SECTION I.--Soil, Face of the Country, and Climate.

This ebook was transcribed by Les Bowler.

A TOUR IN IRELAND.

1776-1779.

BY

ARTHUR YOUNG.

CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED:

_LONDON_, _PARIS_, _NEW YORK & MELBOURNE_.

1897.

INTRODUCTION.

Arthur Young was born in 1741, the son of a clergyman, at Bradfield, in

Suffolk. He was apprenticed to a merchant at Lynn, but his activity of

mind caused him to be busy over many questions of the day. He wrote when

he was seventeen a pamphlet on American politics, for which a publisher

paid him with ten pounds' worth of books. He started a periodical, which

ran to six numbers. He wrote novels. When he was twenty-eight years old

his father died, and, being free to take his own course in life, he would

have entered the army if his mother had not opposed. He settled down,

therefore, to farming, and applied to farming all his zealous energy for

reform, and all the labours of his busy pen. In 1768, a year before his

father's death, he had published "A Six Weeks' Tour through the Southern

Counties of England and Wales," which found many readers.

Between 1768 and 1771 Arthur Young produced also "The Farmer's Letters to

the People of England, containing the Sentiments of a Practical

Husbandman on the present State of Husbandry." In 1770 he published, in

two thick quartos, "A Course of Experimental Agriculture, containing an

exact Register of the Business transacted during Five Years on near 300

Acres of various Soils;" also in the same year appeared "Rural Economy;

or, Essays on the Practical Part of Husbandry;" also in the same year

"The Farmer's Guide in Hiring and Stocking Farms," in two volumes, with

plans. Also in the same year appeared his "Farmer's Kalendar," of which

the 215th edition was published in 1862. There had been a second edition

of the "Six Weeks' Tour in the South of England," with enlargements, in

1769, and Arthur Young was encouraged to go on with increasing vigour to

the publication of "The Farmer's Tour through the East of England: being

a Register of a Journey through various Counties, to inquire into the

State of Agriculture, Manufactures, and Population." This extended to

four volumes, and appeared in the years 1770 and 1771. In 1771 also

appeared, in four volumes, with plates, "A Six Months' Tour through the

North of England, containing an Account of the Present State of

Agriculture, Manufactures, and Population in several Counties of this

Kingdom."

Thus Arthur Young took all his countrymen into counsel while he was

learning his art, as a farmer who brought to his calling a vigorous

spirit of inquiry with an activity in the diffusion of his thoughts that

is a part of God's gift to the men who have thoughts to diffuse; the

instinct for utterance being almost invariably joined to the power of

suggesting what may help the world.

Whether he was essentially author turned farmer, or farmer turned author,

Arthur Young has the first place in English literature as a

farmer-author. Other practical men have written practical books of

permanent value, which have places of honour in the literature of the

farm; but Arthur Young's writings have won friends for themselves among

readers of every class, and belong more broadly to the literature of the

country.

Between 1766 and 1775 he says that he made 3,000 pounds by his

agricultural writings. The pen brought him more profit than the plough.

He took a hundred acres in Hertfordshire, and said of them, "I know not

what epithet to give this soil; sterility falls short of the idea; a

hungry vitriolic gravel--I occupied for nine years the jaws of a wolf. A

nabob's fortune would sink in the attempt to raise good arable crops in

such a country. My experience and knowledge had increased from

travelling and practice, but all was lost when exerted on such a spot."

He tried at one time to balance his farm losses by reporting for the

_Morning Post_, taking a seventeen-mile walk home to his farm every

Saturday night.

In 1780 Arthur Young published this "Tour in Ireland, with General

Observations on the Present State of that Kingdom in 1776-78." The

general observations, which give to all his books a wide general

interest, are, in this volume, of especial value to us now. It is here

reprinted as given by Pinkerton.

In 1784 Arthur Young began to edit "Annals of Agriculture," which were

continued through forty-five volumes. All writers in it were to sign

their names, but when His Majesty King George III. contributed a

description of Mr. Duckett's Farm at Petersham, he was allowed to sign

himself "Ralph Robinson of Windsor."

In 1792 Arthur Young published the first quarto volume, and in 1794 the

two volumes of his "Travels during the years 1787-8-9 and 1790,

undertaken more particularly with a view of ascertaining the Cultivation,

Wealth, Resources and National Prosperity of the Kingdom of France."

This led to the official issue in France in 1801, by order of the

Directory, of a translation of Young's agricultural works, under the

title of "Le Cultivateur Anglais." Arthur Young also corresponded with

Washington, and received recognition from the Empress Catherine of

Russia, who sent him a gold snuff-box, and ermine cloaks for his wife and

daughter. He was made a Fellow of the Royal Society.

In 1793 his labours led to the formation of a Board of Agriculture, of

which he was appointed secretary.

When he was set at ease by this appointment, with a house and 400 pounds

a year, Arthur Young had been about to experiment on the reclaiming of

four thousand acres of Yorkshire moorland. The Agricultural Board was

dissolved in 1816, four years before surveys of the agriculture of each

county were made for the Agricultural Board, Arthur Young himself

contributing surveys of Hertfordshire, Lincolnshire, Oxfordshire,

Norfolk, Suffolk, and Sussex.

Arthur Young's sight became dim in 1808, and blindness gradually

followed. He died in 1820 at his native village of Bradfield, in

Suffolk, at the age of seventy-nine years.

H. M.

A TOUR IN IRELAND.

June 19, 1776. Arrived at Holyhead, after an instructive journey through

a part of England and Wales I had not seen before. Found the packet, the

_Claremont_, Captain Taylor, would sail very soon. After a tedious

passage of twenty-two hours, landed on the 20th in the morning, at

Dunlary, four miles from Dublin, a city which much exceeded my

expectation. The public buildings are magnificent, very many of the

streets regularly laid out, and exceedingly well built. The front of the

Parliament-house is grand, though not so light as a more open finishing

of the roof would have made it. The apartments are spacious, elegant,

and convenient, much beyond that heap of confusion at Westminster, so

inferior to the magnificence to be looked for in the seat of empire. I

was so fortunate as to arrive just in time to see Lord Harcourt, with the

usual ceremonies, prorogue the Parliament. Trinity College is a

beautiful building, and a numerous society; the library is a very fine

room, and well filled. The new Exchange will be another edifice to do

honour in Ireland; it is elegant, cost forty thousand pounds, but

deserves a better situation. From everything I saw, I was struck with

all those appearances of wealth which the capital of a thriving community

may be supposed to exhibit. Happy if I find through the country in

diffused prosperity the right source of this splendour! The common

computation of inhabitants 200,000, but I should suppose exaggerated.

Others guessed the number 140,000 or 150,000.

June 21. Introduced by Colonel Burton to the Lord Lieutenant, who was

pleased to enter into conversation with me on my intended journey, made

many remarks on the agriculture of several Irish counties, and showed

himself to be an excellent farmer, particularly in draining. Viewed the

Duke of Leinster's house, which is a very large stone edifice, the front

simple but elegant, the pediment light; there are several good rooms; but

a circumstance unrivalled is the court, which is spacious and

magnificent, the opening behind the house is also beautiful. In the

evening to the Rotunda, a circular room, ninety feet diameter, an

imitation of Ranelagh, provided with a band of music.

The barracks are a vast building, raised in a plain style, of many

divisions; the principal front is of an immense length. They contain

every convenience for ten regiments.

June 23. Lord Charlemont's house in Dublin is equally elegant and

convenient, the apartments large, handsome, and well disposed, containing

some good pictures, particularly one by Rembrandt, of Judas throwing the

money on the floor, with a strong expression of guilt and remorse; the

whole group fine. In the same room is a portrait of Caesar Borgia, by

Titian. The library is a most elegant apartment of about forty by

thirty, and of such a height as to form a pleasing proportion; the light

is well managed, coming in from the cove of the ceiling, and has an

exceeding good effect; at one end is a pretty ante-room, with a fine copy

of the Venus de Medicis, and at the other two small rooms, one a cabinet

of pictures and antiquities, the other medals. In the collection also of

Robert Fitzgerald, Esq., in Merion Square, are several pieces which very

well deserve a traveller's attention; it was the best I saw in Dublin.

Before I quit that city I observe, on the houses in general, that what

they call their two-roomed ones are good and convenient. Mr. Latouche's,

in Stephen's Green, I was shown as a model of this sort, and I found it

well contrived, and finished elegantly. Drove to Lord Charlemont's villa

at Marino, near the city, where his lordship has formed a pleasing lawn,

margined in the higher part by a well-planted thriving shrubbery, and on

a rising ground a banqueting-room, which ranks very high among the most

beautiful edifices I have anywhere seen; it has much elegance, lightness,

and effect, and commands a fine prospect. The rising ground on which it

stands slopes off to an agreeable accompaniment of wood, beyond which on

one side is Dublin Harbour, which here has the appearance of a noble

river crowded with ships moving to and from the capital. On the other

side is a shore spotted with white buildings, and beyond it the hills of

Wicklow, presenting an outline extremely various. The other part of the

view (it would be more perfect if the city was planted out) is varied, in

some places nothing but wood, in others breaks of prospect. The lawn,

which is extensive, is new grass, and appears to be excellently laid

down, the herbage a fine crop of white clover (_trifolium repens_),

trefoil, rib-grass (_plantago lanceolata_), and other good plants.

Returned to Dublin, and made inquiries into other points, the prices of

provisions, etc. The expenses of a family in proportion to those of

London are, as five to eight.

Having the year following lived more than two months in Dublin, I am able

to speak to a few points, which as a mere traveller I could not have

done. The information I before received of the prices of living is

correct. Fish and poultry are plentiful and very cheap. Good lodgings

almost as dear as they are in London; though we were well accommodated

(dirt excepted) for two guineas and a-half a week. All the lower ranks

in this city have no idea of English cleanliness, either in apartments,

persons, or cookery. There is a very good society in Dublin in a

Parliament winter: a great round of dinners and parties; and balls and

suppers every night in the week, some of which are very elegant; but you

almost everywhere meet a company much too numerous for the size of the

apartments. They have two assemblies on the plan of those of London, in

Fishamble Street, and at the Rotunda; and two gentlemen's clubs, Anthry's

and Daly's, very well regulated: I heard some anecdotes of deep play at

the latter, though never to the excess common at London. An ill-judged

and unsuccessful attempt was made to establish the Italian Opera, which

existed but with scarcely any life for this one winter; of course they

could rise no higher than a comic one. _La Buona Figliuola_, _La

Frascatana_, and _Il Geloso in Cimento_, were repeatedly performed, or

rather murdered, except the parts of Sestini. The house was generally

empty, and miserably cold. So much knowledge of the state of a country

is gained by hearing the debates of a Parliament, that I often frequented

the gallery of the House of Commons. Since Mr. Flood has been silenced

with the Vice-Treasurership of Ireland, Mr. Daly, Mr. Grattan, Sir

William Osborn, and the prime serjeant Burgh, are reckoned high among the

Irish orators. I heard many very eloquent speeches, but I cannot say

they struck me like the exertion of the abilities of Irishmen in the

English House of Commons, owing perhaps to the reflection both on the

speaker and auditor, that the Attorney-General of England, with a dash of

his pen, can reverse, alter, or entirely do away the matured result of

all the eloquence, and all the abilities of this whole assembly. Before

I conclude with Dublin I shall only remark, that walking in the streets

there, from the narrowness and populousness of the principal

thoroughfares, as well as from the dirt and wretchedness of the canaille,

is a most uneasy and disgusting exercise.

June 24. Left Dublin, and passed through the Phoenix Park, a very

pleasing ground, at the bottom of which, to the left, the Liffey forms a

variety of landscapes: this is the most beautiful environ of Dublin.

Take the road to Luttrel's Town, through a various scenery on the banks

of the river. That domain is a considerable one in extent, being above

four hundred acres within the wall, Irish measure; in the front of the

house is a fine lawn bounded by rich woods, through which are many

ridings, four miles in extent. From the road towards the house they lead

through a very fine glen, by the side of a stream falling over a rocky

bed, through the dark woods, with great variety on the sides of steep

slopes, at the bottom of which the Liffey is either heard or seen

indistinctly. These woods are of great extent, and so near the capital,

form a retirement exceedingly beautiful. Lord Irnham and Colonel Luttrel

have brought in the assistance of agriculture to add to the beauties of

the place; they have kept a part of the lands in cultivation in order to

lay them down the better to grass; one hundred and fifty acres have been

done, and above two hundred acres most effectually drained in the covered

manner filled with stones. These works are well executed. The drains

are also made under the roads in all wet places, with lateral short ones

to take off the water instead of leaving it, as is common, to soak

against the causeway, which is an excellent method. Great use has been

made of limestone gravel in the improvements, the effect of which is so

considerable, that in several spots where it was laid on ten years ago,

the superiority of the grass is now similar to what one would expect from

a fresh dunging.

Leaving Luttrel's Town I went to St. Wolstan's, which Lord Harcourt had

been so obliging as to desire I would make my quarters, from whence to

view to the right or left.

June 25. To Mr. Clement's, at Killadoon, who has lately built an

excellent house, and planted much about it, with the satisfaction of

finding that all his trees thrive well. I remarked the beech and larch

seemed to get beyond the rest. He is also a good farmer.

