Cornwall. It is an iron mine, and you go in on a level. Albert and I
got into one of the trucks and were dragged in by miners, Mr. Taylor
walking behind us. The miners wear a curious woollen dress, with a
cap like this: [Illustration] and the dress thus: [Illustration] and
they generally have a candle stuck in front of the cap. This time
candlesticks were stuck along the sides of the mine, and those who did
not drag or push the truck carried lights. Albert and the gentlemen
wore miners’ hats. There was no room for any one to pass between the
trucks and the rock, and only just room enough to hold up one’s head,
and not always that. It had a most curious effect, and there was
something unearthly about this lit-up cavern-like place. We got out and
scrambled a little way to see the veins of ore, and Albert knocked off
some pieces; but in general it is blown by gunpowder, being so hard.
The miners seemed so pleased at seeing us, and are intelligent, good
people. It was quite dazzling when we came into daylight again.
We then got into our carriage and passed through the small town of
_Lostwithiel_, where an address was presented to us, and then we passed
through Mr. Agar Robarts’ Park, which reminded one of _Cothele_. We
returned by the same road till near _Fowey_, when we went through some
of the narrowest lanes I almost ever drove through, and so fearfully
stony. We drove along high above the river to _Place_, belonging to
Mr. Treffry, which has been restored according to drawings in his
possession, representing the house as it was in former times. A lady of
that name defended the house against the French during the absence of
her husband, in the fourteenth or fifteenth century. The old gentleman
showed us all over the house, and into an unfinished hall, lined with
marble and porphyry, all of which came from _Cornwall_. We then walked
down to the place of embarkation and proceeded at once to the yacht.
Mr. Taylor deserved the greatest credit for all the arrangements. He
and his father are what are called “Adventurers” of the mine.
_Osborne, Wednesday, September 9._
We got up about seven o’clock and found we had just passed _The
Needles_.
VISIT TO THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY.
_Tuesday, August 27, 1861._
At eleven o’clock we all started in our own sociable, and another of
our carriages, and on ponies, for _Ross Castle_, the old ruin which
was a celebrated stronghold, and from which the Kenmare family take
their name. Here there was an immense crowd and a great many boats.
We got into a very handsome barge of eight oars--beautifully rowed.
Lord Castlerosse steering. The four children, and Lady Churchill, Lady
Castlerosse, and Lord Granville were with us.
We rowed first round _Innisfallen Island_ and some way up the _Lower
Lake_. The view was magnificent. We had a slight shower, which alarmed
us all, from the mist which overhung the mountains; but it suddenly
cleared away and became very fine and very hot. At a quarter to one
we landed at the foot of the beautiful hill of _Glena_, where on a
small sloping lawn there is a very pretty little cottage. We walked
about, though it was overpoweringly hot, to see some of the splendid
views. The trees are beautiful,--oak, birch, arbutus, holly, yew,--all
growing down to the water’s edge, intermixed with heather. The hills,
rising abruptly from the lake, are completely wooded, which gives
them a different character from those in _Scotland_, though they
often reminded me of the dear _Highlands_. We returned to the little
cottage, where the quantity of midges and the smell of peat made us
think of _Alt-na-Giuthasach_. Upstairs, from Lady Castlerosse’s little
room, the view was towards a part of the _Lower Lake_, the outline of
which is rather low. We lunched, and afterwards re-embarked, and then
took that most beautiful row up the rapid, under the _Old Weir Bridge_,
through the channel which connects the two lakes, and which is very
intricate and narrow. Close to our right as we were going, we stopped
under the splendid hill of the _Eagle’s Nest_ to hear the _echo_ of
a bugle; the sound of which, though blown near by, was not heard. We
had to get out near the _Weir Bridge_ to let the empty boats be pulled
up by the men. The sun had come out and lit up the really magnificent
scenery splendidly; but it was most oppressively hot. We wound along
till we entered the _Upper Lake_, which opened upon us with all its
high hills--the highest, _The Reeks_, 3,400 feet high--and its islands
and points covered with splendid trees;--such arbutus (quite large
trees) with yews, making a beautiful foreground. We turned into a small
bay or creek, where we got out and walked a short way in the shade,
and up to where a tent was placed, just opposite a waterfall called
_Derricaunihy_, a lovely spot, but terribly infested by midges. In
this tent was tea, fruit, ice, cakes, and everything most tastefully
arranged. We just took some tea, which was very refreshing in the
great heat of this relaxing climate. The vegetation is quite that of
a jungle--ferns of all kinds and shrubs and trees,--all springing up
luxuriantly. We entered our boats and went back the same way we came,
admiring greatly the beauty of the scenery; and this time went down the
rapids in the boat. No boats, except our own, had followed us beyond
the rapids. But below them there were a great many, and the scene was
very animated and the people very noisy and enthusiastic. The Irish
always give that peculiar shrill shriek--unlike anything one ever hears
anywhere else.
