom, and the
violent and brutish abductions in other parts of
the country. The interested nature of the trans
action, even in this district is proved by a remark
of my informant, that the farmer's daughter men
tioned above ran no risk of being sent back, hav
ing taken the precaution of carrying a fifty pound
bank note with her.
I passed another of O'Cahan's castles by the
road side, but rudely built, and uninteresting.
The scenery, however, became still more pictur
esque as I approached Londonderry ; and at
length the city appeared, in its finest aspect,
that of an island (as it seemed from this distance)
in the midst of the Foyle, surrounded by battle-
mented walls, and piled up with houses, rising
towards the centre, the whole surmounted by a
single lofty spire. The view annexed is taken
from a different point ; but it exhibits distinctly a
very important feature in the picture, the long
and very handsome wooden bridge. The fortifi
cations consist of an earthen rampart faced with
stone, and strengthened with bastions. Within
there ar^ four main streets, with lanes diverging ;
the main streets being entered through archways.

152 IRELAND,
Outside are suburbs of a less distinguished cha
racter, for inside the walls, the greater part of the
town is built on a scale of high respectability,
Londonderry is a thriving town, and the inha
bitants have just the appearance which might be
expected. They are business-like people, and
have the air of knowing what they are about. I
observed, with a little amusement, the desolate
condition of a showman, who, by some unfor
tunate mistake, had here pitched his caravan. In
vain he shouted, in vain he thumped his drum, in
vain he paraded his corps dramatique : no one even
turned his head to look as he passed by. At eight
o'clock in the evening, I walked round the ram
parts, a delightful promenade, rendered at the time
as light as day by means of numerous lamps, but I
did not encounter a human being, Londonderry
is in fact a very respectable town, and its inhabi
tants are very respectable people ; but, since I
have, on the present occasion, but little to do with
business details, I may be excused for continuing
my journey with as brief delay as possible.

CHAPTER XI.

Strabane — Stranorlan — Gap of Bamosmore — Singularity of the Country
— Donegal — Description of the Old Castle — Theatrical aspect of the
Bay — Pilgrimage to Lough Dergh — Route to Ballyshannon — Lough
Erne — Travelling Exaggerations — Devenish Island — EnniskiUen.

Leaving Londonderry, I found the country for
some little distance of nearly the same pleasing-
character, which is to me the only charm of that
great bulwark of protestantism. This did not con
tinue long, however, and after a comparatively
uninteresting ride of fourteen miles, I reached Stra
bane ; a most confusedly built, and somewhat
unsightly town, but populous and substantial.
Hitherto I had pursued my journey without any
attention to method ; now walking, now riding,
now mounting a mail-car for a few miles, now
hiring a conveyance of my own, and now breaking
my compact with the driver, and not meeting him
till he had reached his place of destination, where it
was necessary for me to look after my baggage.

154

IRELAND,

But at Strabane, finding that there was little game
for such a sportsman as myself to be expected on
the road — or, at least, little that could not be
brought down flying — I mounted the Sligo mail.
This coach, from Strabane to Donegal, where I
alighted, I am enabled to say is, without any ex
ception, the worst horsed vehicle in all Ireland.
The scenery was occasionally pretty till after we
had passed the little town of Stranorlan — where, by
the same token there was a large cattle fair going
on in the street, and, among the crowd, the iden
tical young girl whom the reader will see on the
opposite page. She is a " rich " but not a " rare "
specimen of what in England would be a market
girl, although in Ireland the young lady is in all
probability the daughter of a small farmer. It would
seem to be hardly time to expect a change in phy
siognomy, for we are still in the north ; but cer
tainly the glowing eyes of the true natives begin at
this place to mingle with the wary and yet tranquil
orbs of the settlers of King James. At the fair the
people were, with hardly an exception, respectably
clothed. Soon after the hum of the fair had died upon my
ear, the country began insensibly to assume a wild
and dreary aspect. We climbed an ascent, which,
although not steep, appeared interminable. The
cultivated fields dwindled into patches of green or
yellow, daubed here and there upon a dark heather
ground ; and at length the traces of human industry

0^4^ ^^€^^ ,.yMa>t^Ka^ ^Si^>t^

GAP OF BARNOSMORE. 155
altogether ceased, and we found ourselves in the
domain of nature. Nothing could be more cheer
less than the earth — nothing more gloomy than the
sky, which appeared to clasp rather than overhang
it. A lonely tarn, grey and motionless, lay before
us ; and on its banks stood a single hut. Behind
these, forming the back ground of the picture,
were the round heads of two hills, booming hazily
through a thin veil of clouds, and between them the
road was lost in what appeared to be some mea
sureless and mysterious gulf. This defile is called
the Gap of Bamosmore.
Just before entering the pass, there is a small
ruin on the right, only interesting from its situa
tion. Viewed from the road, it seems to be the
roofless remains of a small square house, possessing
nothing of the castellated form. It was built, how
ever, it is said, in King James's time, to guard the
defile ; and in this dreary habitation the Hugonot
Rapin wrote his unreadable history.
On entering the gorge of the hills, I did not find
myself in the narrow and perilous pass I had ex
pected from the exterior. The sides, indeed, were
steep and rugged, but the area between was
rather a valley than a chasm. Still this very ex
tent added to the idea of desolation, which was
farther increased by the appearance of one or two
huts of the most wretched kind. Altogether I think
the Gap of Bamosmore worthy of its reputation as

156 IRELAND,
a picture, provided it is seen from its northern
entrance, A traveller coming from the south, like
Mr, Inglis, will be disappointed, and perhaps, like
him, be inclined to vent his chagrin upon the guide
books. On emerging from the pass, cultivation returned
by degrees. The huts were still wretched, but
with, here and there, a neat cottage interspersed ;
till at length the appearance of comfort became
predominant. The country around Donegal is
highly cultivated, and the surface of so singular a
character as to make one imagine it at first to be
the contrivance of human taste or caprice. It is
studded with circular mounds, of various sizes, but
all regularly formed ; and as these were covered
with grain, in every stage of ripeness, the effect of
the variety of such masses of colour was novel and
brilliant. Donegal is a small town, of a most countrified
appearance, set down near a nook of the bay. It
consists of a triangular market-place of tolerable
houses, and some lines of cottages extending from
it. The inn is in the triangle ; and I had therefore
an opportunity of inspecting the interior commerce
of the town ; which consisted, during the best hours
of the forenoon, of the sale and purchase, in small
lots, of an ass's load of potatoes. The place, of
course, is very poor ; and the beggars so numerous
that the shopkeepers have entered into an agree-

DONEGAL CASTLE. 157
ment with each other to give charity only once a
week, Monday is the relieving day fixed by this
Poor Law.
The only attraction to the tourist in Donegal is
the old castle, once the residence of the O'Donnells.
This ruin stands on the margin of the river, and is
somewhat peculiar in form. It is inclosed by the
river on one side, and on the others by an almost
semicircular wall, where was probably the entrance.
The edifice consists of an oblong building of three
stories, and a vast pile of five stories, connected with
the northern end of the former at right angles.
The oblong has now neither roof nor floor above
the ground ; but its windows (of the square gothic
kind) and chimneys are sufficiently entire. The
square pile is composed, on the ground floor, of a
vast vaulted apartment ; from one corner of which
rises a narrow spiral staircase, communicating with
what was, no doubt, the banquetting hall, by a
small arched door-way of sculptured stone. The
principal access to this story, however, seems to
have been by a stair ascending from the interior of
the oblong building. There are now no vestiges
of the steps, but the door-way into the hall, which
is arched with cut stone, is entire.
The hall appears to have been a magnificent
room, with a noble bay window at one end, and an
immense chimney, richly adorned with the O'Don-
nell arms, and other sculpture. The chimney is
not in the middle of the wall, but nearer the bay

158 IRELAND.
window ; while at the other end there is a smaller
chimney, which leads one to suppose that that
which seems now one vast apartment was formerly
divided into a larger and a smaller one. The rooms
above, being without floor or roof can be dis
tinguished only by their windows and chimneys.
There is no door-way leading directly into the
square pile, which may be called the keep. One
with a Saxon arch — the only specimen of this arch in
the edifice — enters the oblong building close by the
keep, and was intended no doubt to communicate
with the vaulted story ; but another, and evidently
the principal entrance, is situated near the farther
end of the same building, so that the guests going
to the banquetting hall would have to pass through
a suite of rooms. Upon the whole this is one of the
most beautiful ruins of the kind I have seen.
At the end of the oblong, opposite to the keep,
there is another mass of buildings, of which it is
impossible to tell what was the extent ; although,
from the less careful architecture, it is probable
that they contained the offices and servants' rooms.
In the annexed beautiful view, the spectator is sup
posed to stand on the opposite side of a bridge,
which here spans the river.
On the other side of the town, and on the shores
of the bay, there are some confused remains of an
abbey of the fifteenth century, founded by an
O'Donnell. In this direction the situation of the
town is more distinctly seen. It stands in the

Patrick's purgatory. 159
innermost nook of the bay, which appears to be
separated from the broader water by a group of the
circular mounds I have described. They rise
gracefully swelling from the surface of the land,
the base of one being in general connected with
that of another ; and the sea is not visible behind
them. This gives a singular and beautiful air to
the picture ; and the scenic effect is wonderfully
increased when you see a vessel, in full sail, passing
between two of the little, richly-coloured hills.
Nothing can be more theatrical.
It was my intention, while at Donegal, to have
made an excursion to Pettigo, for the purpose of
visiting Lough Dergh ; but, understanding it was
too late in the season for the famous pilgrimage to
Patrick's Purgatory, the period for which ends on
the 15th of August, I determined to pursue my
journey to Ballyshannon. For the advantage, how
ever, of travellers who may be more fortunate than
myself, in regard to time, I shall extract from the
" Northern Tourist " a brief account of the doings
they may expect to witness ; only premising that
the Lough, about nine miles in circumference, is
situated in a most dreary solitude, surrounded by
bleak and barren hills.
" The island to which the pilgrims resort, and
which lies about half a mile from the shore, is of
very limited dimensions, rising a little above the
level of the lake, and presenting altogether a barren,
forbidding aspect. It is covered with modern

160 IRELAND.
buildings, six in number, fitted up, for the most part,
as places of worship, and each one dedicated to
some particular saint : in the vicinity of these are
a number of circular stone walls, from one to two
feet in height, inclosing broken stone or wooden
crosses, which are called saints' beds ; and, around
these, on the hard and pointed rocks, the penitents
pass upon their bare knees, repeating a certain form
of prayer at each. They then visit the chapels,
where they remain night and day, performing cer
tain ceremonies, and saying a prescribed number of
prayers, which are in proportion to the amount or
degree of crime committed. The pilgrim, while
engaged in these rites, which generally occupy
several days, is allowed to partake of but one meal
of bread and water in the twenty-four hours ; and
while in the prison, in which the individual con
tinues a day and a night previous to quitting the
island, food of any description is prohibited.
Twenty-four priests are appointed to this place,
each officiating for one hour at a time.
" The pilgrims are kept awake at night by a man
appointed for the purpose, who, with a small switch
or rod, gently taps any one he may perceive dis
posed to slumber. On the spot upon which the
Httle chapel dedicated to St. Patrick now stands,
there is a rock, in which was formerlv a cave, ca-
pable of holding six or eight persons, where it was
believed the pains and torments that await the
wicked in another world might be experienced by

CAVE OF ULYSSES. 161
those who entered it ; and which Sir James
Ware, in his Antiquities, attempts to prove, was
hollowed out by Ulysses, while sojourning in this
spot, to enable him to hold converse with some of
the inhabitants of the infernal regions. This was
the last place visited by the penitents, and in this
they had to remain all night. From its closeness,
and from want of sufficient air, many persons from
time to time lost their lives in it, while others were
deprived of their senses. In consequence of which,
in the year 1630, it was suppressed by order of the
Lords Justices, who had it laid open to public view,
and the whole affair exposed. It was, however,
during the reign of James II., again resorted to as
a place of penance, and a new cave hollowed out
of the rock ; and it remained so till about the year
1780, when it was closed up by order of the prior,
who considered it dangerous on account of the
number of persons who crowded into it at once, that
they might, by the sufferings they endured in it,
escape the torments to be inflicted in another world.
The chapel, dedicated to St. Patrick, which is
called the Prison-house, is now substituted for this
cave. " It is almost incredible what crowds visit this
island annually during the months of June, July,
and August ; it being no unusual thing to see from
900 to 1300 persons, of both sexes, upon it at one
and the same time — an extraordinary circumstance,
when it is considered that the island does not
M

162 IRELAND.
measure more than three hundred paces in any di
rection. They are ferried across in a boat, which
can carry seventy or eighty persons at once, for
which they are charged sixpence halfpenny each ;
and yet so inadequate is this conveyance to the
purpose, that the shores of the lake are frequently
covered with persons waiting their turn — the
greater number of whom have arrived from very
distant places, many from England, some from
France, and others all the way from America, It
has been justly observed by an intelligent writer,
that a painter who wished to make a drawing of
the river Styx, the ferryman and his boat, with the
groups of expectant shadows on the banks, could
not find a better bodying forth of that imaginary
scene than is presented by Lough Dergh, The
island has, in comparatively recent times, been
rendered notorious by a sermon preached in its
favour by Pope Benedict XIV, ; and, in the course
of the present year, an advertisement has appeared
in the public papers, from a Roman Catholic Bishop,
stating his intention of holding a station in it
during the present season. Some years since, in
consequence of the number of persons who had
crowded into the boat, it was upset, when the ma
jority of the unfortunate individuals met a watery
grave." On leaving Donegal for Ballyshannon, nothing
for some distance could be more beautiful, or, to
my eyes, more original, than the aspect of the

BUBBLES OF THE EARTH. 163
country. The singular mounds, rich with all kinds
of vegetation, and the . harvest colours of the fields
from which, though uncommon in themselves, they
rose with a natural swell, gave a touch of the
fantastic to mere beauty, which heightened its
effect. A change at length took place, but softly
and gradually. The dark mountains of Sligo, with
the magnificent headland of Benbulben, hove into
sight ; and, looking backwards, all traces of the fairy
hills had disappeared so completely, that I was
tempted to exclaim.

" The earth hath bubbles as the water hath.
And these are of them."

Ballyshannon appeared a dozen miles off, the space
between resembling a vast plain : but this was an
optical illusion of a very common kind ; for, on de
scending into the plain, it changed into a series of
low hills, on one of which the town stood. To
the right were numerous sand-hills, and extensive
tracts of sand stretching along the sea.
Of Ballyshannon I have nothing to say ; but Mr.
Creswick, the reader will perceive, is eloquent on
the subject. Except in point of situation, in fact,
the town is altogether uninteresting : and, although
its salmon fisheries are important, we had enough
of that sport at Coleraine.
I was now desirous of seeing Lough Erne, so ce-
M 2

164 IRELAND.
lebrated for its beauty ; and the best way to do this
completely is to seat oneself on the top of the mail-
coach for EnniskiUen. The road runs along the
edge of the water almost the entire distance, and
the traveller has a better opportunity of observing
at least the lower lake than when floating on its
bosom. For some time we journeyed on by the
side of a most uninteresting stream, which I was
told was the lake. The land on either side was a
mere heath, with here and there cottages as mi
serable as any I have seen in the Bog of Allen.
This, however, was by and by at an end ; for the
river widened into a lake, and the hills on the right
hand became bolder and loftier. Still I profess
myself to have been altogether unable to discover
on what the reputation of Lough Erne rests. It
possesses, no doubt, the softness of shading that
must belong to a large sheet of water, situated in a
tract of country which is, generally speaking, without
rugged, or otherwise remarkable features; but even
in this respect it is eclipsed by several both of the
Scottish and English lakes. There are some fine
points of view, and some beautifully wooded islands,
but this is all I can say. The islands at length
become so numerous that the traveller cannot fail
to be struck with the truth of a remark which has
been applied to the lake— that it looks Hke a country
laid under water.
I confess, however, that Lough Erne would, in
all probabihty, have appeared more beautiful to

LOUGH ERNE. 165
me, had not its beauties been so grossly exaggerated.
But, such as they are, I fear next year's visitors
will see still fewer of them than 1 did, the islands
of a considerable portion of the lower lake being
sentenced to lose their trees. That these trees
are not in themselves, as wood, of great importance,
may be collected from the fact, that they have been
bought by a Birmingham house, chiefly for the
purpose of making women's clogs. Within a mile
or two of EnniskiUen is Devenish Island, which
may be described as a large grassy knoll, with
out tree or shrub. Here, however, is interest
enough without the picturesque ; the whole soil
of the island being holy ground to the anti
quarian. Near the summit are the ruins of an abbey, de
dicated to St. Mary ; and below, a church, dedi
cated to St. Molush. There are also a Gothic
building, called St. Molush's House, and a stone
trough sunk into the ground, called St. Molush's
Bed ; and last, not least, a Round Tower, which, as
I have observed in last year's volume, is usually, if
not always found — when it is found at all — by the
side of Christian antiquities. " The abbey," says a
writer in the Belfast Magazine, " is built of black
marble, a material not used in any other edifice on
the island ; and it seems, from its style of archi
tecture, to be of more modern date than any of
them. A stranger is greatly struck on passing under
the fine Gothic arch of the transept, still in excel-

166 IRELAND.
lent preservation, by the sharpness of all the lines
of the work, which are so highly polished, and so
perfect as to seem fresh from the chisel of the work
man." Stanihurst accounts for the formation of Lough
Erne by the following tradition. A woman came
one day to a holy well which was on the spot, and
after she had finished her devotions, instead of
covering down the lid, she turned away to still her
child, who cried. Her omission to cover the well,
which should have been done instantaneously, was
fatal ; for, in returning, in a fright, to redeem her
error, she was met by the water, and drowned in
the inundation which took place. Our author adds,
that this story is the more probable, from the fact,
that fishermen, in a sunny day, perceive distinctly
various towers and steeples under the transparent
wave. Annexed is a view, presenting the Lower Lake,
near Ballyshannon, in its most favourable aspect.
The Upper and Lower Lake are connected by a
comparatively narrow channel ; and, in the middle
of this channel, there is an island, on which stands
EnniskiUen. The situation of the town, therefore,
is fine. It is a busy, bustling place, which enjoys a
considerable traffic ; but there is no object in the
interior which can detain the steps of the traveller.