June 26. Breakfasted with Colonel Marlay, at Cellbridge, found he had

practised husbandry with much success, and given great attention to it

from the peace of 1763, which put a period to a gallant scene of service

in Germany. Walked through his grounds, which I found in general very

well cultivated; his fences excellent; his ditches five by six and seven

by six; the banks well made, and planted with quicks; the borders dug

away, covered with lime till perfectly slacked, them mixed with dung and

carried into the fields, a practice which Mr. Marlay has found of very

great benefit.

Viewed Lucan, the seat of Agmondisham Vesey, Esq., on the banks of the

Liffey. The house is rebuilding, but the wood on the river, with walks

through it, is exceedingly beautiful. The character of the place is that

of a sequestered shade. Distant views are everywhere shut out, and the

objects all correspond perfectly with the impression they were designed

to raise. It is a walk on the banks of the river, chiefly under a

variety of fine wood, which rises on varied slopes, in some parts gentle,

in others steep, spreading here and there into cool meadows, on the

opposite shore, rich banks of wood or shrubby ground. The walk is

perfectly sequestered, and has that melancholy gloom which should ever

dwell in such a place. The river is of a character perfectly suited to

the rest of the scenery, in some places breaking over rocks, in other

silent, under the thick shade of spreading wood. Leaving Lucan, the next

place is Leixlip, a fine one, on the river, with a fall, which in a wet

season is considerable. Then St. Wolstan's, belonging to the Dean of

Derry, a beautiful villa, which is also on the river; the grounds gay and

open, though not without the advantage of much wood, disposed with

judgment. A winding shrubbery quits the river, and is made to lead

through some dressed ground that is pretty and cheerful.

Mr. Conolly's, at Castle Town, to which all travellers resort, is the

finest house in Ireland, and not exceeded by many in England. It is a

large handsome edifice, situated in the middle of an extensive lawn,

which is quite surrounded with fine plantations disposed to the best

advantage. To the north these unite into very large woods, through which

many winding walks lead, with the convenience of several ornamented

seats, rooms, etc. On the other side of the house, upon the river, is a

cottage, with a shrubbery, prettily laid out; the house commands an

extensive view, bounded by the Wicklow mountains. It consists of several

noble apartments. On the first floor is a beautiful gallery, eighty feet

long, elegantly fitted up.

June 27. Left Lord Harcourt's, and having received an invitation from

the Duke of Leinster, passed through Mr. Conolly's grounds to his Grace's

seat at Cartown. The park ranks among the finest in Ireland. It is a

vast lawn, which waves over gentle hills, surrounded by plantations of

great extent, and which break and divide in places so as to give much

variety. A large but gentle vale winds through the whole, in the bottom

of which a small stream has been enlarged into a fine river, which throws

a cheerfulness through most of the scenes: over it a handsome stone

bridge. There is a great variety on the banks of this vale; part of it

consists of mild and gentle slopes, part steep banks of thick wood. In

another place they are formed into a large shrubbery, very elegantly laid

out, and dressed in the highest order, with a cottage, the scenery about

which is uncommonly pleasing: and farther on this vale takes a stronger

character, having a rocky bank on one side, and steep slopes scattered

irregularly, with wood on the other. On one of the most rising grounds

in the park is a tower, from the top of which the whole scenery is

beheld; the park spreads on every side in fine sheets of lawn, kept in

the highest order by eleven hundred sheep, scattered over with rich

plantations, and bounded by a large margin of wood, through which is a

riding.

From hence took the road to Summerhill, the seat of the Right Hon. H. L.

Rowley. The country is cheerful and rich; and if the Irish cabins

continue like what I have hitherto seen, I shall not hesitate to

pronounce their inhabitants as well off as most English cottagers. They

are built of mud walls eighteen inches or two feet thick, and well

thatched, which are far warmer than the thin clay walls in England. Here

are few cottars without a cow, and some of them two. A bellyful

invariably of potatoes, and generally turf for fuel from a bog. It is

true they have not always chimneys to their cabins, the door serving for

that and window too. If their eyes are not affected with the smoke, it

may be an advantage in warmth. Every cottage swarms with poultry, and

most of them have pigs.

Went in the evening to Lord Mornington's at Dangan, who is making many

improvements, which he showed me. His plantations are extensive, and he

has formed a large water, having five or six islands much varied, and

promontories of high land shoot so far into it as to form almost distant

lakes; the effect pleasing. There are above a hundred acres under water,

and his lordship has planned a considerable addition to it. Returned to

Summerhill.

June 29. Left it, taking the road to Slaine, the country very pleasant

all the way; much of it on the banks of the Boyne, variegated with some

woods, planted hedgerows, and gentle hills. The cabins continue much the

same, the same plenty of poultry, pigs, and cows. The cattle in the road

have their fore legs all tied together with straw to keep them from

breaking into the fields; even sheep, and pigs, are all in the same

bondage.

Lord Conyngham's seat, Slaine Castle, on the Boyne, is one of the most

beautiful places I have seen; the grounds are very bold and various,

rising round the castle in noble hills or beautiful inequalities of

surface, with an outline of flourishing plantations. Under the castle

flows the Boyne, in a reach broken by islands, with a very fine shore of

rock on one side, and wood on the other. Through the lower plantations

are ridings, which look upon several beautiful scenes formed by the

river, and take in the distant country, exhibiting the noblest views of

waving Cultinald hills, with the castle finely situated in the midst of

the planted domain, through which the Boyne winds its beautiful course.

Under Mr. Lambert's house on the same river is a most romantic and

beautiful spot; rocks on the side, rising in peculiar forms very boldly;

the other steep wood, the river bending short between them like a

land-locked basin.

Lord Conyngham's keeping up Slaine Castle, and spending great sums,

though he rarely resides there, is an instance of magnificence not often

met with; while it is so common for absentees to drain the kingdom of

every shilling they can, so contrary a conduct ought to be held in the

estimation which it justly deserves.

June 30. Rode out to view the country and some improvements in the

neighbourhood: the principal of which are those of Lord Chief Baron

Foster, which I saw from Glaston hill, in the road from Slaine to

Dundalk.

In conversation with Lord Longford I made many inquiries concerning the

state of the lower classes, and found that in some respects they were in

good circumstances, in others indifferent; they have, generally speaking,

such plenty of potatoes as always to command a bellyful; they have flax

enough for all their linen, most of them have a cow, and some two, and

spin wool enough for their clothes; all a pig, and numbers of poultry,

and in general the complete family of cows, calves, hogs, poultry, and

children pig together in the cabin; fuel they have in the utmost plenty.

Great numbers of families are also supported by the neighbouring lakes,

which abound prodigiously with fish. A child with a packthread and a

crooked pin will catch perch enough in an hour for the family to live on

the whole day, and his lordship has seen five hundred children fishing at

the same time, there being no tenaciousness in the proprietors of the

lands about a right to the fish. Besides perch, there is pike upwards of

five feet long, bream, tench, trout of ten pounds, and as red as salmon,

and fine eels. All these are favourable circumstances, and are very

conspicuous in the numerous and healthy families among them.

Reverse the medal: they are ill clothed, and make a wretched appearance,

and what is worse, are much oppressed by many who make them pay too dear

for keeping a cow, horse, etc. They have a practice also of keeping

accounts with the labourers, contriving by that means to let the poor

wretches have very little cash for their year's work. This is a great

oppression, farmers and gentlemen keeping accounts with the poor is a

cruel abuse: so many days' work for a cabin; so many for a potato garden;

so many for keeping a horse, and so many for a cow, are clear accounts

which a poor man can understand well, but farther it ought never to go;

and when he has worked out what he has of this sort, the rest of his work

ought punctually to be paid him every Saturday night. Another

circumstance mentioned was the excessive practice they have in general of

pilfering. They steal everything they can lay their hands on, and I

should remark, that this is an account which has been very generally

given me: all sorts of iron hinges, chains, locks, keys, etc.; gates will

be cut in pieces, and conveyed away in many places as fast as built;

trees as big as a man's body, and that would require ten men to move,

gone in a night. Lord Longford has had the new wheels of a car stolen as

soon as made. Good stones out of a wall will be taken for a fire-hearth,

etc., though a breach is made to get at them. In short, everything, and

even such as are apparently of no use to them; nor is it easy to catch

them, for they never carry their stolen goods home, but to some bog-hole.

Turnips are stolen by car-loads, and two acres of wheat plucked off in a

night. In short, their pilfering and stealing is a perfect nuisance.

How far it is owing to the oppression of laws aimed solely at the

religion of these people, how far to the conduct of the gentlemen and

farmers, and how far to the mischievous disposition of the people

themselves, it is impossible for a passing traveller to ascertain. I am

apt to believe that a better system of law and management would have good

effects. They are much worse treated than the poor in England, are

talked to in more opprobrious terms, and otherwise very much oppressed.

Left Packenham Hall.

Two or three miles from Lord Longford's in the way to Mullingar the road

leads up a mountain, and commands an exceeding fine view of Lock

Derrevaragh, a noble water eight miles long, and from two miles to half a

mile over; a vast reach of it, like a magnificent river, opens as you

rise the hill. Afterwards I passed under the principal mountain, which

rises abruptly from the lake into the boldest outline imaginable. The

water there is very beautiful, filling up the steep vale formed by this

and the opposite hills.

Reached Mullingar.

It was one of the fair days. I saw many cows and beasts, and more

horses, with some wool. The cattle were of the same breed that I had

generally seen in coming through the country.

July 5. Left Mullingar, which is a dirty ugly town, and taking the road

to Tullamore, stopped at Lord Belvidere's, with which place I was as much

struck as with any I had ever seen. The house is perched on the crown of

a very beautiful little hill, half surrounded with others, variegated and

melting into one another. It is one of the most singular places that is

anywhere to be seen, and spreading to the eye a beautiful lawn of

undulating ground margined with wood. Single trees are scattered in some

places, and clumps in others; the general effect so pleasing, that were

there nothing further, the place would be beautiful, but the canvas is

admirably filled. Lake Ennel, many miles in length, and two or three

broad, flows beneath the windows. It is spotted with islets, a

promontory of rock fringed with trees shoots into it, and the whole is

bounded by distant hills. Greater and more magnificent scenes are often

met with, but nowhere a more beautiful or a more singular one.

From Mullingar to Tullespace I found rents in general at twenty shillings

an acre, with much relet at thirty shillings, yet all the crops except

bere were very bad, and full of weeds. About the latter-named place the

farms are generally from one hundred to three hundred acres; and their

course: 1. fallow; 2. bere; 3. oats; 4. oats; 5. oats. Great quantities

of potatoes all the way, crops from forty to eighty barrels.

The road before it comes to Tullamore leads through a part of the bog of

Allen, which seems here extensive, and would make a noble tract of

meadow. The way the road was made over it was simply to cut a drain on

each side, and then lay on the gravel, which, as fast as it was laid and

spread, bore the ears. Along the edges is fine white clover.

In conversation upon the subject of a union with Great Britain, I was

informed that nothing was so unpopular in Ireland as such an idea; and

that the great objection to it was increasing the number of absentees.

When it was in agitation, twenty peers and sixty commoners were talked of

to sit in the British Parliament, which would be the resident of eighty

of the best estates in Ireland. Going every year to England would, by

degrees, make them residents; they would educate their children there,

and in time become mere absentees: becoming so they would be unpopular,

others would be elected, who, treading in the same steps, would yield the

place still to others; and thus by degrees, a vast portion of the kingdom

now resident would be made absentees, which would, they think, be so

great a drain to Ireland, that a free trade would not repay it.

I think the idea is erroneous, were it only for one circumstance, the

kingdom would lose, according to this reasoning, an idle race of country

gentlemen, and in exchange their ports would fill with ships and

commerce, and all the consequences of commerce, an exchange that never

yet proved disadvantageous to any country.

Viewed Mount Juliet, Lord Carrick's seat, which is beautifully situated

on a fine declivity on the banks of the Nore, commanding some extensive

plantations that spread over the hills, which rise in a various manner on

the other side of the river. A knoll of lawn rises among them with

artificial ruins upon it, but the situation is not in unison with the

idea of a ruin, very rarely placed to effect, unless in retired and

melancholy spots.

The river is a very fine one, and has a good accompaniment of well grown

wood. From the cottage a more varied scene is viewed, cheering and

pleasing; and from the tent in the farther plantation a yet gayer one,

which looks down on several bends of the river.

July 11. Left Kilsaine. Mr. Bushe accompanied me to Woodstock, the seat

of Sir W. Fownes. From Thomastown hither is the finest ride I have yet

had in Ireland. The road leaving Thomastown leads on the east side of

the river, through some beautiful copse woods, which before they were cut

must have had a most noble effect, with the river Nore winding at the

bottom. The country then opens somewhat, and you pass most of the way

for six or seven miles to Innisteague, on a declivity shelving down to

the river, which takes a varied winding course, sometimes lively,

breaking over a rocky bottom, at others still and deep under the gloom of

some fine woods, which hang down the sides of steep hills. Narrow slips

of meadow of a beautiful verdure in some places form the shore, and unite

with cultivated fields that spread over the adjoining hills, reaching

almost the mountain tops. These are large and bold, and give in general

to the scenes features of great magnificence. Passed Sir John Hasler's

on the opposite side of the river, finely situated, and Mr. Nicholson's

farm on this side, who has very extensive copses which line the river.

