ENNISKILLEN MILITARY PRIDE--THE BOYS CALLED SOLDIERS--REMNANTS OF BY-
GONE POWER--ISLAND OF DEVENISH--A ROUND TOWER--AN ANCIENT CROSS--THE
COLE FAMILY
Owing to the very great kindness of Mr. Trimble, editor of the
Fermanagh Reporter, we have seen some of the fair town of Enniskillen.
Knowing that Innis or Ennis always means island, I was not surprised to
find that Enniskillen sits on an island, and is connected with the
mainland by a bridge at either end of the town. Of course, the town has
boiled over and spread beyond the bridges, as Derry has done over and
beyond her walls. There is a military flavor all over Enniskillen, a
kind of dashing frank manner and proud steps as if the dragoon had got
into the blood. There is also nourished a pride in the exploits of
Enniskillen men from the early times when they struggled to keep their
feet and their lives in the new land. They feel pride in the fame of the
Enniskillen dragoon, in the deeds of daring and valor of the 27th
Enniskilleners all over the world. Enniskillen military pride is closely
connected with the Cole family, lords of Enniskillen.
The town is not old, only dating back to the reign of the sapient James
the First. Remembrance of the sept of Maguires who ruled here before
that time, still lingers among the country people.
Had a sail on Lough Erne at the last of April; tried to find words
sufficiently strong to express the beauty of the lake and found none. It
is as lovely as the Allumette up at Pembroke. I can not say more than
that. The banks are so richly green, the hills so fertile up to their
round tops, checked off by green hedges into fields of all shapes and
sizes; the trees lift up their proud heads and fling out their great
arms as if laden with blessing; the primroses, like baby moons, more in
number than the stars of heaven, glow under every hedge and gem every
bank, so that though the Lake Allumette is as lovely as Lough Erne, yet
the banks that sit round Lough Erne are more lovely by far than the
borders of Lake Allumette. They are as fair as any spot under heaven in
their brightness of green.
Sailing up the lake or down, I do not know which, we passed the ruins of
Portora old castle; ruined towers and battered walls, roofless and
lonely. Kind is the ivy green to the old remnants of by-gone power or
monuments of by-gone oppression, happing up the cold stones, and draping
gracefully the bare ruins.
The Island of Devenish, or of the ox, is famed for the good quality of
its grass. Here we saw the ruins of an abbey. It has been a very large
building, said to have been built as far back as 563. The ruins show it
to have been built by very much better workmen than built the more
modern Green Castle in Innishowen. The arches are of hewn stone and are
very beautifully done without the appearance of cement or mortar. The
round tower, the first I ever saw, was a wonderful sight to me. It is 76
feet high, and 41 in circumference. The walls, three feet thick, built
with scarcely any mortar, are of hewn stone, and I wondered at the skill
that rounded the tower so perfectly. The conical roof is (or was)
finished with one large stone shaped like a bell; four windows near the
top opposite the cardinal points. There is a belt of ribbed stone round
the top below the roof, with four faces carved on it over the four
windows. Advocates of the theory that the round towers were built for
Christian purposes have decided that there are three masculine, and one
feminine face, being the faces of St. Molaisse, the founder of the
abbey; St. Patrick, St. Colombkill and St. Bridget.
Near the round tower is the ruins of what was once a beautiful church.
The stone work which remains is wonderfully fine. The remaining window,
framed of hewn stone wrought into a rich, deep moulding, seems never to
have been intended for glass. It is but a narrow slit on the outside,
though wide in the inside. There are the remains of two cloistered
cells, one above another, very small, roofed and floored with stone,
belonging to a building adjoining the church. Climbed up the little
triangular steps of stone that led into the belfry tower, and looked
forth from the tower windows over woodland hill, green carpet and blue
waters, with a blessing in my heart for the fair land, and an earnest
wish for the good of its people.
There is in the old churchyard one of the fair, skilfully carved,
ancient crosses to be found in Ireland. It was shattered and cast down,
but has been restored through the care of the Government. It is very
high and massive, yet light-looking, it is so well proportioned. There
are pictures of scriptural subjects, Adam and Eve, David and Goliath,
&c., carved in relief over it. Two I saw at Ennishowen had no
inscription or carving at all.
The Government has built a wall around these fine ruins for their
protection from wanton destruction. It takes proof of the kind afforded
by these ruins to convince this unbelieving generation that the ancient
Irish were skilled carvers on stone, and architects of no mean order. I
have looked into some of what has been said as to the uses for which the
round towers were built with the result of confusing my mind hopelessly,
and convincing myself that I do not know any more than when I began,
which was nothing. I am glad, however, that I saw the outside of this
round tower. I saw not the inside, as the door is nine feet from the
ground and ladders are not handy to carry about with one.