CHAPTER XII.

Singular boundaries of Leitrim and Shgo — Situation of Shgo — Effect
of colour on the picture — Sligo during the pestilence — Business of
the town — Advantage derived from the Scottish banking system —
Library — Lands and Rents — Condition of the People on the western
coast — Anecdote — Road to Boyle — Stupidity of the Peasants —
The Shannon — The Deserted Village — Athlone and its Anarchy —
Personal adventure.

I LEFT EnniskiUen for Sligo, and, till we reached
Manor Hamilton, found the road perfectly unin
teresting. This is a wretched place, only distin
guished by the dreary and extensive ruins of a
castle. The country now began to improve ; and,
by and by, about the boundaries of Leitrim and
Sligo, it presented an aspect not less curious than
picturesque. Had it not been full day-light, with a clear
atmosphere, I could have supposed myself to be on
the frontiers of a country defended by fortresses.
The immense masses of rock, among which the
road wound, appeared to be crowned with castles.

168 IRELAND.
the grey walls of which rose from the summit as
perpendicularly as if they had been built by the
square and plummet. Sometimes the resemblance
was rendered more complete by round towers,
strengthening the angles of the courtine walls.
This extraordinary scene continued for some time,
till at length, having passed the warlike boundary,
we were fairly admitted into the county Sligo, and
to the view of its unique and magnificent bay.
The town of Sligo, except for a little space towards
the sea, is girded round by a chain of lofty hills, of
which Knocknarea on one hand, and Benbulben on
the other, form the two terminations. But what
constitutes the peculiarity of the landscape, is not
the height of these hills, but their outline, which is
only rivalled in savage grandeur by some of the
mountains of Scotland, There are only four passes
into the amphitheatre formed by this remarkable
range. The bottom of the amphitheatre, where the
town stands, is one mass of the richest verdure, only
diversified by a lake, which, for softness of shading,
and all the other attributes of quiet beauty, is not
surpassed even in this beautiful country. Lough
Gill is only six or seven miles long ; but, to my
taste, it is infinitely finer than its gigantic neigh
bour, Lough Erne.
One great component part of beauty is colour;
and, fine as are the features of the scene before us, I
attribute a considerable portion of their effect to the
rich and brilliant hues with which nature is here

SLIGO DURING THE PESTILENCE. 169
adorned. In this region Ireland is truly the
Emerald isle. All is vivid, all is sparkling to the
eye ; and the dark mountains, which form the set
ting of the gem, only increase its lustre by the con
trast. Nothing can be richer than the waving
fields of Sligo — nothing more beautiful than the
undulations of which they form the surface. But
— (alas, that there should be a but !) the bounties
which nature bestows upon the vegetable kingdom
are not always conducive to the welfare of those
who inherit it ; and the almost perpetual rains,
which here keep the face of the soil for ever fresh
and fair, are far from operating in a similar manner
upon its inhabitants. At those times when the
country is visited by contagion, this paradise of
beauty, in consequence, I have no doubt, of the ex
treme humidity of the atmosphere, is a perfect
lazar-house of disease.
The Asiatic pestilence, which raged some years
ago in Europe under the name of cholera, threa
tened to- depopulate Sligo ; and the precautions
which it became necessary to observe by the sur
rounding country, almost deprived the inhabitants
of every gleam of hope. A line was drawn round
the devoted town, beyond which there was no
escape; and those who attempted to fly where
driven back, as if into a grave. Nothing was heard
in the streets but sounds of lamentations and des
pair. Even the phenomena of external nature served
for omens and predictions of evil. Some flashes of

170 IRELAND.
lightning had heralded the approach of the angel of
the pestilence ; but during his sojourn, a heavy
cloud brooded over the town. Not a ray of sun
shine was visible by day, and not a star by night.
At this juncture men naturally reverted to those
feelings of religion which before were dimmed or
deadened by the seductions of the world ; and every
hour of every day they found the Refuge open for
their admission, and the servants of the sanctuary
at their post. Catholic, protestant, dissenter —
all were alike the ministers of God. On this great
day of judgment, there was not one priest of any
denomination who shrunk from his perilous duty.
Wherever their presence was required, there they
took their stand — at the foot of the altar — at the
bed of the dying — by the side of the new made
grave. Every heart confessed that death was not
the master, but the agent of the dispensation ; for,
rising high above the sound of his footsteps, as he
passed through the houses, came a voice from the
many-portalled temple of the Lord Jesus Christ,
proclaiming, " Come to me, and I will give you
life !"
During the period of this visitation, only one
clergyman — a baptist minister— lost his life; while
the physicians of the body were nearly all swept off.
Besides these two classes, the authorities of the
town did their duty well and bravely. Mr,
Fausset, the provost, rode in every morning from
the security of his country-house, with as great

CHOLERA. 171
regularity as if all had been well, to visit the hos
pitals, bury the dead, preserve order in the streets,
and take his seat as president of the Board of
Health. In spite of his unrelaxing labours, he one
morning, on reaching the town, saw the grounds of
the Fever Hospital covered with unburied corpses ;
— and then, as he expressed it to me himself, he
felt as if the end of the world were indeed come.
The Board of Health consisted at first of twelve
members, who were rapidly diminished to seven.
Nearly their whole duty at last was to grant coffins
and tarred sheets for the dead bodies, and to see
that the stock of those materials was kept up. One
day two poor little boys came to beg a coffin for
their mother ; and the provost, struck by their for
lorn appearance, asked why their father had not
come, who would have been better able to carry it ?
" We buried our father yesterday. Sir," was the
reply. According to the best observers here, the disease
was both infectious and contagious. It showed no
respect of persons : the rich and the poor shared
the same fate — the old and young, the sober and
dissipated, the strong and feeble. I know an old
lady, ninety years of age, still alive, and well
enough to have remembered me after an interval of
a dozen years, whose coffin was made, and the
tarred sheet brought into the room to wrap round
her body.
During the interval I have mentioned, Sligo has

172 IRELAND.
at least doubled its business, and it may therefore
be considered one of the most flourishing towns in
Ireland, Before my visit, a dozen years ago, there
was no bank ; now there are four. But this is too
much of a good thing ; and, after having expe
rienced the benefits of the banking system, Sligo
may look for a fair proportion of its evils. If the
four offices do even a moderate business each, a
false capital must be set afloat ; and we all know
that the activity produced by such means is like the
energy of intoxication, which gives place in due
time to lassitude, exhaustion, and repentance. The
notary for all these four banks informed me, that
sometimes he was not called upon to protest a single
bill for several weeks at a time; but this is no
evidence of commercial health in Ireland. There a
simple notice of nonpayment is all that is necessary,
and, generally speaking, all that is customary ;
while the system of renewals is carried on to an
extent that is but little known in England.
It cannot be denied, however, that the first bank
established here, a branch of the Provincial Bank
of Ireland, has done much good. The Scottish
plan of lending money on good security, or open
ing what are technically called cash credit accounts,
was exactly what Ireland wanted. It did not intro
duce proximately new capital into the country, but
it put into activity the dormant capital already ex
isting. The effects of this are strikingly visible in
the rising fortunes of more than one country gentle-

ADVANTAGES OF SCOTTISH BANKS. 173
man in the neighbourhood whom I could name.
The establishment of these banks throughout the
country, I look upon as the greatest step that has
been taken in my time towards the advancement of
Ireland in wealth and civilization. Dublin is no
longer the centre and reservoir of every thing valu
able. People are able to look at home even for
loans of money ; and the advantages of a metropolis
are distributed over the whole kingdom. But it
must not be supposed that Dublin falls in anything
like the same proportion that the provinces rise
— the necessity of which I have heard asserted by
superficial reasoners. The benefits derived from
the country banks would not, in many cases, have
been enjoyed at all but for them ; and thus they
may be said to promote the prosperity of the coun
try, without otherwise materially injuring the
capital, than by destroying its metropolitan pres
tige. A dozen years ago a circulating library had been
attempted in Sligo, but failed for want of readers :
now there is a public library, on a very respectable
footing, kept in a neat and commodious house.
The English reader will smile at this boast respect
ing a wealthy and flourishing town ; but there are
not above two or three towns in all Ireland which
have the like to say. Even in Sligo the new library
is not in a very healthy state ; and when the fact is
considered, that there are no good schools for the
upper classes in the town, this will not appear sur-

174 IllELAND.
prising. The mania for a Dublin or a foreign
education, however, will no doubt subside by de
grees ; and each Irish town of respectability will
pride itself on instilling into its inhabitants a taste
for reading, and on being able to supply them with
books to gratify it. For the other classes there is a
National school ; but it is in effect a Catholic school,
since no Protestant will enter it. The Irish mono
mania, I need not add, is almost at its height in
SHgo. Mr. Inglis has made one or two mistakes respect
ing this district. The rent of land is by no means
exorbitant ; the usual amount, with the exception,
of course, of the town parks, being thirty shillings
an Irish acre. Mr. Wynne is rather an indolent
than a bad landlord ; and, however high he may
keep his nominal rent-roll, no one accuses him of
attempting to realize it by means of cruelty or op
pression. He is one of those individuals who have
benefited by the introduction of the Scottish bank
ing system ; and the fact is apparent on his estate.
Very differently is Lord Palmerston situated, of
whose property Mr. Inglis gives so glowing an ac
count. If his lordship had still more capital to
spend, and still more inclination to spend it for
the good of the country, it would take a life-time to
bring his tenantry even to a par with those of Mr,
Wynne, His lands lie chiefly on the sea-coast, be
tween Sligo and Ballyshannon ; a wild and barren
district, where the Dartery mountains are washed

IRISH SAVAGES. 175
by the Atlantic, and where, in many places, the
natives have hardly any pretensions to the name
of civilized beings. Some persons argue that the
misery of the people on this coast proceeds from
their own laziness ; and one gentleman related to
me the following anecdote in support of this
opinion. I, on the other hand, repeat it in support
of mine, that the evil arises from the almost brutal
ignorance which prevails in such districts. I must
premise, however, that I do not remember whether
the transaction in question took place on Lord Pal
merston 's estate; although it would hardly be
injustice to give it a local habitation in almost any
part of the western shore.
A gentleman, as my informer told me, commi
serating the condition of the people, who patiently
endured the pangs of hunger when the sea before
them teemed with wholesome and deHcious food,
purchased a boat for the purpose of making an ex
periment. He invited some of the most destitute
among them to accompany him to the fishing, pro
mising, in return for their share of the labour, to
give them a due share of what they caught. They
refused to labour without wages ; and, after in vain
endeavouring to make them comprehend that his
offer was much better than the ordinary rate of
payment, he added to the chance of the fishing a
day's wages. On this they consented. The fish
ing was completely successful ; and, in addition to
supplying their families with abundance of excel-

176 IRELAND.
lent food, they made some money by selling what
remained. This was all their benefactor wanted.
His experiment had succeeded ; for it had con
vinced the people that they were able, by their own
industry, to make a comfortable and independent
subsistence. " I lend you my boat," said he, " till you are
able to purchase one for yourselves. Go, and
make a good use of it : be industrious, and be
happy." " But the day's wages ? " cried they.
" The day's wages ! " Argument was vain: they
demanded a day's wages as before, and would not
stir without. Their benefactor gave up his attempt
in shame and sorrow, and the unhappy savages re
turned to their hunger and their despair.
The usual excursions from Sligo are to Lough
Gill, to the top of Knochnarea, which commands
an extensive view of the coast and the ocean, and
to the Glen, a deep chasm at the bottom of this hill.
Within the town are the ruins of an abbey of the
fifteenth century, exhibiting sculptures of some
interest to the antiquary. The only excursion I
was able to make myself, on the present occasion,
was to Willsboro', the seat of Mr. Fausset, who
renewed the kind and hospitable attentions for
which I was deeply indebted to him, and most
of the other gentlemen of Sligo, a dozen years
ago. All I have to add respecting the town is, that it

CUSTOMS OF THE PEASANTS. 177
contains several good inns ; but, to the lovers of
home-comfort, I recommend the York Hotel, in
Jail Street, kept by a respectable family of five
ladies, who exert all the tact which is native to
their sex in ministering to the comfort of the tra
veller. I have little to say respecting the road between
Sligo and Athlone. After leaving such scenery
behind, the first thing which appeared in any
way remarkable was the mountainous descent into
Boyle. This took place in the dark ; and, owing to
the abrupt turns of the road, it was not unattended
with danger. One peculiarity in the peasantry,
which I had frequently observed before, was here
very striking. When ascending a hill at night
with their horse and cart, they cannot be brought
to shout when they hear a coach thundering down
upon them. They continue tugging in silence at
their horse, to get him out of the way ; and the
driver of the descending vehicle has no notice of
their presence till a collision appears almost in
evitable. But they are not the only obstacle in the
path ; for an Irish peasant never thinks of throwing
aside, when he has done with it, the stone which he
puts behind the wheel of his cart. There it lies
for the benefit of the next comer ; and, being about
ten times larger than there is any occasion for, the
traveller is always sure of enjoying a smart con
cussion, if it should fail of overturning his car
riage, N

178 IRELAND.
The town of Boyle, its river, its ruined abbey,
and its inn, are all perfectly respectable, but not so
striking as to deserve remark in a journey so fertile
in the beautiful and the extraordinary. At Carrick
on Shannon I fell in with the celebrated river which
I hope will one day roll over golden sands. The
Shannon here appeared to me in the likeness of a
succession of lakes little better than marshes. The
whole district, in fact, during the rainy season, looks
like a marsh here and there reclaimed. Lough
Allen, which lies to the north of this, enjoys the
reputation of being the parent of the Shannon ; but
a late writer, the author of a " Journey to Kilkea,"
will have it that the Shannon Pot is the true
source. The Shannon Pot lies in a valley, between
the Caileagh and Surganacallagh mountains in the
county Cavan, and is a pot of very convenient size.
" The source, or spring, is of a circular form, about
fifty feet in diameter, called the Shannon Pot, or,
more generally, Seigmons-head. It boils up in
the centre, and a continued stream flows from it of
about eight feet wide and two deep, in the driest
season, and runs four miles an hour."
Jamestown is distinguished by a curious old gate,
which serves as the entrance to the town, a single
street of mean houses. Drumsna, on the other
hand, is neat and more modern. Longford would
be an excellent town anywhere, but it is not pic
turesque ; and here I embarked for Ballymahon in
the canal boat, in which I had an uninteresting sail

THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 179
through a flat country. At Ballymahon, which is
rather a considerable town, without any individuality,
I hired a car for Athlone ; and, by the way, amused
myself with looking at the place where Goldsmith's
house is not. Near the road is a ruin of consider
able size, resembling a farm-house of three stories,
with outhouses ; and this is supposed to have been
the minister's abode. There is also a church on
the top of the hill, and an alehouse by the way
side, with a short thick pillar of stones marking
the place where the hawthorn was. Notwithstanding
these things, however, I cannot say that I was able
to identify the spot in imagination with the neigh
bourhood of the
"  loveliest village of the plain.'