Coming in sight of Sir W. Fownes's, the scenery is striking; the road

mounts the side of the hill, and commands the river at the bottom of the

declivity, with groups of trees prettily scattered about, and the little

borough of Innisteague in a most picturesque situation, the whole bounded

by mountains. Cross the bridge, and going through the town, take a path

that leads to a small building in the woods, called Mount Sandford. It

is at the top of a rocky declivity almost perpendicular, but with brush

wood growing from the rocks. At the bottom is the river, which comes

from the right from behind a very bold hanging wood, that seems to unite

with the hill on the opposite shore. At this pass the river fills the

vale, but it widens by degrees, and presents various reaches, intermixed

with little tufts of trees. The bridge we passed over is half hid.

Innisteague is mixed with them, and its buildings backed by a larger

wood, give variety to the scene. Opposite to the point of view there are

some pretty enclosures, fringed with wood, and a line of cultivated

mountain sides, with their bare tops limit the whole.

Taking my leave of Mr. Bushe, I followed the road to Ross. Passed

Woodstock, of which there is a very fine view from the top of one of the

hills, the house in the centre of a sloping wood of five hundred English

acres, and hanging in one noble shade to the river, which flows at the

bottom of a winding glen. From the same hill in front it is seen in a

winding course for many miles through a great extent of enclosures,

bounded by mountains. As I advanced the views of the river Nore were

very fine, till I came to Ross, where from the hill before you go down to

the ferry is a noble scene of the Barrow, a vast river flowing through

bold shores. In some places trees on the bank half obscure it, in others

it opens in large reaches, the effect equally grand and beautiful. Ships

sailing up to the town, which is built on the side of a hill to the

water's edge, enliven the scene not a little. The water is very deep and

the navigation secure, so that ships of seven hundred tons may come up to

the town; but these noble harbours on the coast of Ireland are only

melancholy capabilities of commerce: it is languid and trifling. There

are only four or five brigs and sloops that belong to the place.

Having now passed through a considerable extent of country, in which the

Whiteboys were common, and committed many outrages, I shall here review

the intelligence I received concerning them throughout the county of

Kilkenny. I made many inquiries into the origin of those disturbances,

and found that no such thing as a leveller or Whiteboy was heard of till

1760, which was long after the landing of Thurot, or the intending

expedition of M. Conflans. That no foreign coin was ever seen among

them, though reports to the contrary were circulated; and in all the

evidence that was taken during ten or twelve years, in which time there

appeared a variety of informers, none was ever taken, whose testimony

could be relied on, that ever proved any foreign interposition. Those

very few who attempted to favour it, were of the most infamous and

perjured characters. All the rest, whose interest it was to make the

discovery, if they had known it, and who concealed nothing else,

pretended to no such knowledge. No foreign money appeared, no arms of

foreign construction, no presumptive proof whatever of such a connection.

They began in Tipperary, and were owing to some inclosures of commons,

which they threw down, levelling the ditches, and were first known by the

name of Levellers. After that, they began with the tithe-proctors (who

are men that hire tithes of the rectors), and these proctors either

screwed the cottars up to the utmost shilling, or relet the tithes to

such as did it. It was a common practice with them to go in parties

about the country, swearing many to be true to them, and forcing them to

join by menaces, which they very often carried into execution. At last

they set up to be general redressers of grievances, punished all

obnoxious persons who advanced the value of lands, or hired farms over

their heads; and, having taken the administration of justice into their

hands, were not very exact in the distribution of it. Forced masters to

release their apprentices, carried off the daughters of rich farmers, and

ravished them into marriages, of which four instances happened in a

fortnight. They levied sums of money on the middling and lower farmers

in order to support their cause, by paying attorneys, etc., in defending

prosecutions against them; and many of them subsisted for some years

without work, supported by these contributions. Sometimes they committed

several considerable robberies, breaking into houses, and taking the

money, under pretence of redressing grievances. In the course of these

outrages they burnt several houses, and destroyed the whole substance of

men obnoxious to them. The barbarities they committed were shocking.

One of their usual punishments (and by no means the most severe) was

taking people out of their beds, carrying them naked in winter on

horseback for some distance, and burying them up to their chin in a hole

filled with briars, not forgetting to cut off their ears. In this manner

the evil existed for eight or ten years, during which time the gentlemen

of the country took some measures to quell them. Many of the magistrates

were active in apprehending them; but the want of evidence prevented

punishments, for many of those who even suffered by them had no spirit to

prosecute. The gentlemen of the country had frequent expeditions to

discover them in arms; but their intelligence was so uncommonly good by

their influence over the common people, that not one party that ever went

out in quest of them was successful. Government offered large rewards

for informations, which brought a few every year to the gallows, without

any radical cure for the evil. The reason why it was not more effective

was the necessity of any person that gave evidence against them quitting

their houses and country, or remaining exposed to their resentment. At

last their violence arose to a height which brought on their suppression.

The popish inhabitants of Ballyragget, six miles from Kilkenny, were the

first of the lower people who dared openly to associate against them;

they threatened destruction to the town, gave notice that they would

attack it, were as good as their word, came two hundred strong, drew up

before a house in which were fifteen armed men, and fired in at the

windows; the fifteen men handled their arms so well, that in a few rounds

they killed forty or fifty. They fled immediately, and ever after left

Ballyragget in peace: indeed, they have never been resisted at all

without showing a great want of both spirit and discipline. It should,

however, be observed, that they had but very few arms, those in bad

order, and no cartridges. Soon after this they attacked the house of Mr.

Power in Tipperary, the history of which is well known. His murder

spirited up the gentlemen to exert themselves in suppressing the evil,

especially in raising subscriptions to give private rewards to whoever

would give evidence or information concerning them. The private

distribution had much more effect than larger sums which required a

public declaration; and Government giving rewards to those who resisted

them, without having previously promised it, had likewise some effect.

Laws were passed for punishing all who assembled, and (what may have a

great effect) for recompensing, at the expense of the county or barony,

all persons who suffered by their outrages. In consequence of this

general exertion, above twenty were capitally convicted, and most of them

executed; and the gaols of this and the three neighbouring counties,

Carlow, Tipperary, and Queen's County, have many in them whose trials are

put off till next assizes, and against whom sufficient evidence for

conviction, it is supposed, will appear. Since this all has been quiet,

and no outrages have been committed: but before I quit the subject, it is

proper to remark that what coincided very much to abate the evil was the

fall in the price of lands which has taken place lately. This is

considerable, and has much lessened the evil of hiring farms over the

heads of one another; perhaps, also, the tithe-proctors have not been

quite so severe in their extortions: but this observation is by no means

general; for in many places tithes yet continue to be levied with all

those circumstances which originally raised the evil.

July 15. Leaving Courtown, took the Arklow road; passed a finely wooded

park of Mr. Ram's, and a various country with some good corn in it. Flat

lands by the coast let very high, and mountain at six or seven shillings

an acre, and some at eight shillings or ten shillings. Passed to

Wicklow, prettily situated on the sea, and from Newrybridge walked to see

Mr. Tye's, which is a neat farm, well wooded, with a river running

through the fields.

Reached in the evening Mount Kennedy, the seat of General Cunninghame,

who fortunately proved to me an instructor as assiduous as he is able.

He is in the midst of a country almost his own, for he has 10,000 Irish

acres here. His domain, and the grounds about it, are very beautiful;

not a level can be seen; every spot is tossed about in a variety of hill

and dale. In the middle of the lawn is one of the greatest natural

curiosities in the kingdom: an immense arbutus tree, unfortunately blown

down, but yet vegetating. One branch, which parts from the body near the

ground, and afterwards into many large branches, is six feet two inches

in circumference. The General buried part of the stem as it laid, and it

is from several branches throwing out fine young shoots: it is a most

venerable remnant. Killarney, the region of the arbutus, boasts of no

such tree as this.

July 16. Rode in the morning to Drum; a large extent of mountains and

wood on the General's estate. It is a very noble scenery; a vast rocky

glen; one side bare rocks to an immense height, hanging in a thousand

whimsical yet frightful forms, with vast fragments tumbled from them, and

lying in romantic confusion; the other a fine mountain side covered with

shrubby wood. This wild pass leads to the bottom of an amphitheatre of

mountain, which exhibits a very noble scenery. To the right is an

immense sweep of mountain completely wooded; taken as a single object it

is a most magnificent one, but its forms are picturesque in the highest

degree; great projections of hill, with glens behind all wooded, have a

noble effect. Every feature of the whole view is great, and unites to

form a scene of natural magnificence. From hence a riding is cut through

the hanging wood, which rises to a central spot, where the General has

cleared away the rubbish from under the wood, and made a beautiful waving

lawn with many oaks and hollies scattered about it: here he has built a

cottage, a pretty, whimsical oval room, from the windows of which are

three views, one of distant rich lands opening to the sea, one upon a

great mountain, and a third upon a part of the lawn. It is well placed,

and forms upon the whole a most agreeable retreat.

July 17. Took my leave of General Cunninghame, and went through the glen

of the downs in my way to Powerscourt. The glen is a pass between two

vast ridges of mountains covered with wood, which have a very noble

effect. The vale is no wider than to admit the road, a small gurgling

river almost by its side, and narrow slips of rocky and shrubby ground

which part them. In the front all escape seems denied by an immense

conical mountain, which rises out of the glen and seems to fill it up.

The scenery is of a most magnificent character. On the top of the ridge

to the right Mr. La Touche has a banqueting-room. Passing from this

sublime scene, the road leads through cheerful grounds all under corn,

rising and falling to the eye, and then to a vale of charming verdure

broken into inclosures, and bounded by two rocky mountains, distant

darker mountains filling up the scene in front. This whole ride is

interesting, for within a mile and a half of "Tinnyhinch" (the inn to

which I was directed), you come to a delicious view on the right: a small

vale opening to the sea, bounded by mountains, whose dark shade forms a

perfect contrast to the extreme beauty and lively verdure of the lower

scene, consisting of gently swelling lawns rising from each other, with

groups of trees between, and the whole so prettily scattered with white

farms, as to add every idea of cheerfulness. Kept on towards

Powerscourt, which presently came in view from the edge of a declivity.

You look full upon the house, which appears to be in the most beautiful

situation in the world, on the side of a mountain, half-way between its

bare top and an irriguous vale at its foot. In front, and spreading

among woods on either side, is a lawn whose surface is beautifully varied

in gentle declivities, hanging to a winding river.

Lowering the hill the scenery is yet more agreeable. The near inclosures

are margined with trees, through whose open branches are seen whole

fields of the most lively verdure. The trees gather into groups, and the

lawn swells into gentle inequalities, while the river winding beneath

renders the whole truly pleasing.

Breakfasted at the inn at Tinnyhinch, and then drove to the park to see

the waterfall. The park itself is fine; you enter it between two vast

masses of mountain, covered with wood, forming a vale scattered with

trees, through which flows a river on a broken rocky channel. You follow

this vale till it is lost in a most uncommon manner; the ridges of

mountain, closing, form one great amphitheatre of wood, from the top of

which, at the height of many hundred feet, bursts the water from a rock,

and tumbling down the side of a very large one, forms a scene singularly

beautiful. At the bottom is a spot of velvet turf, from which rises a

clump of oaks, and through their stems, branches and leaves, the falling

water is seen as a background, with an effect more picturesque than can

be well imagined. These few trees, and this little lawn, give the

finishing to the scene. The water falls behind some large fragments of

rock, and turns to the left, down a stony channel, under the shade of a

wood.

Returning to Tinnyhinch, I went to Inniskerry, and gained by this detour

in my return to go to the Dargle, a beautiful view which I should

otherwise have lost. The road runs on the edge of a declivity, from

whence there is a most pleasing prospect of the river's course through

the vale and the wood of Powerscourt, which here appear in large masses

of dark shade, the whole bounded by mountains. Turn to the left into the

private road that leads to the Dargle, and presently it gives a specimen

of what is to be expected by a romantic glen of wood, where the high

lands almost lock into each other, and leave scarce a passage for the

river at bottom, which rages as if with difficulty forcing its way. It

is topped by a high mountain, and in front you catch a beautiful plat of

inclosures bounded by the sea. Enter the Dargle, which is the name of a

glen near a mile long, come presently to one of the finest ranges of wood

I have anywhere seen. It is a narrow glen or vale formed by the sides of

two opposite mountains; the whole thickly spread with oak wood. At the

bottom (and the depth is immense), it is narrowed to the mere channel of

the river, which rather tumbles from rock to rock than runs. The extent

of wood that hangs to the eye in every direction is great, the depth of

the precipice on which you stand immense, which with the roar of the

water at bottom forms a scene truly interesting. In less than a quarter

of a mile, the road passing through the wood leads to another point of

view to the right. It is the crown of a vast projecting rock, from which

you look down a precipice absolutely perpendicular, and many hundred feet

deep, upon the torrent at the bottom, which finds its noisy way over

large fragments of rock. The point of view is a great projection of the

mountain on this side, answered by a concave of the opposite, so that you

command the glen both to the right and left. It exhibits on both immense

sheets of forest, which have a most magnificent appearance. Beyond the

wood to the right, are some inclosures hanging on the side of a hill,

crowned by a mountain. I knew not how to leave so interesting a spot;

the impressions raised by it are strong. The solemnity of such an extent

of wood unbroken by any intervening objects, and the whole hanging over

declivities, is alone great; but to this the addition of a constant roar

of falling water, either quite hid, or so far below as to be seen but

obscurely, united to make those impressions stronger. No contradictory

emotions are raised; no ill-judged temples appear to enliven a scene that

is gloomy rather than gay. Falling or moving water is a lively object;

but this being obscure the noise operates differently. Following the

road a little further, there is another bold rocky projection from which

also there is a double view to the right and left. In front so immense a

sweep of hanging wood, that a nobler scene can hardly be imagined; the

river as before, at the bottom of the precipice, which is so steep and

the depth so great as to be quite fearful to look down. This horrid

precipice, the pointed bleak mountains in view, with the roar of the

water, all conspire to raise one great emotion of the sublime. You

advance scarcely twenty yards before a pretty scene opens to the left--a

distant landscape of inclosures, with a river winding between the hills

to the sea. Passing to the right, fresh scenes of wood appear; half-way

to the bottom, one different from the preceding is seen; you are almost

inclosed in wood, and look to the right through some low oaks on the

opposite bank of wood, with an edging of trees through which the sky is

seen, which, added to an uncommon elegance in the outline of the hill,

has a most pleasing effect. Winding down to a thatched bench on a rocky

point, you look upon an uncommon scene. Immediately beneath is a vast

chasm in the rock, which seems torn asunder to let the torrent through

that comes tumbling over a rocky bed far sunk into a channel embosomed in

wood. Above is a range of gloomy obscure woods, which half overshadow

it, and rising to a vast height, exclude every object. To the left the

water rolls away over broken rocks--a scene duly romantic. Followed the

path: it led me to the water's edge, at the bottom of the glen, where is

a new scene, in which not a single circumstance hurts the principal

character. In a hollow formed of rock and wood (every object excluded

but those and water) the torrent breaks forth from fragments of rock, and

tumbles through the chasm, rocks bulging over it as if ready to fall into

the channel and stop the impetuous water. The shade is so thick as to

exclude the heavens; all is retired and gloomy, a brown horror breathing

over the whole. It is a spot for melancholy to muse in.

