[Illustration: Blarney Castle.]
This Engraving, to use a cant phrase, is an exquisite "bit of Blarney;"
but independent of the vulgar association, it has a multitude of
attractions for every reader. Its interest will, however, be materially
enhanced by the following admirable description from the graphic pen of
T. Crofton Croker, Esq.[1]
[1] Researches in the South of Ireland, Illustrative of the Scenery,
Architectural Remains, and the Manners and Superstitions of the
Peasantry. By T. Crofton Croker. 4to. 1824 Murray. VOL. XIV.
Blarney, so famous in Irish song and story, is situated about four
miles north west of Cork, and was, within these few years, a thriving
manufacturing village; but it no longer wears the aspect of comfort or
of business, and appears much gone to decay.
The alteration struck me very forcibly. In 1815, I remember a large
square of neat cottages, and the area, a green shaded by fine old trees.
Most of the cottages are now roofless; the trees have been cut down, and
on my last visit, in 1821, a crop of barley was ripening in the square.
"the clam'rous rooks
Ask for their wonted seat, but ask in vain!
Their ancient home is level'd with the earth,
Never to wave again its leafy head,
Or yield a covert to the feather'd choir,
Who now, with broken song, remote and shy,
Seek other bowers, their native branches gone!"
This prepared me to expect a similar change in the grounds of the
castle, where much timber has been also felled; but the grounds still
are beautiful, rock and water being features in the landscape, the
picturesque effect of which neglect cannot injure.
The castle consists of a massive square tower, that rises broad and
boldly above surrounding trees, on a precipitous rock over a stream
called the Awmartin; and attached to the east side is an extensive
dwelling-house, erected about a century since by Sir James Jeffreys, who
purchased or obtained this estate from the crown, and in whose family it
still continues.
Blarney Castle was built about the middle of the fifteenth century,
by Cormac MacCarty, or Carthy surnamed Laider, or the Strong. He was
descended from the kings of Cork, and was esteemed so powerful a
chieftain that the English settlers in his part of Munster paid him an
annual tribute of forty pounds to protect them from the attacks and
_insults_ of the Irish. To him is also ascribed the building of the
Abbey and Castle of Kilcrea, the Nunnery of Ballyvacadine, and many
other religious houses; in the former of which he was buried.[2] It
would be a matter of little importance and considerable labour to trace
the Castle of Blarney from one possessor to another. The genealogical
table in Keating's "History of Ireland" will enable those addicted to
research to follow the Mac Carty pedigree; but a tiresome repetition of
names, occasioned by the scantiness of them in an exceedingly numerous
family, present continual causes of perplexity to the general reader.
The names of Donough, Cormac, Teague, Florence, Dermot, Owen, and
Donnel, constitute almost the whole catalogue used by the Mac Carties[3]
for a period exceeding six hundred years.[4] This difficulty is
heightened from the entire Sept being, in point of fact, without a
sirname, as the followers of most chieftains in Ireland as well as
Scotland assumed that of their lord. In the reign of Edward IV. a
statute was enacted, commanding each individual to take upon himself a
separate sirname, "either of his trade and faculty, or of some quality
of his body or mind, or of the place where he dwelt, so that every one
should be distinguished from the other." But this statute did not effect
the object proposed, and Spenser, in his "View of Ireland," mentions it
as having become obsolete, and strongly recommends its renewal.
[2] This tomb, according to Archdall's "Monasticon Hibernicum,"
stood in the middle of the choir of Kilcrea Abbey, with the
following inscription:--
HIC. IACET. CORMACVS. FIL. THADEI. FIL. CORMACI. FIL. DERMITII.
MAGNI. MC. CARTHY. DNVS DE. MVSCRAIGH. FLAYN. AC. ISTIVS.
CONVENTVS. PRIMVS. FVNDATOR. AN. DOM. 1494.
[3] The original name of a sept or clan was Carty, supposed to be
derived from Cartheigh, which signifies an Inhabitant of the
Rock; and Mac, denoting "_son of_;" was used before the father's
Christian name for the purpose of distinction, as, Mac Cormac
Carty expressed Carty, son of Cormac; this manner of designation
appears discontinued on the introduction of a greater variety of
names, and the Mac alone retained by the elder branches.
[4] Amongst the Harleian MSS. the Vol. No. 1425, contains pedigrees
of Irish nobility; from the ninth to the twenty-second page is
occupied by those of "Mac Cartie More," Mac Cartie Reagh, and
all other Mac Carties, brought down to the year 1615; but though
curious for reference, there is little worth the trouble of
transcribing. The most common female names in the Mac Carty
pedigree are, Katheren, Elin, Honnor, Joan, and Grany.
The military and historic recollections connected with Blarney are
doubtless of sufficient importance to give an interest to the place; but
to a curious superstition it is perhaps more indebted for celebrity. A
stone in the highest part of the castle wall is pointed out to visitors,
which is supposed to give to whoever kisses it the peculiar privilege of
deviating from veracity with unblushing countenance whenever it may be
convenient--hence the well-known phrase of "_Blarney_."
The grounds attached to the castle, as I before observed, though so little
attended to, are still beautiful. Walks, which a few years since were neat
and trim, are now so overrun with brambles and wild flowers as to be passed
with difficulty. Much wood has also been cut down, and the statues, so
ridiculously enumerated in a popular song, removed. A picturesque bridge
too, which led to the castle, has been swept away by the wintry floods,
and, with the exception of a small dell called the Rock Close, every thing
seems changed for the worse. In this romantic spot nature and art (a
combination rather uncommon in pleasure-grounds) have gone hand in hand.
Advantage has been taken of accidental circumstances to form tasteful and
characteristic combinations; and it is really a matter of difficulty at
first to determine what is primitive, and what the produce of design. The
delusion is even heightened by the present total neglect. You come most
unexpectedly into this little shaded nook, and stand upon a natural terrace
above the river, which glides as calmly as possible beneath. Here, if you
feel inclined for contemplation, a rustic couch of rock, all festooned with
moss and ivy, is at your service; but if adventurous feelings urge you to
explore farther, a discovery is made of an almost concealed, irregularly
excavated passage through the solid rock, which is descended by a rude
flight of stone steps, called the "Witches Stairs," and you emerge _sul
margine d'un rio_, over which depend some light and graceful trees. It
is indeed a fairy scene, and I know of no place where I could sooner
imagine these little elves holding their moonlight revelry.
A short distance to the south-west of the castle is a lake, said to abound
with a species of leech. It does not afford one good subject for the
pencil, being without islands, the margin swampy, and the adjacent trees
planted with too much attention to regularity. It is a very generally
believed tradition that, before Blarney surrendered to King William's
forces, Lord Clancarty's plate was made up in an 'oaken chest, which was
thrown into this lake, and has not since been recovered; nor does this
appear improbable, as I understand repeated attempts have in vain been made
to drain it. In 1814, the late Mr. Milliken, whose well-known song of "the
Groves of Blarney" has identified his memory with the place, gave me a
clumsy silver ring for the finger, which had been taken out of the lake by
a boy who was fishing in it.
Since I am on the subject of discoveries, it may be worth notice that, in
a quarry close to the castle, where some men were working, we picked up
several human bones, and that one of the labourers informed us so many as
twenty horse loads of these bones had been thrown into the lake; he also
spoke of two or three spear-heads being found with them. Groats and pennies
of the Edwards and Henries have frequently been dug up here; but I believe
never in any quantity.
The interior of the castle contains little worth notice except a
full-length portrait of Charles XII. of Sweden, said to be an original, and
brought here by one of the Jeffreys' family who was envoy to that monarch.
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