Auburn, and all its appliances, were English, not
Irish ; and there is something — I had almost said,
in the very atmosphere of Ireland peculiar to the
country. Upon the whole, the admirers of the
" Deserted Village," who would keep their associa
tions pure and poetical, had better leave this Yarrow
unvisited, Athlone I found to be an irregularly built, con
fused, huddled, but withal substantial-looking
town. The Shannon runs through the middle, the
two sides being connected by a narrow, antique
bridge. On the right bank are the citadel and
N 2

180 IllELAND.
barracks ; and as boats cannot ascend the rapids of
the Shannon, this side is formed into an island by
a canal for their passage, over which are two bridges.
Notwithstanding the inconvenient form of the old
bridge, the market is held on the island ; and the
scene of confusion presented — which I had the good
fortune to witness — is without parallel in Ireland,
or, I believe, in Europe.
The peasants flocked over, as they usually do,
like a herd of bullocks ; but with this difference,
that they, unlike their cattle, had neither dogs nor
men to direct and control them. The narrow way
was barricadoed by several carts, which lay there
without horses ; and, after standing for half an
hour up to my ancles in mud, endeavouring here
and there to insinuate myself between the carts,
and under the horses' heads, sometimes with, and
sometimes without success, I was fain to return as I
had come, being informed that the stoppage would
in all probability continue for several hours. I
chanced to stand near a gentleman, apparently an
unconcerned spectator like myself, who, addressing
me with a smile, remarked — " This is a strange
scene. Sir ! " The gentleman was one of the ma
gistrates of Athlone ! I saw, also, some of the
police in the crowd, making the best of their way
through it, and leaving every body else to do the
same. On returning to the inn I was informed that
there were still more impatient travellers than my-

ATHLONE. 181
self on the other side of the bridge. The agent of
the Gal way coach had that morning waited on the
magistrates, to request that they would order the
police to clear a passage, the coach being just ex
pected ; and the reply of these worthy functionaries
was, " We have nothing to do with it ; you must
manage as you can." The coach in the meantime
had arrived, and was now waiting till the tumult
should think proper to quell itself — a consummation
which was not destined to take place for nearly two
hours. You cannot walk in the streets of Athlone : you
must wade. So inconceivably dirty a place does
not exist in Europe, and the broad streets are as
filthy as the narrow ones. On my return from the
bridge, I walked up the main street, through which
the country carts were crowding, four abreast, two
on the causeway, and one on each trottoir ; and it
may be imagined that, even by tacking from side
to side, and creeping under the horses' necks, I
made but slow progress. I understand that the
actual governor of the town is very generously,
though by no means justly rewarded for his negli
gence or incapacity.
A new bridge has been talked of for some years ;
but I fear there is no chance of the plan being car
ried into execution. The commerce of the river
seemed to me to be nearly confined to turf; but I
heard that considerable quantities of corn were ex
ported. The town, indeed, stands in the midst of

182 IRELAND.
a vast granary ; and there is no reason why it
should not do well.
Some time before, and some time after the abortive
attempt I have mentioned, I succeeded in wading
across the bridge, and the trouble was well repaid.
The citadel stands in the middle of this section of
the town, and is one of the most beautiful little for
tresses I ever saw either at home or abroad. Its
walls are of immense strength, and are fortified by
round towers at the angles. Ascending an inclined
plane, I crossed a drawbridge, which appeared to
have fallen into disuse, and entered the gate. The
buildings around are of no distinction ; but the
keep in the middle, a regular polygon of great
strength, is very fine. Cannons point in all direc
tions into the streets ; and, in case of insurrection,
this section of the town could be laid in ruins in a
very short time. Since an affray between the towns
people and the garrison, there is a regulation that
no person should be allowed to enter the citadel
without a pass-ticket, but this I did not learn till
after my visit. I walked through the place, ad
dressing the soldiers, and one of the officers, without
being questioned.
A larger and more commodious barrack stands
close by the citadel. On the other side of the bridge
are some uninteresting ruins of the cathedral, and a
fragment of the ancient walls, covered with ivy.
Unluckily I did not finish my survey of the town
by daylight ; and, when prowling about in the dark,

PERSONAL COMPLIMENT. 183
I was knocked down by some one of the inhabitants,
who came behind, and struck me so earnest a blow
on the back of the head with a bludgeon, that my
hat was cut through, as if with a knife. This com
pliment, which was followed by several others when
I was down, I have reason to believe, was intended
for one of the officers of the garrison, and I hope
the gentleman will excuse me for intercepting it.
The people at the inn were kind enough to advise
me to go to bed, and send for a doctor ; but I un
derstood too much of surgery to comply. I took
the former half of the advice, however, together
with a glass of whisky and water ; and, notwith
standing a very respectable loss of blood, a ride to
Shannon Harbour, the next morning, set all right
again.

CHAPTER XIII.

Specimen of an Irish Blunder— Shannon Harbour— Singular Rules of
the Canal-boat^ — Characteristics of the Shannon — Banagher — Ruins
of Meelick Abbey — Portumna — The Fair — The Irish Jig— Physio-
gnominal Notices — ¦Lough Derg — Killaloe — Rapidsof the Shannon —
Castle Cornwall — The treacherous Guest — To Limerick.

After all I left Athlone in good humour, having
been regaled, instead of breakfast, which I was
hardly comfortable enough to eat, with a genuine
specimen of an Irish blunder. While dressing, I
called the waiter, and said to him —
" Waiter, I have broken the string of my waist
coat : Pray, borrow a pin for me from the cham
ber-maid." " A pin. Sir ?" he repHed, " I will, Sir— is it a
wroiting pin. Sir ?" This sentence contains as full
a description, and explanation, of the Irish blunder
as could be written in a volume. An Irishman
blunders because he is too quick. His wits travel
too fast, and overshoot the mark. He catches, or
imagines he catches, your meaning, but does not

IRISH BLUNDER.

18,^

make sure that he has done so by comparing the
parts of the communication. If you ask a pin, he
does not take time to consider that at the moment
you are standing with the broken parts of your
dress in your hand which a pin is required to
fasten ; and still less does he imagine that there
is any connexion between the chambermaid from
whom he is to ask it and this instrument. He is
thinking of making out your bill, or of sending a
challenge, or of feather-beds, or wild geese, or
nothing at all at all — and he flies to bring you a
writing pin. Sir.
After a pleasant ride I arrived at Shannon Har
bour, where the traveller is struck by the mighty
size of the inn. This, I fear, is another example
of an Irish blunder. " The passengers by the canal
from Dublin are very numerous," reasoned the
projector, " and of course we must have an hotel of
proportionable size to receive them," He did not
consider that there is nothing in Shannon Harbour
to detain these passengers; who immediately on
their arrival embark in the steamboat, where they
are supplied not only with lodging but provisions,
while all the time they are progressing on their
journey. Some of the regulations of the Dublin
canal boats are really curious, and worth tran
scribing. " First Cabin. — Wine sold only in pints or
half-pints — and not more than one pint to each
person, A noggin of spirits, or half a nOggin of

186 IRELAND.
spirits and half a pint of wine, allowed to each
gentleman after dinner or supper-time : such allow
ance of spirits not extended to ladies, or wine or
spirits to children under ten years ; nor is the
allowance of wine or spirits of one person, with
out his or her express desire, to be transferred
to another.
" Second Cabin. — No more than two bottles of
porter, ale, or cider, or one bottle of any two of
them, allowed to each male passenger, and one of
any of them to each female, throughout the jour
ney ; and any passenger bringing liquor into the
boat, and using it, to forfeit his passage."
These regulations are either a frightfully true
index to the state of society, or an insult to the
Irish nation, for which the perpetrators should be
dragged through their own canal.
Hitherto the Shannon had resembled more a vast
collection of bog water than a mighty river. This,
I fear, will be considered by the Irish ladies
a still greater insult than circumscribing, as the
canal people do, their potations of whisky ; but a
man who speaks the truth must lay his account
with sometimes being thought impertinent. The
Shannon, I repeat, so far as I had pursued it — com
mencing in swamps, now flowing in a fine volume,
and now inundating the country — seemed to me to
possess none of the characteristics of a great river.
The soil was in general nearly on a level with its
surface ; and the hills in the neighbourhood

FLOATING ISLANDS. 187
were low. Its colour was precisely that of bog
water. In sailing from Shannon Harbour, however, the
river acquires a new and interesting character
superadded to this. It is still indeed a swamp,
but very beautiful. Everywhere islands appeared
rising just to the line of the water, and displaying
a surface hardly discernible from it, except by the
hay ricks which proved their fertility. By and by
the islands were thickly clothed with wood ; and as
the vessel wound between them in narrow and
intricate passages, I might have imagined myself
in the wilds of the new world. The trees appeared
to spring from the deep, for the low banks
were completely submerged. Before, behind, and
around us were these floating clumps of foliage ; and
vistas opened here and there by our side, showing
other islands, and a further expanse of deep and
tranquil water. I do not know that, in viewing
natural scenery, I have ever felt emotions more
new, and more delightful. The romantic associa
tions that are suspended while the world is pre
sent, come back upon my heart, and I felt that I
was enjoying the reality of a dream.
We at length reached Banagher, a thriving little
town, with a stone bridge over the Shannon, and a
canal by its side for vessels to pass. The passage
is defended by two small forts, one at each side.
Soon after, the ruins of Meelick Abbey on the
right bank made me almost regret that I had

188 IRELAND.
chosen a conveyance which admitted of no dallying
on the route. The following brief notices, how
ever, collected by an Irish periodical no longer in
existence, will serve a little better perhaps than
my own lucubrations,
" The Abbey of Meelick, or, as it is sometimes
written, Milick, is romantically situated on the
banks of the river Shannon, in the barony of
Longford, in the county of Galway, which was
anciently denominated Silanchia, or the territory
of O'Madden, and was founded by one of the
dynasts of Silanchia, in the year 1474, for con
ventual Franciscans.
" Meelick is nearly surrounded by the inunda
tion of the Shannon during the winter months ;
the lands in the vicinity are particularly rich and
fertile ; most of these were formerly held by the
monks of Meelick, but there are now, only two
brethren, who inhabit a small dwelling house, an
nexed to the old abbey, adjoining to which they
have erected a chapel, where they perform service.
— They have a few acres of land on lease from the
Marquis of Clanricarde, who is now lord of the
soil, the abbey having been, at its suppression,
granted to Sir John King, who assigned it to the
Earl of Clanricarde.
" In the Munster annals we find, ' that in the
year 1203, William de Burgo marched at the head
of a great army into Connaught, and so to Milick,
and did there profanely convert the church into a

ABBEY OF meelick. 189
stable, round which he erected a castle of a circular
form, wherein he was seen to eat flesh-meat during
the whole time of lent,'
" There is no more ancient inscription amongst
the monuments at Meelick than 1643 ; and there is
in the cellar of the convent, an hexagonal stone very
neatly cut, evidently the boll of a cross, with the
following inscription : —
1645, ORATE PRO ANIMA PRECLARI DOMINI, MALACHl o'mADDEN, ET
MARGARIT.JB OROMPTON, CONJUGIBUS QUI ME EBBXERIlNT.
" The library of Meelick was once rich, but is now
reduced to a few mutilated volumes of school divi
nity, perishing from damp and neglect.
" At present the roofless walls of this once sump
tuous building, are mouldering in decay, or falling
a prey to the ruthless hands of modern Vandals.
The beautiful pillar that once separated and sup
ported the arches, on the south side of the edifice
has been torn away to supply head-stones for
the humble occupants of the neighbouring narrow
cells," The next town was Portumna ; and here the
river expanded into a lake twenty-three miles in
length, and we left the steamer by which we had
come to enter into another better fitted for breast
ing the waters of Lough Derg, The latter, how
ever, had not yet reached the station, and I seized
the opportunity to visit the town, at a distance of
about a mile.

190 IRELAND.
This should hardly be called a town. It is in
reality a straggling, yet very substantial village ;
and I found a fair going on, with a very respectable
show of horses. The situation of the place is cen
tral for the neighbouring population of Galway,
Clare, and Tipperary ; and although a great crowd
had already assembled, vast numbers were flocking
in from all parts of the compass. It was still early
in the day, and business rather than pleasure
seemed to be the object of the multitude ; but here
and there I perceived some indications that the
evening was looked forward to, and occasionally
the twang of a violin came upon my ear like a pro
phecy. Pursuing my way further among the
crowd, I at length perceived that the dawn of
amusement was actually breaking — in a likeness
which is admirably well described by Mr. M'Clise,
on the opposite page. The Irish are not great
dancers ; they never dance save on important oc
casions ; but when they do dance, they dance with
that enthusiasm which manifests itself in all their
actions, except the action of working.
The young girl before us, although her action is
not boisterous, is dancing with soul and body. Her
eyes, feet, and hair jig it at the same moment. Her
hair, indeed, is rather out of bounds in its amuse
ment, considering that it was actually combed in
the morning — a discipline of extraordinary rarity.
But this is the consequence of habit, and may
easily be forgiven, especially on a fair-day. It will

IJ. J^OJlLLSt., ^- Ji.M..

Q^y^,^' ^_yy^^^^-^,

LOUGH DERG. 191
be seen that this girl is not of northern origin.
Her father lived farther down the Shannon, and,
from his gait, features, and even name, you may
observe that he belongs to that Spanish colony
which spread itself over the country west of the
river. She is herself Spanish all over, with a dash
of indolent voluptuousness which proclaims her
ancestry. If she belonged to the country farther
north, her face would have been round instead of
oval, her eyes small, and her nose short, sharp, and
retrouss6. If farther north still, she would have
rejoiced in the strongly-marked and somewhat rigid
features of the Scots,
The large steamer having at length arrived, we
embarked upon Lough Derg, a noble sheet of water,
diversified with bays and reaches, the banks, gene
rally speaking, highly cultivated, and sloping to
the water's edge, with dark hills for the background.
Here and there the eye was attracted by a villa, or
a ruin, on the shore, or a green smooth island in
the middle of the waste of waters. Upon the whole,
the scene reminded me more of an inlet of the sea
than of an inland lake ; although, perhaps, this
effect was in part produced by the wind, which blew
with some violence full in our face. The clouds
rushed and darkened, the waves rose and broke,
and the vessel pitched and rolled ; and, in short, it
was a very respectable imitation of the sea in a
smart breeze. A passenger landed in the Bay of
Scariff, where the lake is at its greatest width ; and

192 IRELAND.
it will give the reader some idea of the real magni
tude of the commotion, when I say that the boat, as
it receded, disappeared frequently between the
waves. Holy Island, with its round tower and
ruins, in Scariff Bay, is not remarkably pic
turesque. Hitherto whatever of grandeur the picture exhi
bited was produced by the mere extent of the water;
but, as we approached the further end, this was as
sisted by the magnitude of the hills which form the
termination of the view. It was now almost dark,
and the massive forms of this end of the vista re
minded me of some of the Scottish lakes. After
emerging from Lough Derg I landed at Killaloe,
and took up my quarters there for the night. The
town is well situated on ground rising from the
river, and is becoming an important place as the
centre from which the efforts are directed of the In
land Steam Navigation Company. In the engraving
is given a charming daylight view of this place,
with its bridge of nineteen arches, connecting the
two counties of Clare and Tipperary.
The ordinary traveller may either proceed to
Limerick by a canal, or by the river ; but the pic
turesque traveller has no choice. The river from
Killaloe to Limerick is among the finest things in
Ireland, Here you have green and sloping banks 
there islands like emeralds set in silver — beyond,
magnificent woods that fling their shadow over the
stream — and, finest of all, the rushing, roaring.

Q^'6.^.f-.i'y/'t<'y-<-

yyLz^/Z'Tt^n/

Ciwray UsTi:.