Return to the carriage, and quit the Dargle, which upon the whole is a

very singular place, different from all I have seen in England, and I

think preferable to most. Cross a murmuring stream, clear as crystal,

and, rising a hill, look back on a pleasing landscape of inclosures,

which, waving over hills, end in mountains of a very noble character.

Reach Dublin.

July 20. To Drogheda, a well-built town, active in trade, the Boyne

bringing ships to it. It was market-day, and I found the quantity of

corn, etc., and the number of people assembled, very great; few country

markets in England more thronged. The Rev. Mr. Nesbit, to whom

recommended, absent, which was a great loss to me, as I had several

inquiries which remained unsatisfied.

To the field of battle on the Boyne. The view of the scene from a rising

ground which looks down upon it is exceedingly beautiful, being one of

the completest landscapes I have seen. It is a vale, losing itself in

front between bold declivities, above which are some thick woods and

distant country. Through the vale the river winds and forms an island,

the point of which is tufted with trees in the prettiest manner

imaginable; on the other side a rich scenery of wood, among which is Dr.

Norris's house. To the right, on a rising ground on the banks of the

river, is the obelisk, backed by a very bold declivity. Pursued the road

till near it, quitted my chaise, and walked to the foot of it. It is

founded on a rock which rises boldly from the river. It is a noble

pillar, and admirably placed. I seated myself on the opposite rock, and

indulged the emotions which, with a melancholy not unpleasing, filled my

bosom, while I reflected on the consequences that had sprung from the

victory here obtained. Liberty was then triumphant. May the virtues of

our posterity secure that prize which the bravery of their ancestors won!

Peace to the memory of the Prince to whom, whatever might be his

failings, we owed that day memorable in the annals of Europe!

Returned part of the way, and took the road to Cullen, where the Lord

Chief Baron Forster received me in the most obliging manner, and gave me

a variety of information uncommonly valuable. He has made the greatest

improvements I have anywhere met with. The whole country twenty-two

years ago was a waste sheep-walk, covered chiefly with heath, with some

dwarf furze and fern. The cabins and people as miserable as can be

conceived; not a Protestant in the country, nor a road passable for a

carriage. In a word, perfectly resembling other mountainous tracts, and

the whole yielding a rent of not more than from three shillings to four

shillings an acre. Mr. Forster could not bear so barren a property, and

determined to attempt the improvement of an estate of five thousand acres

till then deemed irreclaimable. He encouraged the tenants by every

species of persuasion and expense, but they had so ill an opinion of the

land that he was forced to begin with two or three thousand acres in his

own hands; he did not, however, turn out the people, but kept them in to

see the effects of his operations.

To Dundalk. The view down on this town also very beautiful: swelling

hills of a fine verdure, with many rich inclosures backed by a bold

outline of mountain that is remarkable. Laid at the Clanbrassil Arms,

and found it a very good inn. The place, like most of the Irish towns I

have been in, full of new buildings, with every mark of increasing wealth

and prosperity. A cambric manufacture was established here by

Parliament, but failed; it was, however, the origin of that more to the

north.

July 22. Left Dundalk, took the road through Ravensdale to Mr.

Fortescue, to whom I had a letter, but unfortunately he was in the South

of Ireland. Here I saw many good stone and slate houses, and some bleach

greens; and I was much pleased to see the inclosures creeping high up the

sides of the mountains, stony as they are. Mr. Fortescue's situation is

very romantic--on the side of a mountain, with fine wood hanging on every

side, with the lawn beautifully scattered with trees spreading into them,

and a pretty river winding through the vale, beautiful in itself, but

trebly so on information that before he fixed there it was all a wild

waste. Rents in Ravensdale ten shillings; mountain land two shillings

and sixpence to five shillings. Also large tracts rented by villages,

the cottars dividing it among themselves, and making the mountain common

for their cattle.

Breakfasted at Newry--the Globe, another good inn. This town appears

exceedingly flourishing, and is very well built; yet forty years ago, I

was told, there were nothing but mud cabins in it. This great rise has

been much owing to the canal to Loch Neagh. I crossed it twice; it is

indeed a noble work. I was amazed to see ships of one hundred and fifty

tons and more lying in it, like barges in an English canal. Here is a

considerable trade.

Reached Armagh in the evening, and waited on the Primate.

July 23. His Grace rode out with me to Armagh, and showed me some of the

noble and spirited works by which he has perfectly changed the face of

the neighbourhood. The buildings he has erected in seven years, one

would suppose, without previous information, to be the work of an active

life. A list of them will justify this observation.

He has erected a very elegant palace, ninety feet by sixty, and forty

high, in which an unadorned simplicity reigns. It is light and pleasing,

without the addition of wings or lesser parts, which too frequently

wanting a sufficient uniformity with the body of the edifice, are

unconnected with it in effect, and divide the attention. Large and ample

offices are conveniently placed behind a plantation at a small distance.

Around the palace is a large lawn, which spreads on every side over the

hills, and is skirted by young plantations, in one of which is a terrace,

which commands a most beautiful view of cultivated hill and dale. The

view from the palace is much improved by the barracks, the school, and a

new church at a distance, all which are so placed as to be exceedingly

ornamental to the whole country.

The barracks were erected under his Grace's directions, and form a large

and handsome edifice. The school is a building of considerable extent,

and admirably adapted for the purpose: a more convenient or a better

contrived one is nowhere to be seen. There are apartments for a master,

a school-room fifty-six feet by twenty-eight, a large dining-room, and

spacious, airy dormitories, with every other necessary, and a spacious

playground walled in; the whole forming a handsome front: and attention

being paid to the residence of the master (the salary is four hundred

pounds a year), the school flourishes, and must prove one of the greatest

advantages to the country of anything that could have been established.

This edifice entirely at the Primate's expense. The church is erected of

white stone, and having a tall spire makes a very agreeable object in a

country where churches and spires do not abound--at least, such as are

worth looking at. Three other churches the Primate has also built, and

done considerable reparations to the cathedral.

He has been the means also of erecting a public infirmary, which was

built by subscription, contributing amply to it himself.

A public library he has erected at his own expense, given a large

collection of books, and endowed it. The room is excellently adapted,

forty-five feet by twenty-five, and twenty high, with a gallery, and

apartments for a librarian.

He has further ornamented the city with a market-house and shambles, and

been the direct means, by giving leases upon that condition, of almost

new-building the whole place. He found it a nest of mud cabins, and he

will leave it a well-built city of stone and slate. I heard it asserted

in common conversation that his Grace, in these noble undertakings, had

not expended less than thirty thousand pounds, besides what he had been

the means of doing, though not directly at his own expense.

In the evening reached Mr. Brownlow's at Lurgan, to whom I am indebted

for some valuable information. This gentleman has made very great

improvements in his domain. He has a lake at the bottom of a slight

vale, and around are three walks, at a distance from each other; the

centre one is the principal, and extends two miles. It is well conducted

for leading to the most agreeable parts of the grounds, and for

commanding views of Loch Neagh, and the distant country. There are

several buildings, a temple, green-house, etc. The most beautiful scene

is from a bench on a gently swelling hill, which rises almost on every

side from the water. The wood, the water, and the green slopes, here

unite to form a very pleasing landscape. Let me observe one thing much

to his honour; he advances his tenants money for all the lime they

choose, and takes payment in eight years with rent.

Upon inquiring concerning the emigrations, I found that in 1772 and 1773

they were at the height; that some went from this neighbourhood with

property, but not many. They were in general poor and unemployed. They

find here that when provisions are very cheap, the poor spend much of

their time in whisky-houses. All the drapers wish that oatmeal was never

under one penny a pound. Though farms are exceedingly divided, yet few

of the people raise oatmeal enough to feed themselves; all go to market

for some. The weavers earn by coarse linens one shilling a day, by fine

one shilling and fourpence, and it is the same with the spinners--the

finer the yarn, the more they earn; but in common a woman earns about

threepence. For coarse linens they do not reckon the flax hurt by

standing for seed. Their own flax is much better than the imported.

This country is in general beautiful, but particularly so about the

straits that lead into Strangford Loch. From Mr. Savage's door the view

has great variety. To the left are tracts of hilly grounds, between

which the sea appears, and the vast chain of mountains in the Isle of Man

distinctly seen. In front the hills rise in a beautiful outline, and a

round hill projects like a promontory into the strait, and under it the

town amidst groups of trees; the scene is cheerful of itself, but

rendered doubly so by the ships and herring-boats sailing in and out. To

the right the view is crowned by the mountains of Mourne, which, wherever

seen, are of a character peculiarly bold, and even terrific. The shores

of the loch behind Mr. Savage's are bold ground, abounding with numerous

pleasing landscapes; the opposite coast, consisting of the woods and

improvements of Castle Ward, is a fine scenery.

Called at Lord Bangor's, at Castle Ward, to deliver a letter of

recommendations but unfortunately he was on a sailing party to England;

walked through the woods, etc. The house was built by the present lord.

It is a very handsome edifice, with two principal fronts, but not of the

same architecture, for the one is Gothic and the other Grecian. From the

temple is a fine wooded scene: you look down on a glen of wood, with a

winding hill quite covered with it, and which breaks the view of a large

bay. Over it appears the peninsula of Strangford, which consists of

enclosures and wood. To the right the bay is bounded by a fine grove,

which projects into it. A ship at anchor added much. The house well

situated above several rising woods; the whole scene a fine one. I

remarked in Lord Bangor's domains a fine field of turnips, but unhoed.

There were some cabbages also.

Belfast is a very well built town of brick, they having no stone quarry

in the neighbourhood. The streets are broad and straight, and the

inhabitants, amounting to about fifteen thousand, make it appear lively

and busy. The public buildings are not numerous nor very striking, but

over the exchange Lord Donegal is building an assembly room, sixty feet

long by thirty broad, and twenty-four high; a very elegant room. A

card-room adjoining, thirty by twenty-two, and twenty-two high; a

tea-room of the same size. His lordship is also building a new church,

which is one of the lightest and most pleasing I have anywhere seen: it

is seventy-four by fifty-four, and thirty high to the cornice, the aisles

separated by a double row of columns; nothing can be lighter or more

pleasing. The town belongs entirely to his lordship. Rent of it 2,000

pounds a year. His estate extends from Drumbridge, near Lisburn, to

Larne, twenty miles in a right line, and is ten broad. His royalties are

great, containing the whole of Loch Neagh, which is, I suppose, the

greatest of any subject in Europe. His eel fishery at Tome, and Port

New, on the river Ban, lets for 500 pounds a year; and all the fisheries

are his to the leap at Coleraine. The estate is supposed to be 31,000

pounds a year, the greatest at present in Ireland. Inishowen, in

Donegal, is his, and is 11,000 pounds of it. In Antrim, Lord Antrim's is

the most extensive property, being four baronies, and one hundred and

seventy-three thousand acres. The rent 8,000 pounds a year, but re-let

for 64,000 pounds a year, by tenants that have perpetuities, perhaps the

cruellest instance in the world of carelessness for the interests of

posterity. The present lord's father granted those leases.

I was informed that Mr. Isaac, near Belfast, had four acres, Irish

measure, of strong clay land not broken up for many years, which being

amply manured with lime rubbish and sea shells, and fallowed, was sown

with wheat, and yielded 87 pounds 9s. at 9s. to 12s. per cwt. Also that

Mr. Whitley, of Ballinderry, near Lisburn, a tenant of Lord Hertford's,

has rarely any wheat that does not yield him 18 pounds an acre. The

tillage of the neighbourhood for ten miles round is doubled in a few

years. Shall export one thousand tons of corn this year from Belfast,

most of it to the West Indies, particularly oats.