_Wednesday, August 28._
At a quarter-past eleven we started on a most beautiful drive, of
which I annex the route. We drove with Mrs. Herbert and Bertie in
our sociable, driven from the box by Wagland;[64] and, though the
highest mountains were unfortunately occasionally enveloped in mist,
and we had slight showers, we were enchanted with the extreme beauty
of the scenery. The peeps of the lake; the splendid woods full of the
most magnificent arbutus, which in one place form, for a few yards,
an avenue under which you drive, with the rocks,--which are very
peculiar--all made it one of the finest drives we had ever taken.
Turning up by the village and going round, the _Torc_ mountain reminded
us of _Scotland_--of the woods above _Abergeldie_, of _Craig Daign_ and
_Craig Clunie_. It was _so_ fine. We got out at the top of the _Torc
Waterfall_ and walked down to the foot of it. We came home at half-past
one. At four we started for the boats, quite close by. The _Muckross
Lake_ is extremely beautiful; at the beginning of our expedition it
looked dark and severe in the mist and showers which kept coming on,
just as it does in the _Highlands_. Mr. Herbert steered. Our girls,
Mrs. Herbert, Lady Churchill, and Lord Granville were in the boat with
us. The two boys went in a boat rowed by gentlemen, and the rest in two
other boats. At Mr. and Mrs. Herbert’s request I christened one of the
points which runs into the lake with a bottle of wine, Albert holding
my arm when we came close by, so that it was most successfully smashed.
[64] My coachman since 1857; and a good, zealous servant. He entered
the Royal service in 1831, and rode as postilion for seventeen years.
His father has been thirty-two years porter in the Royal Mews at
Windsor, and is now seventy-five years old; and has been sixty years
in the service. His grandfather was also in the Royal service, having
entered it in 1788; and his daughter is nursery-maid to the Prince of
Wales’s children. Four generations, therefore, have served the Royal
Family.
When we emerged from under _Brickeen Bridge_ we had a fine view of the
_Lower Lake_ and of the scenery of yesterday, which rather puzzled me,
seeing it from another _point de vue_. At _Benson’s Point_ we stopped
for some time, merely rowing about backwards and forwards, or remaining
stationary, watching for the deer (all this is a deer forest as well
as at _Glena_), which we expected the dogs would find and bring down
into the water. But in vain: we waited till past six and no deer came.
The evening had completely cleared and became quite beautiful; and the
effect of the numbers of boats full of people, many with little flags,
rowing about in every direction and cheering and shouting, lit up by
the evening light, was charming. At _Darby’s Garden_ the shore was
densely crowded, and many of the women in their blue cloaks waded into
the water, holding their clothes up to their knees.
We were home by seven o’clock, having again a slight sprinkling of
rain.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY SMITH, ELDER AND CO.
Transcriber’s Notes
Page 3 — Rocky Islanas changed to Rocky Islands.
Inconsistent hyphenation was made consistent only when a predominant
form was found in this book.