RAPIDS OF THE SHANNON. 193
foaming rapids of the Shannon. Within this
trifling space there is every thing which, in natural
scenery, can amuse, excite, soften, or astonish.
The Rapids will not disappoint the traveller, as wa
terfalls usually do, which his imagination pictures
as something colossal both in height and volume.
The word rapids gives the idea of a torrent rushing
over a sloping bed of rocks ; and the rapids of the
Shannon are a mass of water, the magnitude of
which may be conceived when it is stated that the
river, just before they commence, is forty feet deep,
and three hundred yards wide. The descent con
tinues for half a mile ; and, during that space, the
foaming waters present, at every step, some new and
fantastic combination.
At the commencement of the rapids is the pretty
village of Castle Connell, forming an interesting
feature in a majestic woodland scene, that would be
still more majestic but for its association with seats
and villas, whose patrician heads are seen rising
here and there over the trees.
The castle from which the village derives its
name was the seat of the O'Briens, kings of Mun
ster ; and here the grandson of Brien Boru was
murdered, under those circumstances of treachery
which so frequently excite at once horror and dis
dain in the reader of Irish history. The Prince of
Thomond, leaving his followers on the other side of
the Shannon, threw himself upon the hospitaHty of
Castle Connell, and was received by its master

194 IRELAND,
with generous confidence. In the night-time the
scoundrel- guest admitted his soldiers into the strong
hold, and slew his entertainer, after putting out his
eyes. In later times the castle was the scene of
many other adventures more deserving the name of
warlike ; till at length, having held out for King
James, it was taken by General Ginkle, after a
siege of two days, and dismantled, and blown up.
The explosion was so great, that it is said to have
broken the windows of Limerick, six miles off.
The road from this place to Limerick — for it is
impossible, on account of the Rapids, to go by the
river — is extremely fine ; and the rich woods which
every where meet the eye, give, in modern Ireland,
quite an original air to the landscape.

CHAPTER XIV.

Limerick and its Three Quarters — Inhabitants — Female beauty —
Cathohc Churches in Ireland — Influence of the Priests — Clergymen —
Learning of the Priesthood — Anecdote — The Poor of Limerick —
Colloquy with the Rich and the Idle — Difficulty in working Miracles
— Projected Workhouses — Opposition of Mr. O'Connell.

Limerick is divided into three towns, each of
which, both in moral and physical character, is as
distinct from the others as if a continent lay between
them. They are called English Town, Irish Town,
and Newtown Pery, English Town, formerly the
best portion, contains the cathedral and the castle,
the latter a fine old ruin almost concealed by the
mean houses built against its walls. Here, of
course, were at one period the city officers and the
wealthy population ; but, deserted by these, its
huge and tall buildings afford retreats for the poor
and the depraved. It might be likened, in some
o2

196 IRELAND.
respects, to the old town of Edinburgh ; but it has
nothing of the business and bustle which distin
guish the ancient Scottish metropolis. It is cut off
from intimate association with the other parts of
the town by a canal, which converts it into an
island ; and thus, although an integral portion of a
busy city, it has the solitary and secluded look of
some of the old Italian towns.
Irish Town, at one time the abode of the " mere
Irish," so called in contradistinction to their
masters, has not suffered by desertion. On the
contrary, in the progress of time and civilization,
it has waxed abundantly ; and, as the population of
the whole city increased, its shops and stalls became
more numerous — for here is transacted the business
of the lower classes, both of the town and neigh
bourhood. The streets are full of traffic ; the bustle
is constant from morning till night ; and, if the busi
ness of supplying the necessaries and luxuries of the
poor does not appear magnificent in detail, it is at
least of some importance in the aggregate. Whis
ky is, of course, the grand luxury, and the houses
which retail it do not seem to thrive the less for
not presenting, in their architecture, like the gin-
shops of London, the caricature of a Greek temple.
The next luxury, in the magnitude of the supply,
appears to be apples. The quantities of this agree
able and wholesome fruit which I saw exposed for
sale in the streets here, and in other towns, are be
yond any thing of the kind I ever witnessed in other

LIMERICK.

197

countries. The price cried in Limerick was twenty
a penny. Newtown contains the quays, the storehouses, the
great shops, and the dwellings of the more affluent.
It consists chiefly of one very long, and very wide
range of street, with short diverging ones, and a
square now in progress, with a monument to Mr.
Spring Rice in the centre of its enclosure, which
is laid out in walks, like the squares of London.
The houses of the principal streets are like those of
Belfast, nothing more than right-angled brick
boxes, without any pretensions to architectural
taste ; but the streets have a better effect than those
of Belfast, from the circumstance of the houses
being loftier, generally of four stories not including
the sunk area, but, owing to the loftiness of the
apartments, the height, I should think, of five sto
ries of a good London house. A few houses in the
new square I have mentioned are finished, and one
of them is let at £120 a year, the highest rent in
Limerick. Many of those, however, in the fashion
able part of the principal street are £100 a year.
The taxes amount to seven or eight per cent, on the
sum at which the houses are rated, which is here, as
elsewhere, below the real rent.
The city contains hardly any very wealthy
people ; few with incomes above a thousand pounds
a year, although many approaching that sum. But,
though the inhabitants, therefore, do not belong to
the class of those who would be called wealthy

198 IRELAND.
people in London, there is a great deal of pretension
in their way of living, and an air of fashion in their
appearance, which is not surpassed in Dublin. The
streets swarm with jaunting-cars; and this is not
surprising in a place where every body considers
himself entitled to the distinction of keeping one,
who possesses an income of £300 a year, or who
calculates on being able to spend that sum from the
profits of his trade. Almost every person of the
slightest pretensions to respectability keeps a man
servant ; and this can more easily be done since the
wages of such domestics rarely exceed £8 a year,
except in great houses, where sometimes £10 are
given. While talking of this portion of the community,
I must notice the reputation for female beauty en
joyed by Limerick for at least two centuries, I
have no hesitation in saying — important as the
topic is — that I think the reputation is justly en
joyed. I saw a much greater number of beautiful
faces, in proportion to the size of the town, than is
usual ; and even in the shops I think the average
is very high indeed. On a Sunday Limerick pre
sents a fair spectacle in every sense of the word ;
and the Catholic churches, not only of Limerick>
but of all Ireland, exhibit far more of the devotional
picturesque than you find in most countries of the
continent. On the continent, generally speaking, there are
no galleries. The whole of the worshippers, rich

CATHOLIC PRIESTHOOD. 199
and poor intermingled, are below, in the nave of
the church, and are usually seated on rude, rush-
bottomed chairs. In Ireland there are galleries,
laid out in pews, for the rich, and only the stone floor
below for the poor. Among the latter, in most parts
of the country, there is a separation of the sexes,
the men going to one side, and the women to the
other ; all kneel, for there are no chairs to sit upon ;
and the only difference observable among them is,
that some spread their handkerchiefs under their
knees. Occasionally, however, a votary of a higher
class is seen in the same devotional attitude, either
engaged in the sacramental ceremonies, or paying
her homage to the Virgin, An instance of the
latter is annexed, produced by Mr. M'Clise.
While mentioning the churches, let me say a
word on the subject of the priests. That the in
fluence of the Catholic priesthood in Ireland is
rapidly diminishing, I could bring forward satis
factory evidence to prove, had I thought it worth
while making minutes of the information I received
on the subject in passing along. This is one of
the most favourable circumstances I know, as re
gards the civilization of the country; for, from
whatever cause it may proceed, the Irish, while in
the hands of the priests, have made no progress
whatever, social, moral, or intellectual, I do not
accuse the priests : — I merely state a fact which the
most zealous Catholic in the country cannot con
trovert.

200 IRELAND.
Yet the position of the priests with the majority
of their flock, affords them very high advantages.
The very nature of their emoluments involves the
necessity for constant intercourse. Besides the
Christmas and Easter dues, which may be said to
be the stipend they receive for instructing, cate
chising, and confessing, the priest has his fee for
marriages, christenings, funerals, and masses. In
some places it is the custom for the more easy in
circumstances to send him a certain quantity of hay
and oats, and for others to cut his turf, mow his
grass, and reap his corn. The priest and the flock
are of the same rank of life ; and, with the excep
tion of theological learning, the former receives no
education which could unfit him, by its artificial
refinement, for the most intimate association with
his parishioners. This association, in fact, does
take place — and what is the result ? As a means of
civilizing the people, the Catholic church in Ire
land has been an utter failure ; its priests have
contented themselves with bringing up their flocks
in blind and ignorant belief, without an attempt to
expand their intellect, or extend their knowledge ;
and at this moment, although well aware of their
real and dreadful wants, they use such influence as
they possess in stirring up the miserable creatures
to a political agitation which has no reference what
ever to these wants. A political priest, of any de
nomination, is the most odious and mischievous of
all animals— and, even if found in religious Scot-

CLERGYMEN. 201
land, he should be swept out of the temple he pro
fanes, as with a besom ; but what shall we say of
him in Ireland, where the claims of God and nature
upon his time and zeal are so numerous and so
urgent ? I do not venture to affirm that the dimin
ished influence of the priesthood in Ireland is an
evidence of the increased progress of education ; but
I do say that henceforward the one will be found
to go on in an exact ratio with the other.
As for the protestant clergymen, on the other hand,
they are in general gentlemen. They do not seek
association with the ragged and filthy inmates of
the hut. They mind their farms; exchange dinners
with their respectable neighbours ; lead regular
lives ; and die with the reputation of having per
formed worthily the duties of Christian priests.
The presence of such men, with their families, is,
doubtless a great advantage to the country. They
set a good moral and farming example, and spend a
decent income in the district.
The learning of the priests, I have hinted, is
purely theological ; and so are their manners. The
habits of a secluded student engrafted on the
rudeness of a clown, are not very attractive ; and
perhaps this is the true reason why the priests mingle
but little in good society, even of their own religious
persuasion. However this may be, their learning
itself seems to have greatly declined in modern
times ; a fact which, independently of other proof,
is pleasantly illustrated by an anecdote related of

202 IRELAND,
the priory of Mungret, within the liberties of Lim
erick. A deputation, it seems, was sent from the
College of Cashel, to try the skill of the Mungret
scholars in the dead languages ; and the monks
were thrown into some alarm lest any thing might
happen to injure the reputation they had so long
enjoyed. After consulting together, they dressed
some of their most accomplished pupils like peasant
girls, and sending them out, one by one, desired
them to reply in Latin to any question that might
be put to them. One of them speedily fell in with
the Cashel professors, who, on asking the distance
to Mungret, were startled by receiving the reply in
a dead language. This happened again, and again,
and again ; and at length the holy fathers deter
mined not to venture upon any examination of pro
fessors in a district where even the peasant girls
spoke Latin, and turning hastily round, made their
way back to Cashel,
I have talked of the trade, the wealth, the beauty
of Limerick — in fact, of the outside; and that is all
which is likely to catch the eye of the cursory
visitor, and all which he careS to examine. We
have seen that there are numerous individuals en
joying an income of nearly a thousand pounds a
year ; and that there is abundance of genteel equi
pages, good houses, and handsome women. Like
the Diable Boiteux, we have unroofed the city of
the busy, the gay, and the fair ; and, like him, have
left closely covered up the abodes of hunger and

POOR OF LIMERICK. 203
destitution. Limerick however, has not, like other
great towns, merely the mixture of poverty and
wealth found in all the crowded haunts of mankind.
Limerick, in a word, is not a town of Europe, or
Asia, or Africa, or America : it is an Irish town.
If I had contented myself with traversing New
town, and the principal thoroughfares of English-
town, and Irishtown, I should have pursued my
journey with favourable impressions of the condition
and character of the inhabitants. Then I should have
seen only a fair intermixture (for an Irish town) of
rags with embroidery, of hovels with houses, of con
cave and convex cheeks. Then I should have been
as much amused as pained — may God forgive me
for the hardness of heart ! — by the absurd devices
occasionally detected for appearing to cover the
body with raiment — by the transformation of women
into men, and men into women, and children into
either. But, unhappily, I would needs calculate
that the crowds I saw could be only specimens of a
few thousands of the inhabitants; and I would
needs diverge from the great thoroughfares of busi
ness and pleasure, to plunge into the lanes, and
alleys, and courts, for the purpose of looking at the
remaining classes. Now, I have frequently, in the
course of this volume and the preceding one, tested
the endurance of my readers, by carrying them into
discussions which, in the bygone age of dandies
and dandisettes, would have inspired either con
tempt or dismay ; but here I will spare them and

204 IRELAND.
myself. I cannot, and dare not if I could, describe
the horrors of Limerick destitution. Their existence
is alone sufficient to blast the character of Great
Britain in civilized Europe, and to all succeeding
ages. Mr. Inglis, after giving a few instances of what
he saw himself, observes, that with such scenes
before him, it did seem to be an insult to humanity
and common sense to doubt the necessity for a legal
provision for the Irish poor. But, unfortunately,
the individuals who doubt this never had such
scenes before them. Their argument is this : "The
destitute in Ireland are either those who cannot get
employment, or those who are too unwell to labour.
All we have to do, therefore, is to provide work for
the idle, and erect hospitals for the sick." Can
any thing be fairer ? Can any thing seem more
consistent with reason ? Very well : let us create
employment ; let us build hospitals. And now, let
us go into the recesses of Limerick to work miracles.
" Ho, ye sick ! Come forth and be made well."
And the sick come forth, or are carried forth, and
are sent straightway to the hospitals.
" Ho, ye idle ! Come forth, for here is employ
ment." And the idle come forth, and begin to
work joyfully. But still the cries of hunger, and
the moans of helplessness are heard issuing from
the damp cellars of Limerick. What is this ?
Have they not heard our proclamation ? Bring
them all out. There is one before us who, from

MIRACLE-WORKING. 205
the number of his fellows, may be taken to repre
sent a class.
*' Why do you not go to the hospital ?"
" Because I am not sick."
" Why do you not work ?"
" Because I cannot."
" Of what do you complain ?"
" Of hunger, which, from long continuance, has
taken away my strength. I have no sickness, yet I
cannot work till I get well. This cotton rag,
which was once a part of my wife's gown, is all I
have for clothes in the world,"
" Is this your wife ? Tell us, woman, why you
do not work,"
" Do you not see my two infants, both tugging at
the same moment at my exhausted breasts ? What
can such as I do to your railways and canals ?"
" But we have employments more fit for your
sex and feebleness,"
" Then you must send me to school to learn
them ; for I guess your manufactories will not pay
unprofitable servants, I never learnt to work ex
cept in the fields," But the colloquy is interrupted
by a disturbance, A man has thrown down his
spade, and refuses to continue his task,
" Of what is it you complain ?"
" Of having too much to do,"
" You are an idle, ungrateful reprobate."
" I am just half of that, and always was, I have
been idle all my life, and have never dared even to

206 IRELAND.
hope for full employment. I have lounged about
the streets, and basked in the sun, from my child
hood up ; and I would still be contented, if it could
still be obtained, with the handful of dry potatoes
earned every now and then by a little start of
labour. But, God bless you, do not think me un
grateful ! I am sure you mean well ; but you do
not know us. There are some among us, as you
see, who labour like horses ; but what are those to
do who have the habits of a life-time to conquer
before they set to in earnest ? You discharge me
because I cannot work like the rest. Very well, I
must go back and starve in my cellar : but do not
you, with all your piety, expect to perform miracles
in Ireland."
It may be inquired, whether I mean that work
houses should be established for the support of the
idle ; and I reply, that they should be established
for the purpose of putting down idleness. Until
then, beggary, that grand evil of Ireland, cannot
be repressed, for you must give the beggar an alter
native. The alternative cannot be employment,
for in that case the beggar would not, and perhaps
could not, work hard enough to earn his subsistence.
There must be something to fall back upon in all
emergencies. There must be a workhouse ; and
that workhouse must be on such a principle as to
render it an efficient test of destitution,
I have talked, on several occasions, with some
doubt as to the utility of Mr. O'Connell's schemes ;

POOR LAW PROJECT, 207
but this must be considered entirely with reference
to the concerns of the peasants. This is not a poli
tical work ; and, without sufficient elbow-room for
argument, I would pass no opinion, favourable or
unfavourable, on merely political questions. This
I may say, however, that the Poor Law project —
opposed by Mr. O'Connell — is the only great mea
sure which has hitherto been brought forward, for
even the ostensible purpose of benefiting proxi
mately the mass of the Irish nation.

CHAPTER XV,

Revolution in Manners — Progress of Democracy — History of the
Struggle — Proofs — Sir Francis Burdett and Mr. O'Connell — Degra
dation of Literature — Convergence of the two extremes of Society —
A dream of the Future — The Crisis — Impossibility of Revolution in
England — Delenda est Carthago.