August 1. To Arthur Buntin's, Esq., near Belfast; the soil a stiff clay;

lets at old rents 10s., new one 18s., the town parks of that place 30s.

to 70s., ten miles round it 10s. to 20s., average 13s. A great deal of

flax sown, every countryman having a little, always on potato land, and

one ploughing: they usually sow each family a bushel of seed. Those who

have no land pay the farmers 20s. rent for the land a bushel of seed

sows, and always on potato land. They plant many more potatoes than they

eat, to supply the market at Belfast; manure for them with all their

dung, and some of them mix dung, earth, and lime, and this is found to do

better. There is much alabaster near the town, which is used for stucco

plaster; sells from 1 pound 1s. to 25s. a ton.

On my way to Antrim, viewed the bleach green of Mr. Thomas Sinclair; it

is the completest I have seen here. I understood that the bleaching

season lasted nine months, and that watering on the grass was quite left

off. Mr. Sinclair himself was not at home, or I should probably have

gained some intelligence that might have been useful.

Crossed the mountains by the new road to Antrim, and found them to the

summits to consist of exceeding good loam, and such as would improve into

good meadow. It is all thrown to the little adjoining farms, with very

little or any rent paid for it. They make no other use of it than

turning their cows on. Pity they do not improve; a work more profitable

than any they could undertake. All the way to Antrim lands let, at an

average, at 8s. The linen manufacture spreads over the whole country,

consequently the farms are very small, being nothing but patches for the

convenience of weavers.

From Antrim to Shanes Castle the road runs at the end of Loch Neagh,

commanding a noble view of it; of such an extent that the eye can see no

land over it. It appears like a perfect sea, and the shore is broken

sand-banks, which look so much like it, that one can hardly believe the

water to be fresh. Upon my arrival at the castle, I was most agreeably

saluted with four men hoeing a field of turnips round it, as a

preparation for grass. These were the first turnip-hoers I have seen in

Ireland, and I was more pleased than if I had seen four emperors.

The castle is beautifully situated on the lake, the windows commanding a

very noble view of it; and this has the finer effect, as the woods are

considerable, and form a fine accompaniment to this noble inland sea.

Rode from Mr. Lesly's to view the Giant's Causeway. It is certainly a

very great curiosity as an object for speculation upon the manner of its

formation; whether it owes its origin to fire, and is a species of lava,

or to crystallisation, or to whatever cause, is a point that has employed

the attention of men much more able to decide upon it than I am; and has

been so often treated, that nothing I could say could be new. When two

bits of these basalts are rubbed together quick, they emit a considerable

scent like burnt leather. The scenery of the Causeway, nor of the

adjacent mountains, is very magnificent, though the cliffs are bold; but

for a considerable distance there is a strong disposition in the rocks to

run into pentagonal cylinders, and even at a bridge by Mr. Lesly's is a

rock in which the same disposition is plainly visible. I believe the

Causeway would have struck me more if I had not seen the prints of

Staffa.

Returned to Lesly Hill, and on August 5th departed for Coleraine. There

the Right Hon. Mr. Jackson assisted me with the greatest politeness in

procuring the intelligence I wished about the salmon fishery, which is

the greatest in the kingdom, and viewed both fisheries, above and below

the town, very pleasantly situated on the river Ban. The salmon spawn in

all the rivers that run into the Ban about the beginning of August, and

as soon as they have done, swim to the sea, where they stay till January,

when they begin to return to the fresh water, and continue doing it till

August, in which voyage they are taken. The nets are set in the middle

of January, but by Act of Parliament no nets nor weirs can be kept down

after the 12th of August. All the fisheries on the river Ban let at

6,000 pounds a year. From the sea to the rock above Coleraine, where the

weirs are built, belongs to the London companies; the greatest part of

the rest to Lord Donegal. The eel fisheries let at 1,000 pounds a year,

and the salmon fisheries at Coleraine at 1,000 pounds. The eels make

periodical voyages, as the salmon, but instead of spawning in the fresh

water, they go to the sea to spawn, and the young fry return against the

stream; to enable them to do which with greater ease at the leap straw

ropes are hung in the water for them. When they return to sea they are

taken. Many of them weigh nine or ten pounds. The young salmon are

called _grawls_, and grow at a rate which I should suppose scarce any

fish commonly known equals; for within the year some of them will come to

sixteen and eighteen pounds, but in general ten or twelve pounds. Such

as escape the first year's fishery are salmon; and at two years old will

generally weigh twenty to twenty-five pounds. This year's fishery has

proved the greatest that ever was known, and they had the largest haul,

taking 1,452 salmon at one drag of one net. In the year 1758 they had

882, which was the next greatest haul. I had the pleasure of seeing 370

drawn in at once. They have this year taken 400 tons of fish; 200 sold

fresh at a penny and three-halfpence a pound, and two hundred salted, at

18 pounds and 20 pounds per ton, which are sent to London, Spain, and

Italy. The fishery employs eighty men, and the expenses in general are

calculated to equal the rent.

The linen manufacture is very general about Coleraine, coarse ten-hundred

linen. It is carried to Dublin in cars, one hundred and ten miles, at

5s. per cwt. in summer, and 7s. 6d. in winter.

From Limavady to Derry there is very little uncultivated land. Within

four miles of the latter, rents are from 12s. to 20s.; mountains paid for

but in the gross. Reached Derry at night, and waited two hours in the

dark before the ferry-boat came over for me.

August 7. In the morning went to the bishop's palace to leave my letters

of recommendation; for I was informed of my misfortune in his being out

of the kingdom. He was upon a voyage to Staffa, and had sent home some

of the stones of which it consists. They appeared perfectly to resemble

in shape, colour, and smell, those of the Giant's Causeway.

August 8. Left Derry, and took the road by Raphoe to the Rev. Mr.

Golding's at Clonleigh, who favoured me with much valuable information.

The view of Derry at the distance of a mile or two is the most

picturesque of any place I have seen. It seems to be built on an island

of bold land rising from the river, which spreads into a fine basin at

the foot of the town; the adjacent country hilly. The scene wants

nothing but wood to make it a perfect landscape.

August 11. Left Mount Charles, and passing through Donegal took the road

to Ballyshannon; came presently to several beautiful landscapes, swelling

hills cultivated, with the bay flowing up among them. They want nothing

but more wood, and are beautiful without it. Afterwards likewise to the

left they rise in various outlines, and die away insensibly into one

another. When the road leads to a full view of the bay of Donegal, these

smiling spots, above which the proud mountains rear their heads, are

numerous, the hillocks of almost regular circular forms. They are very

pleasing from form, verdure, and the water breaking in their vales.

Before I got to Ballyshannon, remarked a bleach green, which indicates

weaving in the neighbourhood. Viewed the salmon-leap at Ballyshannon,

which is let for 400 pounds a year. The scenery of it is very beautiful.

It is a fine fall, and the coast of the river very bold, consisting of

perpendicular rocks with grass of a beautiful verdure to the very edge.

It projects in little promontories, which grew longer as they approach

the sea, and open to give a fine view of the ocean. Before the fall in

the middle of the river, is a rocky island on which is a curing house,

instead of the turret of a ruined castle for which it seems formed. The

town prettily situated on the rising ground on each side of the river.

To Sir James Caldwell's. Crossing the bridge, stopped for a view of the

river, which is a very fine one, and was delighted to see the salmon

jump, to me an unusual sight; the water was perfectly alive with them.

Rising the hill, look back on the town; the situation beautiful, the

river presents a noble view. Come to Belleek, a little village with one

of the finest water-falls I remember anywhere to have seen; viewed it

from the bridge. The river in a very broad sheet comes from behind some

wood, and breaks over a bed of rocks, not perpendicular, but shelving in

various directions, and foams away under the arches, after which it grows

more silent and gives a beautiful bend under a rock crowned by a fine

bank of wood. Reached Castle Caldwell at night, where Sir James Caldwell

received me with a politeness and cordiality that will make me long

remember it with pleasure.

August 15. To Belleisle, the charming seat of the Earl of Ross. It is

an island in Loch Earne, of two hundred Irish acres, every part of it

hill, dale, and gentle declivities; it has a great deal of wood, much of

which is old, and forms both deep shades and open, cheerful groves. The

trees hang on the slopes, and consequently show themselves to the best

advantage. All this is exceedingly pretty, but it is rendered trebly so

by the situation. A reach of the lake passes before the house, which is

situated near the banks among some fine woods, which give both beauty and

shelter. This sheet of water, which is three miles over, is bounded in

front by an island of thick wood, and by a bold circular hill which is

his lordship's deer park; this hill is backed by a considerable mountain.

To the right are four or five fine clumps of dark wood--so many islands

which rise boldly from the lake; the water breaks in straits between

them, and forms a scene extremely picturesque. On the other side the

lake stretches behind wood in a strait which forms Belleisle. Lord Ross

has made walks round the island, from which there is a considerable

variety of prospect. A temple is built on a gentle hill, commanding the

view of the wooded islands above-mentioned, but the most pleasing

prospect of them is coming out from the grotto. They appear in an

uncommon beauty; two seem to join, and the water which flows between

takes the appearance of a fine bay, projecting deep into a dark wood:

nothing can be more beautiful. The park hill rises above them, and the

whole is backed with mountains. The home scene at your feet also is

pretty; a lawn scattered with trees that forms the margin of the lake,

closing gradually in a thick wood of tall trees, above the tops of which

is a distant view of Cultiegh mountain, which is there seen in its

proudest solemnity.

They plough all with horses three or four in a plough, and all abreast.

Here let it be remarked that they very commonly plough and harrow with

their horses drawing by the tail: it is done every season. Nothing can

put them beside this, and they insist that, take a horse tired in traces

and put him to work by the tail, he will draw better: quite fresh again.

Indignant reader, this is no jest of mine, but cruel, stubborn, barbarous

truth. It is so all over Cavan.

At Clonells, near Castlerea, lives O'Connor, the direct descendant of

Roderick O'Connor, who was king of Connaught six or seven hundred years

ago; there is a monument of him in Roscommon Church, with his sceptre,

etc. I was told as a certainty that this family were here long before

the coming of the Milesians. Their possessions, formerly so great, are

reduced to three or four hundred pounds a year, the family having fared

in the revolutions of so many ages much worse than the O'Niels and

O'Briens. The common people pay him the greatest respect, and send him

presents of cattle, etc., upon various occasions. They consider him as

the prince of a people involved in one common ruin.

Another great family in Connaught is Macdermot, who calls himself Prince

of Coolavin. He lives at Coolavin, in Sligo, and though he has not above

one hundred pounds a year, will not admit his children to sit down in his

presence. This was certainly the case with his father, and some assured

me even with the present chief. Lord Kingsborough, Mr. Ponsonby, Mr.

O'Hara, Mr. Sandford, etc., came to see him, and his address was curious:

"O'Hara, you are welcome! Sandford, I am glad to see your mother's son"

(his mother was an O'Brien): "as to the rest of ye, come in as ye can."

Mr. O'Hara, of Nymphsfield, is in possession of a considerable estate in

Sligo, which is the remains of great possessions they had in that

country. He is one of the few descendants of the Milesian race.

To Lord Kingston's, to whom I had a letter, but unfortunately for me he

was at Spa. Walked down to Longford Hill to view the lake. It is one of

the most delicious scenes I ever beheld; a lake of five miles by four,

which fills the bottom of a gentle valley almost of a circular form,

bounded very boldly by the mountains. Those to the left rise in a noble

slope; they lower rather in front, and let in a view of Strand mountain,

near Sligo, above twenty miles off. To the right you look over a small

part of a bog to a large extent of cultivated hill, with the blue

mountains beyond. Were this little piece of bog planted, the view would

be more complete; the hill on which you stand has a foliage of well-grown

trees, which form the southern shore. You look down on six islands, all

wooded, and on a fine promontory to the left, which shoots far into the

lake. Nothing can be more pleasing than their uncommon variety. The

first is small (Rock Island), tufted with trees, under the shade of which

is an ancient building, once the residence of Macdermot. The next a

mixture of lawn and wood. The third, which appears to join this, is of a

darker shade, yet not so thick but you can see the bright lawn under the

trees. House Island is one fine, thick wood, which admits not a gleam of

light, a contrast to the silver bosom of the lake. Church Island is at a

greater distance; this is also a clump, and rises boldly. Rock Island is

of wood; it opens in the centre and shows a lawn with a building on it.

It is impossible to imagine a more pleasing and cheerful scene. Passed

the chapel to Smithfield Hill, which is a fine rising ground, quite

surrounded with plantations. From hence the view is changed; here the

promontory appears very bold, and over its neck you see another wooded

island in a most picturesque situation. Nothing can be more picturesque

than Rock Island, its ruin overhung with ivy. The other islands assume

fresh and varied outlines, and form upon the whole one of the most

luxuriant scenes I have met with.

The views of the lake and environs are very fine as you go to Boyle; the

woods unite into a large mass, and contrast the bright sheet of water

with their dark shades.

The lands about Kingston are very fine, a rich, dry, yellow, sandy loam,

the finest soil that I have seen in Ireland; all grass, and covered with

very fine bullocks, cows, and sheep. The farms rise to five hundred

acres, and are generally in divisions, parted by stone walls, for oxen,

cows, young cattle, and sheep separate. Some of the lands will carry an

ox and a wether per acre; rents, 15s. to 20s.

Dined at Boyle, and took the road to Ballymoat. Crossed an immense

mountainy bog, where I stopped and made inquiries; found that it was ten

miles long, and three and a half over, containing thirty-five square

miles; that limestone quarries were around and in it, and limestone

gravel in many places to be found, and used in the lands that join it.

In addition to this I may add that there is a great road crossing it.