Another subject, not exclusively connected with
Ireland, cannot fail to be suggested by the name of
O'Connell : I mean the personal abuse in which he
deals so largely himself, and which is so liberally
bestowed upon him by others. It is a pretty general
opinion, that there is a certain coarseness of cha
racter about the great Agitator which makes him a
fit target for such unsavoury missiles, and that in
his own parts of speech there is a peculiar " well of
English " — not " undefiled." This is the opinion,
however, of persons who are capable of seeing only
a single object at the same time, and who have not
the advantage of being able to examine it in its as-

BLACKGUARDISM OF THE DAY. 209
sociation with the surrounding context. The pecu
liarity alluded to is the peculiarity of the epoch ;
and, if Mr. O'Connell shares in it to a greater ex
tent than others, it is simply because he puts him
self forward as the prominent Irishman of his day,
I am old enough to remember, and to be able to
trace distinctly, a mighty revolution in manners,
which has already effected great changes in the
world of society, without its denizens knowing any
thing about the matter. We are in the habit of
referring the coarseness — some would say black
guardism — which pervades the public assemblies of
the present day, to political excitement — to the cha
racter of the individuals — to the peculiar circum
stances of the meeting — to any thing, in short,
rather than its true cause. We ought to remember,
however, in the first place, that a thousand parallel
cases must have occurred before, in which no such
characteristic was observable ; and, in the second
place, that the characteristic is not confined to one,
or two, or three cases, but belongs to the great
majority. At political meetings — at public dinners
— in the House of Commons — in the House of
Lords — language is now habitually used, and habi
tually tolerated, which not a great many years ago
would have produced duels and arrests without
number. In the newspapers, the most faithful
mirrors of the public mind in a free country, we
find a coarseness and hardiness of scurrility which is
altogether without parallel in the civilized world.

210 IRELAND.
This is, to a certain degree, the necessary atten
dant of the progress now making so rapidly by
England towards democratical forms and feelings.
Already the business of parliament is in a great
measure transacted out of doors ; and the audience
of the orator is not a few hundred gentlemen, but
the nation at large — of which the overwhelming
majority consists, as elsewhere, of the lower orders
of society. In this state of things, one of the most
important component parts of eloquence must be
strength of language, and strength of language
must be inseparable from coarseness of expression.
Some persons may deny, as I have heard them deny,
the necessity of coarseness, and say that reason is
the one thing needful ; but such persons have either
not mixed, as 1 have done, with the classes referred
to, or else they are mere sycophants of the majesty
of the People, and therefore not worth an answer.
Be it remembered, that we are as yet neither a pure
and complete democracy nor its opposite. We are
at this moment in a state of transition, in the midst
of a war of opinion so equally matched, that, with
out a knowledge of the history of the struggle, it
would be impossible to predict the event.
The history of the struggle is not so surprising as
one would be inclined to think at first sight. Men
did not rise up at once, with a spring, and a roar,
like those of wild beasts, to fix their sacrilegious
grasp upon the things which time had rendered
venerable, and which custom seemed to have made

MORAL REVOLUTION. 211
indispensable. The actual assault, it is true, was
somewhat sudden ; but the predisposing causes had
been long in operation, and there were few reflect
ing minds that did not foresee clearly what was
coming. During a war of twenty years, the
bayonet was the grand censor of the press and the
tongue ; but it could not arrest the progress of
public opinion, however it might check its expres
sion. The current of thought still rolled on, al
though below the surface.
We were at that time shut up in our prison-
island from the rest of Europe, grappling in the
dark with our own prejudices, and thus stamping a
character upon the struggle of mind purely and
essentially English. The passion for money, the
idiot admiration of mere rank, the pitiful obsequi
ousness to fashion — all essential parts of the national
character, and, comparatively speaking, unknown
in most other countries, except as subjects for rail
lery and derision — these were the chief moral bar
riers that stood in our way. The malcontents who
raised their voices the loudest, were those who had
the least to do with wealth, title, or politeness.
They had " no stake in the country ;" they were
called plain John, or Peter ; they were vulgar per
sons. Contumelious names were invented for
them, as in the days of the Cavaliers. Respectable
men, who had the misfortune to think that the
political ought to keep pace with the moral machine,
or, in other words, that a new era, a new generation,
p 2

212 IRELAND.
a new state of advancement in education and know
ledge, required new modifications of the details of
government, either shut up their heresies in their
own bosom, or sacrificed their station in society for
the sake of promulgating and defending them.
When Europe was sufficiently well drained of
blood and money, and the nations could no longer
afford to fight, they made peace ; offering solemnly
up together a holocaust of victims, and sending off
one scape-goat to the wilderness of ocean, with the
sins of a dozen kings upon his head. The battle of
Waterloo operated upon public opinion in England
like the opening of a valve in a steam-engine. It
did not create the magnificent power which became
manifest : but it permitted its explosion. Voice
after voice arose amidst the silence of peace, till the
sound was echoed over the whole country. What
before had been called revolution was now reform ;
and respectable men, afraid no longer of losing
their respectability, crowded to its standard. In a
singularly short space of time, the grand and inter
esting spectacle was offered to the world, of political
demands which, but a very few years before, would
have been answered with the dungeon or the gib
bet, receiving the solemn sanction of the legislature,
and passing into the laws of the country.
Even were the progress of Democracy not at
tested by legislative enactments, it would receive
abundant confirmation from the state of manners
alluded to. The Tories are now what once might

BURDETT AND o'cONNELL. 213
have been called conservative whigs ; the whigs,
radicals ; and the radicals have found in the hitherto
lowest deep a lower still. But all these deno
minations are, in language and external deport
ment, very nearly the same, A man of genius,
who is himself a lord, is said to have called the
House of Peers, to their faces, a mob ; and the ex
pression was not only conformable to the spirit of
the age, but absolutely true in itself. Why should
there not be a mob of lords as well as of commons ?
There may be, and there no doubt is, a portion of
the peerage, as of other classes, composed of good
and sensible men ; but the attributes of its mob are
identical with those of other mobs, namely, igno
rance, prejudice, and headlong presumption.
It was a fine spectacle, to see Sir Francis Bur
dett rising from the political siesta in which he had
so long indulged, to denounce the vulgarity of
Daniel O'Connell ! Sir Francis was the champion
of freedom before the name of the Agitator had ever
been heard, I remember, when a young lad, my
pen knives and cotton pocket-handkerchiefs were
inscribed, in characters indestructible except with
the fabric of the articles, " Burdett and Liberty !"
Sir Francis, however, was not only the champion
but the patron of reform. He devoted himself to
the cause, when such devotion on the part of a man
of rank was esteemed a condescension ; and thus
the habits of the gentleman were rather strengthened
than destroyed by the feelings of the democrat. In

214 IRELAND.
all his noon of fame, I never felt a higher and more
affectionate respect for him than when he called
upon the club at Brookes's to eject O'Connell from
their body, as a man unfit to associate with persons
of honour. My respect, however, was of that kind
which we bestow upon poetical characters, whose
feelings, however high and beautiful in themselves,
are not exactly calculated for the meridian of
our own times ; and it did not hinder me from
joining in the general smile provoked by the uncon
scious Irishman's reply.
The change I have mentioned, it must be ob
served, has not taken place in a single taste, but in
all. Literature itself is pervaded by the coarseness
of the time. The most successful works are works
of fun and drollery — the broader the more success
ful ; and on the stage Jim Crow fills the boxes
better than Hamlet, The time has gone by when,
retiring from this working-day world, we dreamed
away our idle hours in the bowers of Poetry and
her sister Romance, I believe I am correct in
stating, that from the publication of Mr, Bulwer's
noble story of " Rienzi " inclusive, up to the pre
sent moment, not a single work of imagination,
with the exception of those which have coarse
humour for their basis, has paid its expenses. This
has no doubt been partly caused by the impolicy of
the trade, in teaching the public, and the circu
lating libraries, that instead of paying a guinea
and a half for ephemeral books on their first

MECHANICS. 215
appearance, they may obtain, by waiting a reason
able time, a reprint of such as prove to be worth
buying, for four or five shillings. Still it cannot
be denied that the taste for such luxuries of the
fancy has declined, and that, at least for the
present, the poet's and novel writer's occupation
is gone. But while, in this state of moral revolution, the
upper classes are sinking to the tastes and habits
of the lower, what is the nature of the change
operating upon the latter ? The change, however
mighty and magnificent in itself, however big with
important results not only to England but to the
world, is as yet hardly observable in public man
ners. Even the mechanic — and he belongs no doubt
to a class which is still comparatively small —
who, instead of retiring from the labours of the day to
the public-house, betakes himself to his humble room
to devour the cheap literature which is on all sides
presented to him, exhibits but little alteration in
his deportment and language. His external cha
racter retains in a great measure the colouring it
originally imbibed from his station in society.
Swallowed up in a crowd of uninformed beings ;
engaged in the daily conflict of opinions and pre
judices — for all in this class are political zealots —
he is still generally speaking rude, presumptuous,
and intolerant. But give him a little time, give
him only a few years for the development of the
mental energies which have been fairly awakened ;

216 IRELAND.
let the proselytism of science, and general know
ledge, go on at its present rate, till it comprehends,
as it assuredly will comprehend, a majority of the
working classes — and then see what will be the
result! At this moment the whole country is
teeming with societies of mechanics, instituted for
the purpose of communicating and acquiring know
ledge ; the workshops resound with disputes on
subjects of science, literature, and legislation ; every
tap-room has its newspaper, in general read aloud
to the company ; the streets of London swarm with
dark and dingy coffee-houses, into which a respect
able person would hardly venture even out of
curiosity, but where the labouring man, in addition
to his insipid beverage, has books of reference at
command, and not only the political journals, but
the elegant, as well as useful periodicals.
A corresponding change is visible in the educa
tion of the upper classes, otherwise the convergence
of the extremes of society, in point of useful know
ledge, would take place much earlier. Children's
books are all of a more practical nature than here
tofore ; and I frequently meet with little boys and
girls who are able to puzzle their papa in matters
relating to the details of history and geography.
In other branches, such as astronomy, chemistry,
and botany, the present generation is vastly better
informed than the last ; while it is rare to find a
child altogether ignorant of the processes of the
more interesting arts.

DEMOCRACY. 217
While this convergence is going on, the coarse
ness of the present day will gradually disappear,
for it is the property of knowledge to refine as well
as to enlighten. The lower classes, or in other
words, the great majority of the nation, whose
influence is at present felt in the decline of gentle
manly courtesy, will force the upper, unable to
maintain their superiority on an equal field, to seek
a vantage ground in good-breeding and the polite
accomplishments. The character of the entire
people will thus be raised far above its level of
to-day, while the same apparent inequalities will
continue to exist on the surface of society. At that
epoch, and not till then, the crisis will arrive,
the instantaneous coming of which has been dinned
into our ears as long as I can remember — a crisis
which some politicians of our day are endeavour
ing, with as much folly as wickedness, to bring on
before its time. At that epoch, there will flourish
in this country a pure democracy.
But start not, reader, at the word, A democracy
is not an anarchy, but a popular government, or
a government adapted to the condition, and kept
in motion by the united intelligence, of the nation
at large, I see nothing in the idea of a democracy
inconsistent with the form of royalty which subsists
in these realms, I see nothing in the idea of a
democracy inconsistent with hereditary nobility.
It seems to me to be not more inconsistent with
reason that a child should succeed to his father's

218 IRELAND.
title than that he should inherit his land, or money,
or anything else which gives him an advantage
over his fellows, and is not injurious to the com
monweal. A limited authority like that vested
in the Queen of England is not only reconcileable
with a democracy, but would derive its surest gua
rantee from being surrounded with popular insti
tutions. But all this is only a dream of the future. If
the advocates of universal suffrage are really ac
quainted with the almost brutish ignorance which
still pervades a very great portion of the lower
classes of the country, I think they must be insane.
But the charitable supposition is, that. the friends
of such wild doctrines are mere theorists who know
nothing about the formation of society in any other
grade than their own. The schoolmaster is your
true revolutionist. He does not bawl, or curse, or
struggle, or grasp at impossibilities. He pursues
his calling in silence — working with the very stuff
which the human mind is made of, and working,
therefore, towards a result which, however dis
tant, is absolutely certain. The Schoolmaster is
the hero of the age, whose deeds, if historians were
philosophers, would far outvie in splendour those
of Wellington or Napoleon.
" The crisis is coming !" has been the cry ever
since I can recollect — " Our destruction, or salva
tion, depends upon this instant !" What puerility !
What is there in this country which seems to indi-

OUR ARK. 219
cate anything fragile or insecure ? If we are in
capable of understanding history, have we not at
least eyes to see, and ears to hear, what is passing
in our own time ? Our institutions present an
image of the stability of nature — of change with
out destruction — such as it is impossible to find
elsewhere in the world. All things, good and bad
in themselves, wholesome and noxious, work toge
ther for the preservation of our charmed life.
Anchored in the serenest depths of the ocean, the
winds howl wildly around us, and the waves dash
their spray over our heads, but our ark still rides
lonely, proudly, and unmoved.
While the national character remains the same,
no revolutionary change, in the popular meaning
of the word, can ever take place in this country.
A political spasm may convulse us for a moment,
but it can produce no permanent effect. When we
talk of the Reform Bill, or the Catholic Emancipa
tion bill, or any other bill, being revolutionary, we
talk nonsense ; for we are aware that all these were
slowly and reluctantly granted to the spirit of the
age. We do not legislate here in the spasmodic
manner of the French. We do not make a consti
tution, or pull it to pieces, in a fit of enthusiasm.
When any great public measure is proposed, the
struggle of principles commences, and goes fiercely
on, perhaps for years ; till it is at length terminated
not by the rout, but by the retreat of one party,
who, unsubdued though beaten, fortify the passes

220 IRELAND.
in their march, and entrench themselves anew.
The lords of the present day evince a spirit worthy
of the barons of King John ; but, for all that, they
submit occasionally to the tide of circumstances.
Their own order is unchanged ; its foundations are
in history ; and their rights and dignities are a
patrimony descending to them like their estates.
The great body of the people, on the other hand,
are never in a state of rest ; they are subject to
perpetual change of condition, social, moral, and
intellectual. These two parties must be, and are,
political enemies ; and, in their enmity lies the
security of the country. If the nobility of France
had been, like ours, a wealthy and powerful body,
the foundations of society would not have been torn
up by the revolution. The change, demanded by
a new era and a new state of civilization, would
have proceeded there with that solemn, august, yet
energetic pace which, in all future ages, will make
the history of England the wonder and admiration
of mankind. In our country the lords are not only
wealthy and powerful in themselves, but the pres
tige which encompasses them is more deeply and
generally felt than in any other civilized country
in the world. The state of rest, besides, which
they advocate is associated in the minds of many
with ideas of safety ; and for this reason they are
joined by crowds of the timid on every indication
of haste, or rashness, on the other side, and derive
an accession of strength from the very energy of

EXTRAVAGANCE OF THE PRESS. 221
their adversaries. The balance, however, is only
apparently equal to us men of to-day, who
count votes in the houses of parliament to de
termine the strength of conservatism. Let us
bestow but one glance upon the history of the
country since the end of the war, and the advance
of democracy — be it for good or for bad — will
appear as steady and inevitable as that of the
tide. This, however, is only the view that is taken
in his closet by a solitary student unconnected
with either party. Very different are the specu
lations of partizans on both sides ! With some,
the lords are not a whit less terrible than the
dragons of romance, and it is the sacred duty of
every man to arm against them ; while with others,
the reformers are blood-thirsty sans-culottes, raven
ing about our fertile fields like beasts of prey.
But, notwithstanding the extravagance of the
journals, and the coarseness of their objurgations,
it is impossible for an Englishman not to look
upon them with pride, as the representatives of
the genius and knowledge of the middling
classes of the people. Their coarseness, as I
have already explained, is merely an incrustation
induced by circumstances, to be rubbed off by
other circumstances, but the metal is pure and
bright below, I have often thought that from
the leading articles of the newspapers alone a
selection might be made of literary mor(jeaux,

222 IRELAND.
whether lively or profound, worthy of any age
the world has yet seen.
This is another indication of the character of
our own time and nation, which of itself would
enable me to smile when I hear some frantic poli
tician cry out, "The crisis! the crisis!" Hun
dreds of years ago arose these sounds of warning
and alarm ; and hundreds of years hence they
will still be in their youth. Long, long may that
boding voice ring over the shores of these qijeenly
islands, " Delenda est Carthago !"

CHAPTER XVI.

The Shannon below Limerick— Tarbert to Tralee — Physiognomy and
Phrenology — O'Connell's Country — The Agitator and the Viceroy
— First View of Killarney — The Town and the Lake.

The most interesting route from Limerick to
Killarney is by the Shannon to Tarbert, thence to
Tralee, and thence through the Kerry highlands to
the lakes. On this occasion, however, I proceeded
by the more direct line, by Castle Island, In fact
the weather had become so bad that there was rarely
a possibility of seeing the country to advantage ;
and, as it was somewhat late in the season, I was
anxious to reach Killarney before the trees were too
much despoiled of the many-coloured leaves of
autumn. Being partially acquainted, however,
with the coast road, I may at least tell the reader
what there is to be seen.

224 IRELAND.
On leaving Limerick, the traveller will almost
immediately lose sight of the city ; but, by the
country houses which now and then present them
selves, and the highly-cultivated lands that line the
river, he will still feel that he is in the neighbour
hood of some great congregation of the human kind.
The scenery is as agreeable as sloping hills, and
verdant dales, with a noble stream running between,
can make it ; and he will imagine, or try to ima
gine, that the scenes of horror disclosed to him in
the city were nothing more than a dream. By and
by the river widens till it resembles a great lake ;
and, after several fine ruins have been passed on
either side, it suddenly opens into a little sea, Hke
Lough Derg, dotted with green islands, and bor
dered with woods and sloping hills. After crossing
this expanse, the banks approach again, although
not so closely but that they form a fine bay, with
Mount Shannon on the right, and the residence of
the Knight of Glyn on the left, Tarbert is little
more than a village ; but it stands in a finely wooded
bay, sheltered from the sea-blast : for although it
is still some distance to the embouchure of the
Shannon, this river already assumes the character
of an estuary of the sea.
From Tarbert to Tralee the journey is not inter
esting in its physical features ; although the curious
traveller will be struck by the difference observable
in the air and physiognomy of the people. The
tradition which bears that the sea-coast of Kerry

IBERIAN IRISH. 225
was peopled from Spain can hardly be erroneous,
since a confirmatory proof appears in almost every
face you see ; but still it must be allowed that there
is very little of the ancestral character observable in
the descendants of the Spanish colony. Mr, Inglis,
on this point, goes the length of fancying that he
could perceive the "remains of the old hidalgo
DIGNITY ; but he is mistaken. The Kerry peasant
has a dignity of his own, far better than that of all
the nobility in the world, — a dignity arising from
the sense of independence. There is no Spanish
laziness about him ; and, what is still better, no
Spanish flightiness. He works hard, and lives
sparingly ; and he goes forward to his task with
an energy of purpose altogether unknown to his
continental cousins. Let me add, that if he knew
anything about the Spaniards of to-day, he would
repudiate the connexion with indignation ; and, if
invited to lend his assistance either to the Queen's
party, or that of Carlos, he would reply — as I would
myself — " Let them alone. Draw a cordon mili-
taire round their degraded country, and let the
brutes cut each other's throats as they like,"
I have used the word " physiognomy,'' but per
haps the reader is a phrenologist. If so, he will
permit me to treat him to a lecture on Irish skulls,
taken from the Edinburgh Phrenological Journal.
I give it as a curiosity little honourable to my coun
trymen. It seems to me to be about the grossest
specimen of ignorant and impudent quackery that

226 IRELAND.
ever appeared in print ; but withal it is so laugh
able that even the Irish will feel it impossible to be
offended. " In the North of Ireland, so far as we observed,
the head very much resembles the Lowland Scotch,
which we regard as originally Saxon ; the coronal
surface (the seat of the moral sentiments) is broad,
the forehead moderately high, and the line before
the ear longer than that behind, while the base is
broad enough to give an ample, but not preponde
rating, developement of the animal propensities.
The size is considerable : out of thirty-five indivi
duals, between sixteen and forty years of age, ob
served in this district, we found thirty-two heads of
the form now described, and only three of the Tip
perary or native Irish shape, which we shall shortly
notice. In Dublin we w^ere forcibly struck with
the smallness of the head of the educated classes.
The general size was decidedly inferior to that of
the English and Scotch heads. We had not anti
cipated this fact ; and yet, after observing it, and
tracing the mental manifestations of the citizens of
Dublin, it appears completely to coincide with them.
We should like to know the average size of fine
hats sent by the London makers to Dublin ; we
anticipate that it is inferior to that of those sold in
London and Edinburgh, We desire also to know the
species of literary and philosophical works most in
demand for the Irish capital: we are told they are
of the Hghter description; such as are vivacious.

QUACK !  QUACK ! 227
but require little vigour or depth to comprehend
them, " In travelling westward, the genuine Irish head
appears in Kildare, and prevails in the other parts
of Leinster, and also in Munster ; it is long, and
narrow in proportion to the length ; and extends
far behind the ear, indicating great combativeness
and philoprogenitiveness. Benevolence is not de
ficient ; firmness and conscientiousness, especially
the latter, are very generally deficient. Cautious
ness is not large ; and secretiveness, although
frequently, is not usually predominant. Destruc-
tiveness is not as large as combativeness. In the
town of Cork, the heads of the lower classes are
pure Irish ; but those of the better rank are mixed.
We saw many of the form before mentioned as com
mon about Limerick — many of the English and
Scotch figure. Those of the court-houses and
theatre at Cork, presented heads decidedly larger
than those observed in Dublin, The great venera
tion of the Irish peasant leads him to worship the
Pope and the priests, just as the same faculty, un
directed by reason or revelation, prompts the
Egyptian to worship the crocodiles. Their small
conscientiousness gives a feeble check to lying and
deceit, which, by polluting the fountain of evidence,
renders law impotent, and the attainment of justice
nearly impracticable,
" We are disposed to ascribe the origin of the
calamities under which Ireland groans, partly to the
Q 2

228 IRELAND.
deficiency of the national brain. The native Irish
head indicates deficiency of reflective powers, strong
animal feelings, and ill-balanced moral sentiment.
Where such a people came into conflict with a race
more highly favoured than themselves, but not
under the influence of a perfect morality, (which
was the character of the English that subdued
them,) their inferiority would provoke insult, while
their animal feelings would kindle into a bitter but
impotent resentment. In thinking of Ireland, we
are apt to imagine the whole of it overwhelmned
with want and crime : this is not the case. In the
North, the people are intelligent, moral, and indus
trious ; this more pleasing condition is attributed
generally to the linen manufacture ; but we suspect
that the effect is here mistaken for the cause. The
developement is in them decidedly and palpably
superior to that which appears in the South ; so
much so, that any tyro in phrenology may distin
guish the races ; and, in our opinion, the linen
manufacture, and all the forms of industry and in
telligence, are the growth of higher moral and
intellectual powers."
Tralee, which is the county town of Kerry, is a
place of great respectability, both in appearance and
reality ; but there is nothing in it which will detain
the traveller longer than is necessary to gird up his
loins for his journey among the mountains. If he
wishes to see the remainder of the peninsula, at the
base of which Tralee stands, he will pass through

THE agitator's DOMAIN. 229
some of the finest highland scenery in Ireland.
From Dingle he may cross the bay, with a coast on
his left hand almost unequalled in the bold and
picturesque ; and on landing at Cahir-seveen, he
will find himself in a wild and desolate yet interest
ing spot, hemmed in by mountains, and with the sea
and the island of Valentia in front. This spot is in
the dominions of O'Connell ; and near the town an
old ruined house is pointed out as his birth-place.
The Agitator, in private life, is said to be a good,
liberal, hospitable man. Politics are banished from
his table, where men of all parties are received with
the same cordial warmth. Notwithstanding this,
he has more personal enemies than any other man
in Ireland ; a circumstance which appears to me to
imply a great want of that tact which should dis
tinguish a political leader. Lord Mulgrave, on the
other hand, although detested by certain party-
men for his politics, is rarely passed over, even by
them, without a good word. He has the art of in
gratiating himself as an individual, even while
offending as a public man, A friend of mine, whose
politics ran so high that he declined being instru
mental in giving the Viceroy a public dinner, would
cheerfully have bestowed three hundred and sixty-
five dinners in the year upon Lord Mulgrave. The
reason, no doubt, was that his lordship, instead of
boring the worthy provost with unwelcome topics,
walked through the town with him, commenting
on the number of pretty girls they passed. There

230 IRELAND.
is no doubt on my mind that Lord Mulgrave is the
best fitted for his post of all the men who ever
held it.
From Cahir-seveen the road proceeds along the
side of Dingle Bay, exhibiting, for some distance,
a portion of the coast scenery which appeared so
striking from the sea. As the traveller nears Kil
larney, passing through several mean villages, he
thinks he must have left the celebrated lakes be
hind, concealed from his view among the mountains ;
but at length the picturesque bursts again upon his
sight, in a character of majesty which makes it
something more than the picturesque.
This, I have mentioned, was not the route I chose
myself on the present occasion, — or was compelled
to choose. I proceeded almost in a straight line
from Limerick, along a route which, for the most
part, was dreary and uninteresting. Two or three
ruins of little note, and various miserable villages,
hardly improved the scene ; till at length, after
passing Castle-Island, the peaks of Mc GiUicuddy's
Reeks appeared above the horizon in the distance.
By degrees these mountains became distinctly visi
ble ; and by degrees the Lakes of Killarney un
folded themselves at the bottom. My first glimpse
of the water, however, was sudden. The road had
turned to the right, to traverse a wild and solitary
dell ; and in turning again, to resume our original
course, a portion of the Lower Lake, with its moun
tain boundaries, appeared at the end of a vista

- „ .^r/'///J-^-' .,_.

Ciy'lyy^^- "/'!^--fyZ//

KILLARNEY. 231
through the hills. Nothing could be finer than the
picture thus presented ; and it was viewed through
its best medium, the mellowed Hght of evening.
Killarney I found a disagreeable, mean looking,
little town ; and the principal inn was so bad that I
was compelled to change my quarters the next
morning. At the Hibernian I found myself greatly
more comfortable ; although it is a very inferior
house in appearance. The charges at both were
much too high ; and I think if some spirited person
were to establish a really good and moderate inn,
either in the town, or, which would be preferable,
nearer the lake, it would answer exceedingly well
as a speculation.
A description of the Lakes of Killarney ! In a
space like this it is impossible ; and, after so many
previous descriptions, it would not be desirable. I
shall content myself, therefore, with giving the
reader a general idea of the scene, and with endea
vouring to convey a few of my own impressions.
In the Guide Book he will find a sufficiently minute
account of all that is necessary to be known ; and
in Weld's Picturesque Views of Killarney, he will
travel under the guidance of a man of correct taste
and of an elegant mind.
Giving precedence to the arts, which, in a work
like the present, is not too great humility, I first
present him with the opposite view of a nook of
the Lower Lake, where he will find many of the
peculiarities for which Killarney is celebrated.

CHAPTER XVII.
Scene-painting with the pen and pencil — Situation of Killarney — Ross
Island — Killarney Echoes — The last Prince of the Lakes — Innis
fallen — ^The Arbutus Tree — Points of View — Gap of Dunloe, and
the Black Valley — Atmospheric Phenomena — Mucross — ^River to
the Upper Lake — Eagles' Nest — Killarney to Kinmare — Glengariff
— Bantry Bay — Blarney Castle.
" To convey to the fancy," says the author of
one of the earliest descriptions of Killarney, "a
lively representation of substantial, visible forms,
is deemed rather the province of the artist, who
speaks to the eye, than of the mere verbal de-
scriber. Yet so limited are the powers of the
pencil, that by it the same object can only be repre
sented in one moment of its existence, and under
a single point of view ; whereas description ranges
in a wider field — commands the several changes
which time, in its silent lapse, draws along with it
— exhibits things in all the different lights and
positions in which they can be viewed — discovers
new beauties in effects from revealing their causes

THE PEN AND THE PENCIL. 233
— traces under the mouldering ruin stately temples,
domes, and palaces, the monuments of a race of
mortals long forgotten— takes in an extent of
scenery which the unassisted eye loses, and the
pencil faintly pourtrays — and throws a mysterious
veil over every object, by allusions and details drawn
from the stores of history and fable —

"There Arthur lies, and there the Runic bard;
Here fell the hero ; there sad hollow anters,
That grove did hear his moan."

Such are the advantages of the pen over the
pencil ; but what are its disadvantages ? To de
scribe a scene in words, so as to present a picture to
the mind resembling the original, is impossible.
By means of words we may convey the idea of a
mountain, of a lofty mountain, of a rugged moun
tain ; but this shall not be the identical mountain
we wish to describe. Man can be' taught only by
experience ; and the most magnificent creations of
the poet are nothing more than fragments of
memory, heightened and gilded by imagination. A
man, for instance, who has never seen a mountain,
can conceive one, at the bidding of another, only
by magnifying the mole-hill which he has seen. If
a beautiful face be the theme, there arise straight
way before him, and blend into one intelligible

234

IRELAND.

portrait, the features of those on whom his heart
has doated in youth —
" The lov'd — the lost — the dead — too many — yet how few !"
Words, therefore, act like a spell, conjuring up
the spirits of the past, and bringing with them the
feehngs peculiar to the bygone time ; but it is evi
dent that their operation will not be alike in all,
since it must depend not so much upon them as
upon the character of the mind to which they are
addressed. To comprehend a poet, one must have
the spirit of poetry within him.
Another cause of the vagueness of description is,
that no two men ever see the same object alike.
Killarney is sublime to those who have never be
held grander scenery, while to others it is merely
beautiful. But the medium, too, through which
the view is taken is not merely the external atmo
sphere, but the predominant feeling, or humour, of
the mind at the moment; and thus an object is
frequent hailed with rapture by one man, from
which another turns away with disappointment and
disgust. How true, how beautiful, how philosophi
cal is the " Lover's Journey " of Crabbe — that poet
of human nature, whose spells become the" stronger
as they grow old, and whose verses continue to
haunt the ear after it has been forsaken by every
other touch of music !

LOCALITY OF THE LAKES. 235
May I not conclude that the pencil alone can
approximate to natural fidelity, while it is the pro
vince of the pen to diffuse over the picture so con
veyed an intellectual life? — that the pencil alone
can produce the object as it actually exists to the
eye, while the pen winds around it the associations
that connect the material world with the things
of the mind ?
I am not about to exemplify this, however, in
my notices of Killarney, The few remaining pages
I have at my disposal must be devoted to an
attempt to convey merely a general idea of the
picture ; and, in fact, the weather was such, during
my visit, that nothing more is in my power. It is
impossible to give an idea of rainy weather at
Killarney, The water does not leave the clouds —
it brings them down ; and you feel as if you were
looking at the most beautiful scene in nature
through a crape veil.
At Killarney which is situated nearly in the
centre of Kerry, commences a mountainous region
extending to the sea. In almost every valley there
is a lake ; and almost every mountain hollow, how
ever high its elevation, is filled with water. Add
to this, that the district is in general well wooded,
and that the elevations are frequently abrupt and
rugged, even to the grotesque, and you will under
stand at once that this part of Ireland must be the
very throne of the picturesque. The expanse of
water known by the name of the Lakes of Killar-

236

IRELAND.

ney, lies in a group of deep valleys, and forms a
reservoir for the streams and torrents of the neigh
bouring hills. The bed of the Upper Lake, indeed,
may be called a gulf, or chasm, rather than a val
ley ; and thus what is mere beauty in the Lower
Lake, acquires in the former a character of the
picturesque which is thought by some tourists to
border on the sublime, Turk Lake, on the other
hand, being only half embosomed in hills, but these
of a very majestic description, partakes of the cha
racteristics of the two others, Killarney, there
fore, is indebted to the variety it presents, still more
than to its individual features for the character it
enjoys. To allow the reader, who has never been on the
spot, to comprehend the locality, I should say that
the lower lakes would form a single one, but for a
narrow and jagged peninsula, and two small islands,
which permit the waters to meet only in a little
neck ; while the upper lake, at a distance of three
miles towards the south, pours its superabundance
into the others by a picturesque and tortuous
river. These again transmit their overflowings to
the ocean by the Laune, an impetuous stream
which issues from the northern angle of the lower
lake. Travellers usually embark upon the lower lake
from Ross island, the indented coast of which is
itself very beautiful. It is the largest in this
division of the lake, and has an old castle, de-

ECHO. 237
formed by a modern building which serves as a
barrack for a few soldiers. There is an echo on
this island, said to be the finest which the lakes of
Killarney afford ; the sound being distinctly re
peated from various points in the whole circle of
the lower lake.
Indeed the echo is not among the least of the
wonders of Killarney, In some places the sound
is returned by numerous mysterious voices with
great distinctness. Smith, in his Natural and Civil
History of Kerry, describes thus the discharge of
a cannon. " When the piece is first exploded,
there is no return of any particular sound for near
a minute ; but then a loud clap of thunder, which
lasts for several seconds, comes ; and, after a short
pause, a second, and so on for several repetitions ;
like volleys of small arms which are voluntarily
answered from the neighbouring mountains and
valleys, and at length die away with a noise
resembling that of the waves of the ocean beating
against a concave shore."
The echo of Killarney, therefore, is what Lord
Bacon calls an echo upon echo, or a reverberation
of the sound from different points, like the reflec
tion of an object in a mirror seen re-reflected in
another. The difficulty which the nymphs find
in pronouncing the letter S became known to this
philosopher, as he informs us, by the remark of
a Parisian, who was greatly edified by an echo at
Charenton. " If you call Satan," said he, " the

238 IRELAND.
echo will not deliver back the devil's name, but
will say, " Va-t'en." — begone— avaunt !
Ross castle was the seat of the last Prince of
the Lakes, O'Donahue ; to whom, as we see in
the CoUectania Hibernica the kings of Munster
paid for tribute ten dun horses, ten coats of
mail, and ten ships. For many years after this
hero's death his spirit was seen gliding over the
lake. It was mounted on a white horse, which is
still sometimes visible to the belated peasant in the
foam of the wave. The billows of Killarney indeed
are popular called O'Donahue's steeds.