Thirty-five miles are twenty-two thousand four hundred acres. What an

immense field of improvement! Nothing would be easier than to drain it

(vast tracts of land have such a fall), that not a drop of water could

remain. These hilly bogs are extremely different from any I have seen in

England. In the moors in the north the hills and mountains are all

covered with heath, like the Irish bogs, but they are of various soils,

gravel, shingle, moor, etc., and boggy only in spots, but the Irish bog

hills are all pure bog to a great depth without the least variation of

soil; and the bog being of a hilly form, is a proof that it is a growing

vegetable mass, and not owing merely to stagnant water. Sir Laurence

Dundass is the principal proprietor of this.

Reached Ballymoat in the evening, the residence of the Hon. Mr.

Fitzmaurice, where I expected great pleasure in viewing a manufactory, of

which I heard much since I came to Ireland. He was so kind as to give me

the following account of it in the most liberal manner:--

"Twenty years ago the late Lord Shelburne came to Ballymoat, a wild

uncultivated region without industry or civility, and the people all

Roman Catholics, without an atom of a manufacture, not even spinning. In

order to change this state of things, his lordship contracted with people

in the north to bring Protestant weavers and establish a manufactory, as

the only means of making the change he wished. This was done, but

falling into the hands of rascals he lost 5,000 pounds by the business,

with only seventeen Protestant families and twenty-six or twenty-seven

looms established for it. Upon his death Lady Shelburne wished to carry

his scheme into execution, and to do it gave much encouragement to Mr.

Wakefield, the great Irish factor in London, by granting advantageous

leases under the contract of building and colonising by weavers from the

north, and carrying on the manufactory. He found about twenty looms

working upon their own account, and made a considerable progress in this

for five years, raising several buildings, cottages for the weavers, and

was going on as well as the variety of his business would admit,

employing sixty looms. He then died, when a stand was made to all the

works for a year, in which everything went much to ruin. Lady Shelburne

then employed a new manager to carry on the manufacture upon his own

account, giving him very profitable grants of lands to encourage him to

do it with spirit. He continued for five years, employing sixty looms

also, but his circumstances failing, a fresh stop was put to the work.

"Then it was that Mr. Fitzmaurice, in the year 1774, determined to exert

himself in pushing on a manufactory which promised to be of such

essential service to the whole country. To do this with effect, he saw

that it was necessary to take it entirely into his own hands. He could

lend money to the manager to enable him to go on, but that would be at

best hazardous, and could never do it in the complete manner in which he

wished to establish it. In this period of consideration, Mr. Fitzmaurice

was advised by his friends never to engage in so complex a business as a

manufacture, in which he must of necessity become a merchant, also engage

in all the hazard, irksomeness, etc., of commerce, so totally different

from his birth, education, ideas, and pursuits; but tired with the

inactivity of common life, he determined not only to turn manufacturer,

but to carry on the business in the most spirited and vigorous manner

that was possible. In the first place he took every means of making

himself a complete master of the business; he went through various

manufactures, inquired into the minutiae, and took every measure to know

it to the bottom. This he did so repeatedly and with such attention in

the whole progress, from spinning to bleaching and selling, that he

became as thorough a master of it as an experienced manager; he has wove

linen, and done every part of the business with his own hands. As he

determined to have the works complete, he took Mr. Stansfield the

engineer, so well known for his improved saw-mills, into his pay. He

sent him over to Ballymoat in the winter of 1774, in order to erect the

machinery of a bleach mill upon the very best construction; he went to

all the great mills in the north of Ireland to inspect them, to remark

their deficiencies, that they might be improved in the mills he intended

to erect. This knowledge being gained, the work was begun, and as water

was necessary, a great basin was formed by a dam across a valley, by

which means thirty-four acres were floated, to serve as a reservoir for

dry seasons, to secure plenty at all times."

August 30. Rode to Rosshill, four miles off, a headland that projects

into the Bay of Newport, from which there is a most beautiful view of the

bay on both sides; I counted thirty islands very distinctly, all of them

cultivated under corn and potatoes, or pastured by cattle. At a distance

Clare rises in a very bold and picturesque style; on the left Crow

Patrick, and to the right other mountains. It is a view that wants

nothing but wood.

September 5. To Drumoland, the seat of Sir Lucius O'Brien, in the county

of Clare, a gentleman who had been repeatedly assiduous to procure me

every sort of information. I should remark, as I have now left Galway,

that that county, from entering it in the road to Tuam till leaving it

to-day, has been, upon the whole, inferior to most of the parts I have

travelled in Ireland in point of beauty: there are not mountains of a

magnitude to make the view striking. It is perfectly free from woods,

and even trees, except about gentlemen's houses, nor has it a variety in

its face. I do not, however, speak without exception; I passed some

tracts which are cheerful. Drumoland has a pleasing variety of grounds

about the house; it stands on a hill gently rising from a lake of

twenty-four acres, in the middle of a noble wood of oak, ash, poplar,

etc.; three beautiful hills rise above, over which the plantations spread

in a varied manner; and these hills command very fine views of the great

rivers Fergus and Shannon at their junction, being each of them a league

wide.

There is a view of the Shannon from Limerick to Foynes Island, which is

thirty miles, with all its bays, bends, islands, and fertile shores. It

is from one to three miles broad, a most noble river, deserving regal

navies for its ornament, or, what are better, fleets of merchantmen, the

cheerful signs of far-extended commerce, instead of a few miserable

fishing-boats, the only canvas that swelled upon the scene; but the want

of commerce in her ports is the misfortune not the fault of

Ireland--thanks for the deficiency to that illiberal spirit of trading

jealousy, which has at times actuated and disgraced so many nations. The

prospect has a noble outline in the bold mountains of Tipperary, Cork,

Limerick, and Kerry. The whole view magnificent.

At the foot of this hill is the castle of Bunratty, a very large edifice,

the seat of the O'Briens, princes of Thomond; it stands on the bank of a

river, which falls into the Shannon near it. About this castle and that

of Rosmanagher the land is the best in the county of Clare; it is worth 1

pound 13s. an acre, and fats a bullock per acre in summer, besides winter

feed.

To Limerick, through a cheerful country, on the banks of the river, in a

vale surrounded by distant mountains. That city is very finely situated,

partly on an island formed by the Shannon. The new part, called Newtown

Pery, from Mr. Pery the speaker, who owns a considerable part of the

city, and represents it in Parliament, is well built. The houses are new

ones, of brick, large, and in right lines. There is a communication with

the rest of the town by a handsome bridge of three large arches erected

at Mr. Pery's expense. Here are docks, quays, and a custom-house, which

is a good building, faces the river, and on the opposite banks is a large

quadrangular one, the house of industry. This part of Limerick is very

cheerful and agreeable, and carries all the marks of a flourishing place.

The exports of this port are beef, pork, butter, hides, and rape-seed.

The imports are rum, sugar, timber, tobacco, wines, coals, bark, salt,

etc. The customs and excise, about sixteen years ago, amounted to 16,000

pounds, at present 32,000 pounds, and rather more four or five years ago.

Whole revenue 1751 16,000 pounds

" " 1775 51,000 pounds

_Revenue of the Port of Limerick. Year ending_

March 25, 1759 20,494 pounds

" 1760 29,197

" 1761 20,727

" 1762 20,650

" 1763 20,525

" 1764 32,635

" 1765 31,099

_Com. Jour_., vol. xiv., p. 71.

_Price of Provisions_.

Wheat, 1s. 1d. a stone Wild ducks, 20d. to 2s. a couple.

Barley and oats, 5.75d. to 6d. Teal, 10d. a couple.

Scotch coals, 18s.; Whitehaven, Plover, 6d. a couple.

20s.

A boat-load of turf, 20 tons, Widgeon, 10d. ditto.

45s.

Salmon, three-halfpence. Hares, 1s. each, commonly sold all

year.

Trout, 2d., very fine, per lb. Woodcocks, 20d. to 2s. 2d. a brace.

Eels, 2d. a pound. Oysters, 4d. to 1s. a 100.

Rabbits, 8d. a couple. Lobsters, 1s. to 1s. 6d., if good.

Land sells at twenty years' purchase. Rents were at the highest in 1765;

fell since, but in four years have fallen 8s. to 10s. an acre about

Limerick. They are at a stand at present, owing to the high price of

provisions from pasture. The number of people in Limerick is computed at

thirty-two thousand; it is exceedingly populous for the size, the chief

street quite crowded; many sedan chairs in town, and some hackney

chaises. Assemblies the year round, in a new assembly-house built for

the purpose, and plays and concerts common.

Upon the whole, Limerick must be a very gay place, but when the usual

number of troops are in town much more so. To show the general expenses

of living, I was told of a person's keeping a carriage, four horses,

three men, three maids, a good table, a wife, three children, and a

nurse, and all for 500 pounds a year:

l. s. d. l. s. d.

A footman 4 4 0 to 6 6 0

A professed 6 6 0

woman-cook

A house-maid 3 0 0

A kitchen-maid 2 0 0

A butler 10 0 0 to 12 0 0

A barrel of beef or pork, 200lb. weight. Vessels of 400 tons can come up

with spring tides, which rise fourteen feet.

September 9. To Castle Oliver; various country, not so rich to

appearance as the Caucasus, being fed bare; much hilly sheep walk, and

for a considerable way a full third of it potatoes and corn: no sign of

depopulation. Just before I got to the hills a field of ragwort

(_senesio jacoboea_) buried the cows. The first hill of Castle Oliver

interesting. After rising a mountain so high that no one could think of

any house, you come in view of a vale, quite filled with fine woods,

fields margined with trees, and hedge plantations climbing up the

mountains. Having engaged myself to Mr. Oliver, to return from Killarney

by his house, as he was confined to Limerick by the assizes, I shall omit

saying anything of it at present.

September 16. To Cove by water, from Mr. Trent's quay. The view of Lota

is charming; a fine rising lawn from the water, with noble spreading

woods reaching on each side; the house a very pleasing front, with lawn

shooting into the woods. The river forms a creek between two hills, one

Lota, the other opening to another hill of inclosures well wooded. As

the boat leaves the shore nothing can be finer than the view behind us;

the back woods of Lota, the house and lawn, and the high bold inclosures

towards Cork, form the finest shore imaginable, leading to Cork, the city

appearing in full view, Dunkettle wooded inclosures, a fine sweep of

hill, joining Mr. Hoare's at Factory Hill, whose woods have a beautiful

effect. Dunkettle House almost lost in a wood. As we advance, the woods

of Lota and Dunkettle unite in one fine mass. The sheet of water, the

rising lawns, the house in the most beautiful situation imaginable, with

more woods above it than lawns below it, the west shore of Loch Mahon, a

very fine rising hill cut into inclosures but without wood, land-locked

on every side with high lands, scattered with inclosures, woods, seats,

etc., with every cheerful circumstance of lively commerce, have

altogether a great effect. Advancing to Passage the shores are various,

and the scenery enlivened by fourscore sail of large ships; the little

port of Passage at the water's edge, with the hills rising boldly above

it. The channel narrows between the great island and the hills of

Passage. The shores bold, and the ships scattered about them, with the

inclosures hanging behind the masts and yards picturesque. Passing the

straits a new basin of the harbour opens, surrounded with high lands.

Monkstown Castle on the hill to the right, and the grounds of

Ballybricken, a beautiful intermixed scene of wood and lawn. The high

shore of the harbour's mouth opens gradually. The whole scene is

land-locked. The first view of Haulbowline Island and Spike Island, high

rocky lands, with the channel opening to Cove, where are a fleet of ships

at anchor, and Rostellan, Lord Inchiquin's house, backed with hills, a

scenery that wants nothing but the accompaniment of wood. The view of

Ballybricken changes; it now appears to be unfortunately cut into right

lines. Arrived at the ship at Cove; in the evening returned, leaving Mr.

Jefferys and family on board for a voyage to Havre, in their way to

Paris.

Dunkettle is one of the most beautiful places I have seen in Ireland. It

is a hill of some hundred acres broken into a great variety of ground by

gentle declivities, with everywhere an undulating outline and the whole

varied by a considerable quantity of wood, which in some places is thick

enough to take the appearance of close groves, in others spreads into

scattered thickets and a variety of single groups. This hill, or rather

cluster of hills, is surrounded on one side by a reach of Cork Harbour,

over which it looks in the most advantageous manner; and on the other by

an irriguous vale, through which flows the river Glanmire; the opposite

shore of that river has every variety that can unite to form pleasing

landscapes for the views from Dunkettle grounds; in some places narrow

glens, the bottoms of which are quite filled with water, and the steep

banks covered with thick woods that spread a deep shade; in others the

vale opens to form the site of a pretty cheerful village, overhung by

hill and wood: here the shore rises gradually into large inclosures,

which spread over the hills, stretching beyond each other; and there the

vale melts again into a milder variety of fields. A hill thus situated,

and consisting in itself of so much variety of surface, must necessarily

command many pleasing views. To enjoy these to the better advantage, Mr.