" Of all the proud steeds that ever bore
Young plumed chiefs on sea or shore^
White steed, white steed, much joy to thee.
Who still, with the first young glance of spring.
From under that glorious lake dost bring,
Proud steed, proud steed, my love to me.

White, white as the sail some bark unfurls.
When newly launch'd, thy long mane curls,
Fair steed, fair steed, as white and free ;
And spirits, from all the lake's deep bowers.
Glide o'er the blue wave scattering ilowers.
Fair steed, around my love and thee.''

Such was the song, if a poet is to be believed,
sung by a young Irish maiden, who fell in love with
the visionary chieftain, and gave herself the death of
Ophelia.

INNISFALLEN. 239
Innisfallen, however, is the glory of the lake ;
for notwithstanding all that is said of the other
islands, they are little more than low uninviting
rocks. O'Donahue's Prison, however, should be
mentioned as an exception. It is about thirty
feet perpendicular from the surface of the water,
and is surmounted by foliage springing, as one
would suppose, from the bare stone.
A similar phenomenon indeed is presented in
many other parts of Killarney, by the mysterious ori
gin and existence of the plants with which the rocks
are covered, and which rise from the crevices of
the marble where there is hardly a grain of earth.
One would think that their nutriment must be
drawn almost entirely from water. Of these plants
many are of a very delicate kind, and some reach
the altitude they arrive at here only in southern
climes. Among others there are the service tree,
the vine, the arbutus, the lilac, the rose, the lau-
ristinus, and the cytisus,
Innisfallen is a perfect paradise of groves,
and bowers, and glades, and lawns ; in fact, nothing
I think can be conceived more richly beautiful.
Old authors mention that the island yields so
great a profusion of sweet herbage that the kine,
which are put into it to fatten, thrive so prodigi
ously, that their fat becomes a kind of rich mar
row in a very short time. It is added that this
marrow is too soft and delicate to make candles.
The arbutus tree was probably introduced here

240

IRELAND.

by the monks of Innisfallen although some authors
contend that it is indigenous. It is certainly a
great ornament and interest of the lake ; growing
from naked rocks, and flourishing in all its beauty
in the depth of vrinter. The arbutus is only a
shrub even in Italy, and it is not till you reach a
much warmer climate that you find it reach the
growth of a tree. Yet in Ireland we are informed
by Dr. Molyneux in the Philosophical Transactions,
it is frequently of four feet and a half in circum
ference, and thirty feet high. This tree, which is
called in the neighbourhood of the lake, the cane-
apple, presents at the same moment every variety
of vegetable colour. The verdant leaves, — the
blossoms, like clusters of white bells— the rose-
coloured stalk — the green — yellow — scarlet berries
all contribute to surprise and delight the eye.
The fruit of the arbutus is like a large straw
berry, but if eaten freely will produce — so say
the natives — a sort of lethargy, Pliny appears to
have formed also an indifferent opinion of its
wholesomeness, calling it unido, because only one
berry ought to be eaten at a time, Virgil, on the
other hand, describes it as the food of the earliest
inhabitants of the earth ; and Lucretius assigns it
a place with the acorn.
" Glandferans inter cerabant corpora quercus
Plerumque ; et quse nunc, hiberno tempore cernis,
Arbuta, poeniceo, fieri matura, colore,
Plurima, turn tellus, etiam majora, ferebat.''

.^-yz.^ oy^^ ^^^_yM€^9t^u:^^

Coufta/ Jia-ry.

GAP OF DUNLOE. 241
On the opposite side of the lake from Innisfallen,
the Tomies, and Glena mountains rise boldly from
the edge of the water ; but the visitor should walk
round rather than sail across. He will pass by
Aghadoe, where are the ruins of an abbey, the date
of which is unknown. The western, or great door
way, is the only interesting portion of the building
which remains ; and this resembles, both in form
and materials, that of the chapel at Innisfallen.
The view of the Lower Lake from Aghadoe is
worth a visit to Killarney of itself. Innisfallen and
the western clusters lie below you ; while the more
distant islands look like projecting points of the
land. On the right hand, lining the lake, are the
rugged steeps of Glena and Tomies, contrasted
with the smooth banks and sweUing hills on the
left ; and the picture is terminated by Turk and
Mangerton rising, huge and stately, behind the
peninsula of Mucross, The principal western view
is from Dunloe castle ; but from the east there are
numerous rival points. From the top of Turk
there is a bird's-eye view of the whole scene ; but
the effect of the parts is of course lost.
Pursuing his route from Aghadoe, the traveller in
search of the picturesque will proceed towards the
Gap of Dunloe, of which the description in the op
posite page is given by Mr. Creswick, and that
which follows by Mr. Weld,
"Amidst the vast mountainous regions on the
western side of the county Kerry, there is no scene
R

242 IRELAND.
which exhibits a more varied and sublime combina
tion of the bold features of uncultivated nature than
the Gap of Dunloe. By some terrific and mystical
operation, the chain of mountains, at this place,
seems to have been abruptly severed, and the
stupendous rocks of which it was formed rent
asunder, and dispersed in wild disorder through the
chasm. On the brow of the mountain which guards
the entrance, on the right hand, immense project
ing masses of stone, suspended in their lofty beds,
overhang the pass, threatening destruction to all
who approach this savage solitude ; and the vast
fractured stones, which are observable at the base of
the cliff, plainly indicate that the danger has not
always been imaginary. One almost shudders at
thinking of the horrible crash which must have
been produced by those ponderous stones.

' Tumbling all precipitate down dashed,
Rattling around, loud thundering to the moon ;

whilst the echoes, in the still retirement, repeated
the tremendous sound through the windings of the
vale." After passing the Gap, we come to the Dark
Valley, which is certainly one of the finest bits of
the picturesque about Killarney. A view is annexed
of this wild and desolate hollow, surrounded by its
dreary hills. As it was altogether impossible for

'^:^r/7i/?c^..' yjMa>^.' ¦ f^M^ \ ''''/>/M: AM/z-y:

Ttom^ tjt.: aaf of rJunlaa.

ATMOSPHERICAL PHENOMENON. 243
me to ascend those heights in such weather, I
should like again to make use of the pen of Mr,
Weld, but have now only room to refer the reader
to his elegant work.
In the weather in which I was so unfortunate as
to see Killarney, much of the beauty was of course
lost. The mountains were merely masses of sha
dow, without form or character ; and it was only a
transient gleam of light, now and then, which en
abled me to imagine their real effects. Weld,
however, gives an account of rather a curious phe
nomenon, arising from a different state of the atmo
sphere. " Occasionally," says he, " an effect is
produced by the setting of the sun on the range of
mountains bounding the lake, not less beautiful
than rare, and totally different from what I remem
ber to have seen in other mountainous countries ;
though doubtless, in particular situations, the same
appearance may result from the variations in the
atmosphere. I can only attempt to give an idea of
it by describing it as displaying the mountain in a
transparent state, and suffused with a hvely purple
hue. Varying, however, from the aerial aspect of
distant mountains, all the objects upon them, rocks,
woods, and even houses, are distinctly visible —
more so indeed than at noon- day ; whilst, at the
same time, their forms appear so unsubstantial,
so ethereal, that one might almost fancy it possible
to pass through them without resistance,"
Glena and Tomies mountains, which form nearly
r2

244 IRELAND.
one side of the lake— the side opposite to Ross
Island —present many exquisite points of view,
several beautiful bays, and a waterfall called O'Sul-
livan's Cascade, But since we must not linger over
individual objects, let me transport the reader at
once to the upper end of the lake on the opposite
side. In the demesne of Mucross, comprehending the
peninsula which separates the two lower lakes,
Turk Cottage is the best station for the tourist, who
has there the mountain of that name on the left,
with Glena in the distance, overtopping the hills on
the other side of the lake in front ; and close by
where he stands a cascade plunging down
from the heights above him. The peninsula, how
ever, being central, presents at almost every step a
new modification of the scene ; and it contains in
itself so much variety of character, that a very good
idea of Killarney may be obtained from it alone.
The Abbey is neither so picturesque nor so interest
ing as the traveller in general expects ; but when a
sudden vista is opened to it through the trees, the
effect is fine for the moment. The church was
about a hundred feet long, by a fourth part of this
extent in breadth ; but the cloisters are the most
entire portion of the buildings. It has been re
marked that the arches of this rookery of the
monks are of different kinds, one side of the clois
ters containing Gothic and the other side Saxon
arches. Weld attributes the incongruity to the

CLOISTERS OF MUCROSS. 245
dissensions of the architects ; but I think it may
with more reason be set down to the false taste of
the age.
The yew tree in the cloisters of Mucross is held
sacred by the natives ; and they relate a story of an
individual who inflicted a wound upon the bark,
and was instantly punished by a numbness, which
crept over the sacrilegious arm, and spread through
his whole frame till he fell down a corpse. The
cloisters are sufficiently dark to assist in producing
those ideas that are commonly associated with such
places ; but the gloomy vaults and passages in the
interior of the abbey go still farther. It is said that
two young ladies, who had thought proper to explore
for themselves, were struck with such terror that
they fainted away, and were with difficulty restored
to animation ; but this was doubtless caused as
much by the relics of mortality around them as by
the gloom of the place. The cemetery, which is
still a favourite burying place, being small, the
coffins are placed wherever there is room for them ;
and the consequence is that human bones are scat
tered every where around. In a passage leading to
the cloister, we are told by Weld, he once found
a head, " with a considerable part of the flesh of
the face, and nearly the entire hair upon it, literally
rolHng under foot." This familiarity with such
objects gives rise, as a matter of course, to the
most brute-like indifference on the part of the
neighbouring peasants ; and the individual who

246 IRELAND.
showed an acquaintance of mine round the place,
deliberately broke off with a stick the under jaw of a
skeleton (once a neighbour of his own, whose name
and history he was relating at the moment), and
put it into his pocket.
It was one of the superstitions of the neighbour
hood, that a " carbuncle " could be seen in fair
weather, at the bottom of the lower lake, in a spot
where the water is more than sixty fathoms deep.
What a, carbuncle was hke I could not learn,
Pliny describes it as being of a grass green, others
of a coal black colour, and others deny that it has
any existence at all.
But the peasantry may well be forgiven for re
lating marvels when the learned believe them. A
wonderful spring is mentioned by Giraldus Cam-
brensis, the water of which turns the head or beard
grey that is washed in it. This spring was in
Munster; but there was another, he says, in the
opposite province, Ulster, which had just the oppo
site quality, namely, the power of preventing the
hair from turning grey. There was one, also, in
Connaught, which was wholesome to the human
race, but poisonous to cattle ; and another, in the
same province, on the top of a mountain, which
ebbed and flowed twice a day, like the sea. All
these fountains, however, were eclipsed by one in
Munster, of a very peculiar virtue — or rather vice.
If any body so much as looked at its waters, it
presently began to rain in torrents all over the

Q^'^^t,

2W^ ,^y^-u<^i7a,^y. y^ - ''^''¦'^¦^¦<

C - ;,

Pa^joaiy c^ r.h^ Zakus Ku.-a^--

AWKWARD ADVENTURE. 247
province, and continued to do so, till mass was
said in a chapel near the spot, and the fountain
sprinkled with holy water, and the milk of a cow
of one colour. It was reflecting on these things
which caused Dr. Gerard Boate, the author of the
Natural History of Ireland, to doubt sorely
whether " that good man " (Giraldus Cambrensis)
" had not been deceived therein by his cre
dulity." The lower lake is separated from Turk lake by
the islands of Brickeen and Dinis ; on the latter of
which the visitor is recommended to land. Viewed
from this island, Turk mountain acquires the cha
racter observable in the annexed engraving.
In ascending the river which leads to the Upper
Lake, the first impediment is the Old Weir Bridge,
where the current is so rapid as to require consider
able effort to get up the boats. The passengers are
here obliged to land, in order to lighten their
vessel. But in coming down the stream the pas
sage is easy enough, provided one can hit it exactly.
Accidents, however, sometimes happen at this spot.
One is on record in which the actors were a white
and a black man. Their boat upset, and the black
man speedily found himself swimming in Turk lake,
while his white companion, having suffered more in
the descent, was cast ashore on Dinis island, and with
difficulty restored to animation. Above the bridge
the river is in general tranquil.

248 IRELAND.
After passing several httle islands ui the river, we
reach the Eagle's Nest.
" This remarkable rock," says a traveller of the
last century, "presents its principal part to the
north, and the river, making an abrupt turn,
passes directly under it. It has that bold freedom
in its general outline which sets at nought descrip
tion, and demands the pencil of Salvator himself
to express justly. From the ruggedness of its
impending cliffs, which almost overshadow the
river, it would be truly awful, if the trees
and shrubs which crown them did not counteract
the effect, by diffusing an air of festivity about the
whole, which strips it of its terrors. The parts of
it, considered singly, are beautiful; their strange
combinations produce surprise,"
From the Eagle's Nest, a continuous range of
mountain runs to the upper lake. On the oppo
site side of the river is the famous musical echo.
The Voice is supposed to reside in a hollow bay
of the steep, covered on all sides with trees.
Of the upper lake, I shall only say that in
addition to much of the beauty of the lower, it has
an air of grandeur peculiar to itself. It is closely
girded by lofty hills, which throw their shadow
upon the water, and there is something almost
awful in its still and solitary aspect. A charac
teristic portion of it is given in the annexed
engraving, the view taken from Rowan's islands,
with M'Gillicuddy's Reeks in front.

CHARM OF KILLARNEY. 249
One great charm of a scene like this is pointed
out with so much elegance of expression by the
anonymous author I have quoted at the com
mencement of the chapter that I shall be excused
for copying his words : " The effect of many of
these views is, in my opinion, much heightened by
the hourly revolutions in the face of the heavens.
The vast volume of clouds which are rolled toge
ther from the Atlantic, and rest on the summits
of the mountains, clothes them with majesty : the
different masses of light and shade, traversing the
lakes in succession, as the shifting bodies above
float over them, exhibit all the varieties of night
and day almost at the same instant : the mists
interposing their dull, yet transparent coverings
to the view, raise new desires of a fuller, and
clearer prospect : and the wandering vapours flitt
ing from chff to chff, as if in search of the clouds
from which they have been separated, amuse the
eye with their varieties, and irregular motions,"
It will perhaps be observed, upon the whole, that
the great charm of Killarney is variety. In many
other countries there are as lovely lakes, as pictur
esque islands, and much loftier mountains ; but
wherever these are found there is a unity of cha
racter in the scenery. We say that one place is
wild, another majestic, another beautiful, another
picturesque, another merely pretty, and nothing
more is required to describe the general aspect of
the spot; but in Killarney we find grouped together.