Trent (than whom no one has a better taste, both to discover and describe

the beauties of natural scenes) is making a walk around the whole, which

is to bend to the inequalities of the ground, so as to take the principal

points in view. The whole is so beautiful, that if I were to make the

regular detour, the description might be too minute; but there are some

points which gave me so much pleasure that I know not how to avoid

recommending to others that travel this way to taste the same

satisfaction. From the upper part of the orchard you look down a part of

the river, where it opens into a regular basin, one corner stretching up

to Cork, lost behind the hill of Lota, the lawn of which breaks on the

swelling hills among the woods; the house obscured, and therefore seeming

a part of your home scene; the losing the river behind the beautiful

projection of Lota is more pleasing than can be expressed. The other

reach, leading to the harbour's mouth, is half hidden by the trees, which

margin the foot of the hill on which you stand; in front a noble range of

cultivated hills, the inclosures broken by slight spots of wood, and

prettily varied with houses, without being so crowded as to take off the

rural effect. The scene is not only beautiful in those common

circumstances which form a landscape, but is alive with the cheerfulness

of ships and boats perpetually moving. Upon the whole, it is one of the

most luxuriant prospects I have anywhere seen. Leaving the orchard, pass

on the brow of a hill which forms the bank of the river of Glanmire,

commanding the opposite woods of Lota in all their beauty. Rise to the

top of the high hill which joins the deer park, and exhibits a scene

equally extensive and beautiful; you look down on a vale which winds

almost around at your feet, finishing to the left in Cork river, which

here takes the appearance of a lake, bounded by wood and hills, and sunk

in the bottom of a vale, in a style which painting cannot imitate; the

opposite hills of Lota, wood, and lawn, seem formed as objects for this

point of view: at your feet a hill rises out of the vale, with higher

ones around it, the margins scattered wood; to the right, towards

Riverstown, a vale; the whole backed by cultivated hills to Kallahan's

field. Milder scenes follow: a bird's-eye view of a small vale sunk at

your feet, through which the river flows; a bridge of several arches

unites two parts of a beautiful village, the meadow grounds of which rise

gently, a varied surface of wood and lawn, to the hills of Riverstown,

the whole surrounded by delicious sweeps of cultivated hills. To the

left a wooded glen rising from the vale to the horizon, the scenery

sequestered, but pleasing; the oak wood which hangs on the deer-park

hills, an addition. Down to the brow of the hill, where it hangs over

the river, a picturesque interesting spot. The inclosures of the

opposite bank hang beautifully to the eye, and the wooded glen winds up

the hill. Returning to the house I was conducted to the hill, where the

grounds slope off to the river of Cork, which opens to view in noble

reaches of a magnitude that fills the eye and the imagination; a whole

country of a character truly magnificent, and behind the winding vale

which leads between a series of hills to Glanmire.

Pictures at Dunkettle.

A St. Michael, etc., the subject confused, by Michael Angelo. A St.

Francis on wood, a large original of Guido. A St. Cecilia, original of

Romanelli. An Assumption of the Virgin, by L. Carracci. A Quaker's

meeting, of above fifty figures, by Egbert Hemskerk. A sea view and rock

piece, by Vernet. A small flagellation, by Sebastian del Piombo. A

Madonna and Child, small, by Rubens. The Crucifixion, many figures in

miniature, excellent, though the master is unknown. An excellent copy of

the famous Danae of Titian, at Monte Cavallo, near Naples, by Cioffi of

Naples. Another of the Venus of Titian, at the Tribuna in Florence.

Another of Venus blinding Cupid, by Titian, at the Palazzo Borghese in

Rome. Another of great merit of the Madonna della Sedia of Raphael, at

the Palazzo Pitti in Florence, by Stirn, a German, lately at Rome.

Another of a Holy Family, from Raphael, of which there are said to be

three originals, one at the king's palace in Naples, one in the Palais

Royal in Paris, and the third in the collection of Lord Exeter, lately

purchased at Rome. A portrait of Sir Patrick Trent, by Sir P. Lely. An

excellent portrait of a person unknown, by Dahl.

September 17. To Castlemartyr, the seat of the Earl of Shannon, one of

the most distinguished improvers in Ireland; in whom I found the most

earnest desire to give me every species of information, with a knowledge

and ability which enabled him to do it most effectually. Passed through

Middleton, a well-built place, which belongs to the noble lord to whom it

gives title. Castlemartyr is an old house, but much added to by the

present earl; he has built, besides other rooms, a dining one thirty-two

feet long by twenty-two broad, and a drawing one, the best rooms I have

seen in Ireland, a double cube of twenty-five feet, being fifty long,

twenty-five broad, and twenty-five high. The grounds about the house are

very well laid out; much wood well grown, considerable lawns, a river

made to wind through them in a beautiful manner, an old castle so

perfectly covered with ivy as to be a picturesque object. A winding walk

leads for a considerable distance along the banks of this river, and

presents several pleasing landscapes.

From Rostellan to Lota, the seat of Frederick Rogers, Esq. I had before

seen it in the highest perfection from the water going from Dunkettle to

Cove, and from the grounds of Dunkettle. Mrs. Rogers was so obliging as

to show me the back grounds, which are admirably wooded, and of a fine

varied surface.

Got to Cork in the evening, and waited on the Dean, who received me with

the most flattering attention. Cork is one of the most populous places I

have ever been in; it was market-day, and I could scarce drive through

the streets, they were so amazingly thronged: on the other days the

number is very great. I should suppose it must resemble a Dutch town,

for there are many canals in the streets, with quays before the houses.

The best built part is Morrison's Island, which promises well; the old

part of the town is very close and dirty. As to its commerce, the

following particulars I owe to Robert Gordon, Esq., the surveyor-general:

_Average of Nineteen Years' Export, ending March_ 24, 1773.

Hides, at 1 pounds each 64,000 pounds

Bay and woollen yarn 294,000

Butter, at 30s. per cwt. from 56s. to 180,000

72s.

Beef, at 20s. a barrel 291,970

Camlets, serges, etc. 40,000

Candles 34,220

Soap 20,000

Tallow 20,000

Herrings, 18 to 35,000l. all their 21,000

own

Glue 20 to 25,000 22,000

Pork 64,000

Wool to England 14,000

Small exports, Gottenburg herrings, 35,000

horns, hoofs, etc., feather-beds,

palliasses, feathers, etc.

1,100,190

Average prices of the nineteen years on the custom books. All exports on

those books are rated at the value of the reign of Charles II.; but the

imports have always 10 per cent. on the sworn price added to them.

Seventy to eighty sail of ships belong to Cork. Average of ships that

entered that port in those nineteen years, eight hundred and seventy-two

per annum. The number of people at Cork mustered by the clergy by

hearth-money, and by the number of houses, payments to minister, average

of the three, sixty-seven thousand souls, if taken before the 1st of

September, after that twenty thousand increased. There are seven hundred

coopers in the town. Barrels all of oak or beech, all from America: the

latter for herrings, now from Gottenburg and Norway. The excise of Cork

now no more than in Charles the Second's reign. Ridiculous!

Cork old duties, in 1751, 62,000 pounds

produced

Now the same 140,000

Bullocks, 16,000 head, 32,000 barrels; 41,000 hogs, 20,000 barrels.

Butter, 22,000 firkins of half a hundredweight each, both increase this

year, the whole being

240,000 firkins of butter,

120,000 barrels of beef.

Export of woollen yarn from Cork, 300,000 pounds a year in the Irish

market. No wool smuggled, or at least very little. The wool comes to

Cork, etc., and is delivered out to combers, who make it into balls.

These balls are bought up by the French agents at a vast price, and

exported; but even this does not amount to 40,000 pounds a year.

Prices.

Beef, 21s. per cwt., never so high by 2s. 6d.; pork, 30s., never higher

than 18s. 6d., owing to the army demand. Slaughter dung, 8d. for a horse

load. Country labourer, 6d.; about town, 10d. Milk, seven pints a

penny. Coals, 3s. 8d. to 5s. a barrel, six of which make a ton. Eggs,

four a penny.

Cork labourers. Cellar ones, twenty thousand; have 1s. 1d. a day, and as

much bread, beef, and beer as they can eat and drink, and seven pounds of

offals a week for their families. Rent for their house, 40s. Masons'

and carpenters' labourers, 10d. a day. Sailors now 3 pounds a month and

provisions: before the American war, 28s. Porters and coal-heavers paid

by the great. State of the poor people in general incomparably better

off than they were twenty years ago. There are imported eighteen

thousand barrels annually of Scotch herrings, at 18s. a barrel. The salt

for the beef trade comes from Lisbon, St. Ube's, etc. The salt for the

fish trade from Rochelle. For butter English and Irish.

Particulars of the woollen fabrics of the county of Cork received from a

manufacturer. The woollen trade, serges and camlets, ratteens, friezes,

druggets, and narrow cloths, the last they make to 10s. and 12s. a yard;

if they might export to 8s. they are very clear that they could get a

great trade for the woollen manufactures of Cork. The wool comes from

Galway and Roscommon, combed here by combers, who earn 8s. to 10s. a

week, into balls of twenty-four ounces, which is spun into worsteds of

twelve skeins to the ball, and exported to Yarmouth for Norwich; the

export price, 30 pounds a pack to 33 pounds, never before so high;

average of them, 26 pounds to 30 pounds. Some they work up at home into

serges, stuffs, and camlets; the serges at 12d. a yard, thirty-four

inches wide; the stuffs sixteen inches, at 18d., the camlets at 9.5d. to

13d.; the spinners at 9d. a ball, one in a week; or a ball and half 12d.

a week, and attend the family besides; this is done most in Waterford and

Kerry, particularly near Killarney; the weavers earn 1s. a day on an

average. Full three-fourths of the wool is exported in yarn, and only

one-fourth worth worked up. Half the wool of Ireland is combed in the

county of Cork.

A very great manufacture of ratteens at Carrick-on-Suir; the bay worsted

is for serges, shalloons, etc. Woollen yarn for coarse cloths, which

latter have been lost for some years, owing to the high price of wool.

The bay export has declined since 1770, which declension is owing to the

high price of wool.

No wool smuggled, not even from Kerry; not a sloop's cargo in twenty

years, the price too high; the declension has been considerable. For

every eighty-six packs that are exported, a licence from the Lord

Lieutenant, for which 20 pounds is paid.

From the Act of the last sessions of Great Britain for exporting woollen

goods for the troops in the pay of Ireland, Mr. Abraham Lane, of Cork,

established a new manufacture of army clothing for that purpose, which is

the first at Cork, and pays 40 pounds a week in labour only. Upon the

whole there has been no increase of woollen manufacture within twenty

years. Is clearly of opinion that many fabrics might be worked up here

much cheaper than in France, of cloths that the French have beat the

English out of; these are, particularly, broadcloths of one yard and half

yard wide, from 3s. to 6s. 6d. a yard for the Levant trade. Friezes

which are now supplied from Carcassone in Languedoc. Friezes, of

twenty-four to twenty-seven inches, at 10d. to 13d. a yard. Flannels,

twenty-seven to thirty-six, from 7d. to 14d. Serges of twenty-seven to

thirty-six inches, at 7d. to 12d. a yard; these would work up the coarse

wool. At Ballynasloe Fair, in July, 200,000 pounds a year bought in

wool. There is a manufactory of knit-stocking by the common women about

Cork, for eight or ten miles around; the yarn from 12d. to 18d. a pair,

and the worsted from 16d. to 20d., and earn from 12d. to 18d. a week.

Besides their own consumption, great quantities are sent to the north of

Ireland.

All the weavers in the country are confined to towns, have no land, but

small gardens. Bandle, or narrow linen, for home consumption, is made in

the western part of the county. Generally speaking, the circumstances of

all the manufacturing poor are better than they were twenty years ago.

The manufactures have not declined, though the exportation has, owing to

the increased home consumptions. Bandon was once the seat of the stuff,

camlet, and shag manufacture, but has in seven years declined above

three-fourths. Have changed it for the manufacture of coarse green

linens, for the London market, from 6d. to 9d. a yard, twenty-seven

inches wide; but the number of manufactures in general much lessened.

Rode to the mouth of Cork Harbour; the grounds about it are all fine,

bold, and varied, but so bare of trees, that there is not a single view

but what pains one in the want of wood. Rents of the tract south of the

river Caragoline, from 5s. to 30s.; average, 10s. Not one man in five

has a cow, but generally from one to four acres, upon which they have

potatoes, and five or six sheep, which they milk, and spin their wool.

Labour 5d. in winter, 6d. in summer; many of them for three months in the

year live on potatoes and water, the rest of it they have a good deal of

fish. But it is remarked, at Kinsale, that when sprats are most

plentiful, diseases are most common. Rent for a mere cabin, 10s. Much

paring and burning; paring twenty-eight men a day, sow wheat on it and

then potatoes; get great crops. The soil a sharp, stony land; no

limestone south of the above river. Manure for potatoes, with sea-weed,

for 26s., which gives good crops, but lasts only one year. Sea-sand much

used; no shells in it. Farms rise to two or three hundred acres, but are

hired in partnership.

Before I quit the environs of Cork, I must remark that the country on the

harbour I think preferable, in many respects, for a residence, to

anything I have seen in Ireland. First, it is the most southerly part of

the kingdom. Second, there are very great beauties of prospect. Third,

by much the most animated, busy scene of shipping in all Ireland, and

consequently, fourth, a ready price for every product. Fifth, great

plenty of excellent fish and wild fowl. Sixth, the neighbourhood of a

great city for objects of convenience.

September 25. Took the road to Nedeen, through the wildest region of

mountains that I remember to have seen; it is a dreary but an interesting

road. The various horrid, grotesque, and unusual forms in which the

mountains rise and the rocks bulge; the immense height of some distant

heads, which rear above all the nearer scenes, the torrents roaring in

the vales, and breaking down the mountain sides, with here and there a

wretched cabin, and a spot of culture yielding surprise to find human

beings the inhabitants of such a scene of wildness, altogether keep the

traveller's mind in an agitation and suspense. These rocks and mountains

are many of them no otherwise improvable than by planting, for which,

however, they are exceedingly well adapted.