250 IRELAND.
within the circuit of a moderate day's walk, almost
every possible variety of the wild, the majestic, the
beautiful, the picturesque, and the merely pretty.
These beauties, too, are in themselves of the first
class. Nothing can be more exquisite than Innis
fallen — nothing more romantic than the walks of
Mucross — nothing more majestically beautiful than
the general aspect of the lower lake — nothing more
wildly grand than that of the upper. Mangerton,
a dark, dreary, rounded mass, owing to its compa
ratively colossal size, forms at a distance a striking
variety in the picture ; and when that distance is
lost " Which lends enchantment to the view,"

Turk, till then an insignificant hill, rears its steep
and threatening head from a seemingly pathless
forest, and flings its dark shadow, floating " many
a rood " on the lake. All these things, and many
more which I have no room to particularize, are
fine in themselves ; but it is their juxta-position,
their grouping, to which the scene owes its high re
putation. The mountains that separate Kerry from Cork,
particularly those called the Slievelogher, were
formerly, according to the Pacata Hibernia, be
lieved to be impassable ; but now, in addition to
the direct route to the southern capital, there is

MOUNTAIN PASSES. 251
a communication with the coast line, through the
barony of Glanerought to Kenmare. By this new
road I left Killarney; and as the car glided along
the hills, and through the valleys, disclosing at
every turn a new picture of the lakes, I had
reason to lament more and more the state of the
atmosphere, which was on this day, as it had been
for several preceding ones, an equal mixture of
air, water, and vapour. Even under these circum
stances, however, the ride, though tantalizing,
was more than merely agreeable. The mountain
passes we wandered through, exaggerated by the
medium through which they were seen, appeared
«
of an Alpine wildness ; the dull far gleam of the
lake below gave the idea of immeasurable depth ;
and the roar of torrents and rain courses burst
ing over the cliffs above our heads fell with a
solemn and boding sound upon the ear.
Kenmare, called also Nedeen, is a common-place
village near the Kenmare river, where it falls into
the bay. Here I hired a pony, and a certain John
Brenan, an active, intelligent fellow, to conduct us
both over the Esk Mountain to Glengariff.
I have rarely mentioned names in the course of
this work ; but, as at Sligo I deemed it right to
correct a mistake which Mr. Inglis fell into re
specting the properties of Lord Palmerston and
Mr, Wynne, so at Kenmare I think it well to give
in my dissent to his opinion with regard to the
estate of Lord Lansdowne, If Mr, Inglis had

252 IRELAND,
visited in person some of the trim-looking, white
washed cottages which dot the landscape, I cannot
think that he would have given so unceremonious a
contradiction to the account of the district current
at Cork, Lord Lansdowne has done much ; he has
built these cottages at his own expense ; but he is
grossly deceived if he supposes that he has as yet
succeeded in improving the condition of their in
habitants. If Lord Lansdowne wishes to know
what is the actual condition of his tenantry near
Kenmare, he will visit the estate in person, or
employ some person on whom he can depend to
do so.
The little hobbies of the country, observes Smith,
in his history of the county, are the properest
horses to travel through it ; and a man must
abandon himself entirely to their guidance, which
will answer much better than if one should strive
to manage and direct their footsteps : for these
creatures are a kind of automata, or machines,
which naturally follow the laws of mechanics, and
will conduct themselves much better on those occa
sions than the most knowing persons can possibly
direct them.
In Lough Quinlan, a little way south of the
Kenmare river, were, and perhaps still are, the
floating islands, described by the same author as
swimming from side to side of the lake. He sup
poses them to be composed at first of a kind of long
grass, which, being blown off the adjacent grounds

FLOATING ISLANDS. 253
in the month of September, floats about, " and
collecting sHme and other stuff," forms the nucleus
of the island. The Mexicans, according to Father
Acosta, had floating gardens in the lake in which
their capital stands, and rowed them to any part of
the city they pleased. Herodotus, and other ancient
authors, describe such islands as carrying woods
and temples ; and Dr, Halley mentions, in the Phi
losophical Transactions, that he himself landed upon
one, somewhere in Carnarvonshire,
Notwithstanding Smith's praise of the hobbies, the
traveller will not find the instinct of his pony of
such momentous consequence as he will be led to
expect. The route across the mountain to Glen
gariff is steep, it is true, but that is more the pony's
affair than his ; and, unless he is very nervous
indeed, he will not be sufficiently incommoded by
the idea of danger to prevent his enjoying some
rock scenery of a very picturesque character,
Glengariff is described in the annexed engraving;
and I cannot do better than present the reader with
the following pen and ink sketch, by the author of
" Sketches in the North and South of Ireland,"
a book which the tourist will do well to take
with him,
" A bay runs in at right angles from the east
and west direction of Bantry Bay, This bay is
sheltered entirely at its entrance by an island, on
which a Martello tower is erected. Thus the land
locked estuary looks to be a lake. In no respect it

254 IRELAND.
differs from a lake, save that is superior. Here no
ugly strand, muddy and foetid, left bare by the re
ceding tide : here no deposit of filth and ooze.
No ; the only thing that marks the ebb is a line of
dark demarcation that surrounds the bay, and
gives a curious sort of relief (somewhat like the
black frame of a brilliant picture) to the green
translucent waters of this gem of the ocean. No
fresh water lake can be at all compared to it ; not
even the upper lake of Killarney can stand the
competition. Here is the sea — the green, variable,
ever changing sea — without any of its defects or
deformities. * * *
" Hungry Mountain, with its cataract of eight
hundred feet falling from its side ; Sugar-loaf, so
conical, so bare, so white in its quartzose formation ;
Slieve Goul, the pathway of the fairies ; and Esk
Mountain, over which I was destined to climb my
toilsome way : every hill had its peculiar interest,
and each, according to the time of the day or the
state of the atmosphere, presented a picture so
mutable — or bright or gloomy, or near or distant —
valleys laughing in sunshine, or shrouded in dark
and undefined masses of shade ; and so deceptive,
so variable were the distances and capabilities of
prospect, that in the morning you could see a hare
bounding along on the ranges of those hills, that,
at noonday, were lost in the grey indistinctness of
distant vision. Then the glen itself, unlike other'glens
and valleys that interpose between ranges of moun-

GLENGARIFF. 255
tains, was not flat, or soft, or smooth — no meadow,
no morass, nor bog — but the most apparently tu
multuous, yet actually regular, congeries of rocks
that ever was seen, * * * * jt appears as if
the stratifications of the rock were forced up by
some uniform power from the central abyss, and
there left to stand at a certain and defined angle, a
solidified storm. And now suppose, that in every
indenture, hole, crevice, and inflexion of those
rocks, grew a yew or holly ; there the yew, with
its yellower tinge ; and here the arbutus with its
red stem and leaf of brighter green, and its rough,
wild, uncontrolled growth, adorning, and at the
same time disclosing the romantic singularity of the
scene, I know not that ever I read of such a place,
so wild and so beautiful."
This is not much exaggerated ; for in fact Glen
gariff is one of the most romantic spots in Ireland.
Romantic I think is the word to use ; for it is not
merely beautiful, but fantastic, and occasionally ex
travagant. It is finer than any fresh water lake,
and it is so precisely because it is not a fresh water
lake. It is an inlet of the sea, disposed so as to
resemble in form an inland lake, yet surrounded by
the coast scenery peculiar to the borders of the
ocean, Glengariff is a place that we cannot
readily forget. It captivates the imagination ; and,
even after a lapse of time, we continue to hang
upon its beauties, and vindicate its reputation, as if
it were a human mistress.

256 IRELAND,
The road from Glengariff round the bay to
Bantry — for Glengariff is merely a nook of Bantry
Bay — is extremely agreeable ; but there are scenes
at some distance to the left which the tourist, if
more fortunate than myself with regard to weather,
should not fail to visit, I believe, however, the
best way is to proceed at once to Bantry, and thence
make excursions to the Pass of Coveleagh and
Gougan Barry, The Bay itself, of which a view
is annexed, is a fine object. It affords excellent
anchorage, and is said to be capable of containing,
at one time, all the shipping of Europe. At the
entrance of the harbour Bear-island interposes its
protection against the fury of the Atlantic ; and,
with its rugged cliffs, adds considerably to the in
terest of the picture.
There used formerly to be a valuable pilchard
fishery here ; but, as it is stated in Dr, Brooks'
Natural History, the pilchards left the coast com
pletely immediately after the fight between the
English and French fleets in 1689. A similar oc
currence, he adds, was observed in the Bay of
Dublin, where the herrings were frightened away
for an entire season by the guns of a pleasure
yacht. The Pass of Corleagh is a deep defile very well
worth visiting, if the descriptions of it be correct,
" This deep and extraordinary chasm," says the
sketcher of Glengariff, "which nature has exca
vated through these mountains, and which, within

Caunly Cork.

MOUNTAIN PASS. 257
the last ten years, has been taken advantage of in
order to make an excellent road between Macroom
and Bantry, is really one of the most picturesque
things in Ireland. It is well worth a journey to all
its rocks and precipices : its cliffs clothed with ivy,
and here; and there interspersed through the masses
of rocks, old holly, and yew tree, and occasionally an
arbutus : — and then its strange and sudden wind
ings. You look back, and you cannot find how you
got in — before you, and you cannot imagine how
you are to get forward. You might imagine that
the spirit of the mountain had got you in his strong
hold, and here you were impounded by everlasting
enchantment. Then the surpassing loneliness of
the place —

" I never
So deeply felt the force of solitude.
High overhead the eagle soared serene.
And the grey lizard on the rocks below
Bask'd in the sun.''

And now I had arrived at one part of the pass
where an immense square castellated rock, or keep
of nature's own construction, seemed to stop up the
road for ever. The sides of this natural fortress
were clothed and garnished with ivy, maiden
hair, feathery ferns, and London pride ; and, on the
very top of the crag, as if its warden, on the very
extreme butting point, a goat, a high-horned, shaggy

258 IRELAND.
fellow, stood — and how he stood I could not explain,
or scarcely imagine — but there he was in all
bearded solemnity. Salvator Rosa would have
painted for a month gratis to be indulged with such
an opportunity of fixing such a characteristic scene,
and such accompaniments, on his canvass."
Within a short walk of this place is Gougan
Barry, a dark lake forming the bottom of a gulf
lying deep among the mountains. It is a savage
and solitary spot, although not altogether deficient
in human interest, since a small hamlet stands close
by, and a ruin raises its monumental head on a
little island. This latter is the hermitage of St.
Finbar — and not even he of Glendalough chose a
site better adapted for the purpose. The anchorite
is said to have been the founder of Cork Cathedral ;
and he had a long line of successors at the
hermitage. Leaving Bantry for Cork, the traveller will at
once lose the fine scenery he has for some time
past enjoyed ; and, although in the interval between
Skibbereen and Ross there are some good views, the
journey generally is deficient in interest. For a
description of Cork I must refer to our volume of
last year, and to the annexed view of Waterloo
Bridge, The journey from Kenmare round the coast to
Cork is usually shunned on account of its diffi
culty, by the visitors of Killarney. On one occa
sion I came myself from Kenmare to Cork by

IRISH INDUSTRY. 259
Macroom; and I found the route sufficiently
fertile in interest. My vehicle was a taxed cart,
the machine usually employed on mountainous
roads instead of the common car, and my horse
was one of the best hacks I ever saw. A peasant
we came up with on the road, however, was
quite as good a trotter ; for, although we pro
ceeded at a very brisk pace, he kept neck and
neck with us for more than ten miles, for the
sole purpose of chatting with the driver. The
peasantry of Ireland, in fact, will submit to
any fatigue provided you do not call it work.
If the gentleman I have mentioned, who endea
voured to get the starving wretches on the
western coast to fish for a living, instead of
talking of remuneration, had merely' said to
them, "Come boys, and let us go and have
a bit of sport !" the call would have been an
swered with joyful alacrity.
The country appeared for a considerable dis
tance but little cultivated, yet the houses tole
rably comfortable. The river, at length, became
little more than a mountain torrent rushing
and brawling over naked rocks ; and here the
entire scene was as wild and desolate as could
well be imagined. Again the stream widened,
and a few cultivated fields appeared; and so on
alternately. The unproductiveness of the country
however, did not seem to be the fault of the
natives, for I should think it possible to re-

260 IRELAND.
claim only a very small .portion of it. The
rest, consisting of rocks and stones, appeared to
be under the curse of perpetual sterility. We
at length reached Macroom, and the aspect of
the country became more civilized.
Beyond Macroom is the village of Ovens,
where there is a cave divided into numerous
passages, and extending, as tradition asserts, to
Gill-abbey near Cork, However this may be,
I was told that the labyrinth has never in our
day been fully explored, although some persons
are said to have proceeded above a quarter of
a mile. Next come the ruins of Kilrea, con
sisting of some walls of a castle, and more per
fect remains of an abbey of the fifteenth century.
The abbey is approached by a long passage,
the walls of which are built of human skulls
and bones. At four or five miles' distance from
Cork is Ballinacollig castle, a square building
on the summit of a sohtary rock standing in the
midst of a plain.
But when talking of castles, it is impossible to
omit Blarney castle, although not exactly in the
route. This building is in the neighbourhood of Cork,
and was founded in the fifteenth century by Cormac
M'Carthy. It is situated on a most romantic spot,
and is almost hidden by woods and shady walks,
partly natural, and partly the production of man.
" A considerable part," says Mr. Croker, " of the

INTERESTING ANECDOTE. 261
forfeited estates of the family in the county Cork
was held by Mr, S  about the middle of the
last century. Walking one evening in his demesne
he observed a figure, apparently asleep, at the foot
of an aged tree, and, on approaching the spot, found
an old man extended on the ground, whose audible
sobs proclaimed the severest affliction. Mr, S 
inquired the cause, and was answered — ' Forgive
me. Sir ; my grief is idle, but to mourn is a relief
to the desolate heart and humbled spirit, I am a
M'Carty, once the possessor of that castle, now in
ruins, and of this ground ; — this tree was planted
by my own hands, and I have returned to water its
roots with my tears. To-morrow I sail for Spain,
where I have long been an exile and an outlaw
since the Revolution. I am an old man, and to
night, probably for the last time, bid farewell to
the place of my birth and the home of my fore
fathers.' "
I have now brought my task to a conclusion.
The task, as I set it down for myself, was, while
perambulating the country with my readers, to take
the opportunity of giving them such glimpses of
that portion of society which forms the great bulk
of the nation, as might convey in the aggregate
some clear idea of the condition, character, wants,
and prospects of the people of Ireland, The
nature of the work in which this was to be done I
knew would prevent it from being done completely;
but I thought the very attempt would be useful.

2tJ2 IRELAND,
The English — more especially the English of those
distinguished classes among which such books as
mine chiefly circulate — know much less of the
Irish than they do of the Hottentots, The Irish,
they have been taught to believe, are a nation of
turbulent and seditious wretches — aliens in blood,
in country, and in religion — who die of hunger
because they are too lazy to procure food, and who
burn houses, and cut throats, out of mere frolic, or
instinctive wickedness.
Now just the reverse of this is the case. In
Ireland the descendants of the Scots and English
form a very considerable portion of the population,
and the remainder is made up — Hke the entire
population of England — of different races. The
country of the Irish is an integral part of the
British dominions ; furnishing, in due proportion,
the army with soldiers, the navy with sailors, and
the treasury with money. The religion of the
Irish is, like ours, the religion of the Atonement ;
and, except in some superstitious practices, extra
neous from the matter of the faith, it differs very
slightly from that of the Anglican church. The
Irish are not lazy because they are Irish, but be
cause, in the first place, they are only half civilized,
and because, in the second place, they are nothing
more than predial slaves, working for the benefit of
the landowner, and destitute of the hope of rising
into independence. Their condition having de
scended from century to century without change.

PROSPECTS OF THE IRISH. 263
the laziness inherited from the father is continued
in the son, and so transmitted to posterity. The
Irish are not so guilty of turbulence, sedition, in
cendiarism, and bloodshed, as any other nation in
Europe would be under the like circumstances.
Their spirit is broken by ages of tyranny. They
have crouched so long under the lash that they can
hardly stand upright. They are brave from in
stinct, but cowards from habit ; and the peasantry
every day of their lives are guilty of as despicable
acts of poltroonery, in their intercourse with the
quality, as the serfs of the middle ages exhibited in
their encounters with the knights. The outrages
which the Orange newspapers gloat upon with such
delight are the comparatively unfrequent outbreaks
of barbarians, too timid to unite in vengeance, and
too sharply goaded by insult, oppression, or mere
hunger, to unite in peace,
I must now, however, draw to a conclusion
these miscellaneous remarks on Ireland and the Irish,
What the prospects of the country are it is not
difficult to see, at a period when all the elements of
a happy change appear to be in motion. Let the
reader consult Dr, Robertson's account of the serfs
of the fifteenth century, when, for the first time,
their bitter draught was sweetened by Hope, and
apply it to Ireland,
" The effects of such a remarkable change in the
condition of so great a part of the people could not
fail of being considerable and extensive. The

264 IRELAND.
husbandman, master of his own industry, and secure
of reaping for himself the fruits of his labour, became
the farmer of the same fields where he had formerly
been compelled to toil for the benefit of another.
New prospects opened, and new incitements to inge
nuity and enterprize presented themselves to those
who were emancipated. The expectation of better
ing their fortune, as well as that of raising them
selves to a more honourable condition, concurred
in calling forth their activity and genius ; and a
numerous class of men who formerly had no po-,
litical existence, and were employed merely as
instruments of labour, became useful citizens, and
contributed towards augmenting the force or
riches of the society which adopted them as
members." But I have done, I have tried to benefit this
unhappy people, not by flattery, but by truth-
speaking ; and, although I know I shall receive no
thanks, I am quite satisfied with the consciousness
of having performed my duty as a citizen of our
common country.

YALE

J. HADDON, CASTLE 3TKEET, FINSBURY.

YALE UNIVERSITY

i390(

YA IE