Sir John Colthurst was so obliging as to send half a dozen labourers with

me, to help my chaise up a mountain side, of which he gave a formidable

account: in truth it deserved it. The road leads directly against a

mountain ridge, and those who made it were so incredibly stupid, that

they kept the straight line up the hill, instead of turning aside to the

right to wind around a projection of it. The path of the road is worn by

torrents into a channel, which is blocked up in places by huge fragments,

so that it would be a horrid road on a level; but on a hill so steep,

that the best path would be difficult to ascend--it may be supposed

terrible: the labourers, two passing strangers, and my servant, could

with difficulty get the chaise up. It is much to be regretted that the

direction of the road is not changed, as all the rest from Cork to Nedeen

is good enough. For a few miles towards the latter place the country is

flat on the river Kenmare, much of it good, and under grass or corn.

Passed Mr. Orpine's at Ardtilly, and another of the same name at

Killowen.

Nedeen is a little town, very well situated, on the noble river Kenmare,

where ships of one hundred and fifty tons may come up; there are but

three or four good houses. Lord Shelburne, to whom the place belongs,

has built one for his agent. There is a vale of good land, which is here

from a mile and a half to a mile broad; and to the north and south, great

ridges of mountains said to be full of mines.

At Nedeen, Lord Shelburne had taken care to have me well informed by his

people in that country, which belongs for the greatest part to himself,

he has above one hundred and fifty thousand Irish acres in Kerry; the

greatest part of the barony of Glanrought belongs to him, most of

Dunkerron and Ivragh. The country is all a region of mountains, inclosed

by a vale of flat land on the river; the mountains to the south come to

the water's edge, with but few variations, the principal of which is

Ardee, a farm of Lord Shelburne's to the north of the river, the flat

land is one-half to three-quarters of a mile broad. The mountains to the

south reach to Bear-haven, and those to the north to Dingle Bay; the soil

is extremely various; to the south of the river all are sandstones, and

the hills loam, stone, gravel, and bog. To the north there is a slip of

limestone land, from Kilgarvon to Cabbina-cush, that is six miles east of

Nedeen, and three to the west, but is not more than a quarter of a mile

broad, the rest, including the mountains, all sandstone. As to its

rents, it is very difficult to tell what they are; for land is let by the

plough-land and gineve, twelve gineves to the plough-land; but the latter

denomination is not of any particular quantity, for no two plough-lands

are the same. The size of farms is various, from forty acres to one

thousand; less quantities go with cabins, and some farms are taken by

labourers in partnership.

Soon entered the wildest and most romantic country I had anywhere seen; a

region of steep rocks and mountains which continued for nine or ten

miles, till I came in view of Mucruss. There is something magnificently

wild in this stupendous scenery, formed to impress the mind with a

certain species of terror. All this tract has a rude and savage air, but

parts of it are strikingly interesting; the mountains are bare and rocky,

and of a great magnitude; the vales are rocky glens, where a mountain

stream tumbles along the roughest bed imaginable, and receives many

torrents, pouring from clefts, half overhung with shrubby wood; some of

these streams are seen, and the roar of others heard, but hid by vast

masses of rock. Immense fragments, torn from the precipices by storms

and torrents, are tumbled in the wildest confusion, and seem to hang

rather than rest upon projecting precipices. Upon some of these

fragments of rock, perfectly detached from the soil, except by the side

on which they lie, are beds of black turf, with luxuriant crops of heath,

etc., which appeared very curious to me, having nowhere seen the like;

and I observed very high in the mountains--much higher than any

cultivation is at present, on the right hand--flat and cleared spaces of

good grass among the ridges of rock, which had probably been cultivated,

and proved that these mountains were not incapable from climate of being

applied to useful purposes.

From one of these heights I looked forward to the Lake of Killarney at a

considerable distance, and backward to the river Kenmare; came in view of

a small part of the upper lake, spotted with several islands, and

surrounded by the most tremendous mountains that can be imagined, of an

aspect savage and dreadful. From this scene of wild magnificence, I

broke at once upon all the glories of Killarney; from an elevated point

of view I looked down on a considerable part of the lake, which gave me a

specimen of what I might expect. The water you command (which, however,

is only a part of the lake) appears a basin of two or three miles round;

to the left it is inclosed by the mountains you have passed, particularly

by the Turk, whose outline is uncommonly noble, and joins a range of

others, that form the most magnificent shore in the world: on the other

side is a rising scenery of cultivated hills, and Lord Kenmare's park and

woods; the end of the lake at your feet is formed by the root of

Mangerton, on whose side the road leads. From hence I looked down on a

pretty range of inclosures on the lake, and the woods and lawns of

Mucruss, forming a large promontory of thick wood, shooting far into the

lake. The most active fancy can sketch nothing in addition. Islands of

wood beyond seem to join it, and reaches of the lake, breaking partly

between, give the most lively intermixture of water; six or seven isles

and islets form an accompaniment: some are rocky, but with a slight

vegetation, others contain groups of trees, and the whole thrown into

forms, which would furnish new ideas to a painter. Farther is a chain of

wooded islands, which also appear to join the mainland, with an offspring

of lesser ones scattered around.

Arrived at Mr. Herbert's at Mucruss, to whose friendly attention I owed

my succeeding pleasure. There have been so many descriptions of

Killarney written by gentlemen who have resided some time there, and seen

it at every season, that for a passing traveller to attempt the like

would be in vain; for this reason I shall give the mere journal of the

remarks I made on the spot, in the order I viewed the lake.

September 27. Walked into Mr. Herbert's beautiful grounds, to Oroch's

Hill, in the lawn that he has cleared from that profusion of stones which

lie under the wall; the scene which this point commands is truly

delicious; the house is on the edge of the lawn, by a wood which covers

the whole peninsula, fringes the slope at your feet, and forms a

beautiful shore to the lake. Tomys and Glena are vast mountainous masses

of incredible magnificence, the outline soft and easy in its swells,

whereas those above the eagle's nest are of so broken and abrupt an

outline, that nothing can be imagined more savage, an aspect horrid and

sublime, that gives all the impressions to be wished to astonish rather

than please the mind. The Turk exhibits noble features, and Mangerton's

huge body rises above the whole. The cultivated tracts towards Killarney

form a shore in contrast to the terrific scenes I have just mentioned;

the distant boundary of the lake, a vast ridge of distant blue mountains

towards Dingle. From hence entered the garden, and viewed Mucruss Abbey,

one of the most interesting scenes I ever saw; it is the ruin of a

considerable abbey, built in Henry VI.'s time, and so entire, that if it

were more so, though the building would be more perfect, the ruin would

be less pleasing; it is half obscured in the shade of some venerable ash

trees; ivy has given the picturesque circumstance, which that plant alone

can confer, while the broken walls and ruined turrets throw over it

"The last mournful graces of decay;"

heaps of skulls and bones scattered about, with nettles, briars, and

weeds sprouting in tufts from the loose stones, all unite to raise those

melancholy impressions, which are the merit of such scenes, and which can

scarcely anywhere be felt more completely. The cloisters form a dismal

area, in the centre of which grows the most prodigious yew-tree I ever

beheld, in one great stem, two feet diameter, and fourteen feet high,

from whence a vast head of branches spreads on every side, so as to

perform a perfect canopy to the whole space. I looked for its fit

inhabitant; it is a spot where

"The moping owl doth to the moon complain."

This ruin is in the true style in which all such buildings should appear;

there is not an intruding circumstance, the hand of dress has not touched

it, melancholy is the impression which such scenes should kindle, and it

is here raised most powerfully.

From the abbey we passed to the terrace, a natural one of grass, on the

very shore of the lake; it is irregular and winding; a wall of rocks

broken into fantastic forms by the waves: on the other side a wood,

consisting of all sorts of plants, which the climate can protect, and

through which a variety of walks are traced. The view from this terrace

consists of many parts of various characters, but in their different

styles complete; the lake opens a spreading sheet of water, spotted by

rocks and islands, all but one or two wooded; the outlines of them are

sharp and distinct; nothing can be more smiling than this scene, soft and

mild, a perfect contrast of beauty to the sublimity of the mountains

which form the shore: these rise in an outline, so varied, and at the

same time so magnificent, that nothing greater can be imagined; Tomys and

Glena exhibit an immensity in point of magnitude, but from a large

hanging wood on the slope, and from the smoothness of the general

surface, it has nothing savage, whereas the mountains above and near the

eagle's nest are of the most broken outlines; the declivities are bulging

rocks, of immense size, which seem to impend in horrid forms over the

lake, and where an opening among them is caught, others of the same rude

character rear their threatening heads. From different parts of the

terrace these scenes are viewed in numberless varieties.

Returned to breakfast, and pursued Mr. Herbert's new road, which he has

traced through the peninsula to Dynis Island, three miles in length; and

it is carried in so judicious a manner through a great variety of ground,

rocky woods, lawns, etc., that nothing can be more pleasing; it passes

through a remarkable scene of rocks, which are covered with woods. From

thence to the marble quarry, which Mr. Herbert is working, and where he

gains variety of marbles, green, red, white, and brown, prettily veined;

the quarry is a shore of rocks, which surround a bay of the lake, and

forms a scene consisting of but few parts, but those strongly marked; the

rocks are bold, and broken into slight caverns; they are fringed with

scattered trees, and from many parts of them wood shoots in that romantic

manner so common at Killarney. Full in front Turk Mountain rises with

the proudest outline, in that abrupt magnificence which fills up the

whole space before one, and closes the scene.

The road leads by a place where copper-mines were worked; many shafts

appear; as much ore was raised as sold for twenty-five thousand pounds,

but the works were laid aside, more from ignorance in the workmen than

any defects in the mine.

Came to the opening on the great lake, which appears to advantage here,

the town of Killarney on the north-east shore. Look full on the mountain

Glena, which rises in very bold manner, the hanging woods spread half

way, and are of great extent, and uncommonly beautiful. Two very

pleasing scenes succeed; that to the left is a small bay, hemmed in by a

neck of land in front; the immediate shore rocks, which are in a

picturesque style, and crowned entirely with arbutus, and other wood; a

pretty retired scene, where a variety of objects give no fatigue to the

eye. The other is an admirable mixture of the beautiful and sublime: a

bare rock of an almost regular figure projects from a headland into the

lake, which, with much wood and highland, forms one side of the scene;

the other is wood from a rising ground only; the lake open between, in a

sheet of no great extent, but in front is the hanging wood of Glena,

which appears in full glory.

Mr. Herbert has built a handsome Gothic bridge, to unite the peninsula to

the island of Brickeen, through the arch of which the waters of the north

and south lake flow. It is a span of twenty-seven feet, and seventeen

high, and over it the road leads to that island. From thence to Brickeen

nearly finished, and it is to be thrown across a bottom into Dynis.

Returned by the northern path through a thick wood for some distance, and

caught a very agreeable view of Ash Island, seen through an opening,

inclosed on both sides with wood. Pursued the way from these grounds to

Keelbeg, and viewed the bay of the Devil's Island, which is a beautiful

one, inclosed by a shore, to the right of very noble rocks in ledges and

other forms, crowned in a striking manner with wood; a little rocky islet

rises in front; to the left the water opens, and Turk Mountain rises with

that proud superiority which attends him in all these scenes.

The view of the promontory of Dindog, near this place, closes this part

of the lake, and is indeed singularly beautiful. It is a large rock,

which shoots far into the water, of a height sufficient to be

interesting, in full relief, fringed with a scanty vegetation; the shore

on which you stand bending to the right, as if to meet that rock,

presents a circular shade of dark wood: Turk still the background, in a

character of great sublimity, and Mangerton's loftier summit, but less

interesting outline, a part of the scenery. These views, with others of

less moment, are connected by a succession of lawns breaking among the

wood, pleasing the eye with lively verdure, and relieving it from the

fatigue of the stupendous mountain scenes.

September 28. Took boat on the lake, from the promontory of Dindog

before mentioned. I had been under a million of apprehensions that I

should see no more of Killarney; for it blew a furious storm all night,

and in the morning the bosom of the lake heaved with agitation,

exhibiting few marks but those of anger. After breakfast it cleared up,

the clouds dispersed by degrees, the waves subsided, the sun shone out in

all its splendour; every scene was gay, and no ideas but pleasure

possessed the breast. With these emotions sallied forth, nor did they

disappoint us.

Rowed under the rocky shore of Dindog, which is romantic to a great

degree. The base, by the beating of the waves, is worn into caverns, so

that the heads of the rocks project considerably beyond the base, and

hang over in a manner which makes every part of it interesting.

Following the coast, open marble quarry bay, the shore great fragments of

rock tumbled about in the wildest manner.

The island of rocks against the copper-mine shore a remarkable group.

The shore near Casemilan is of a different nature; it is wood in some

places, in unbroken masses down to the water's edge, in others divided

from it by smaller tracts of rock. Come to a beautiful land-locked bay,

surrounded by a woody shore, which, opening in places, shows other woods

more retired. Tomys is here viewed in a unity of form, which gives it an

air of great magnificence. Turk was obscured by the sun shining

immediately above him, and, casting a stream of burning light on the

water, displayed an effect to describe which the pencil of a Claude alone

would be equal. Turn out of the bay, and gain a full view of the Eagle's

Nest, the mountains above it, and Glena; they form a perfect contrast;

the first are rugged, but Glena mild. Here the shore is a continued

wood.

Pass the bridge, and cross to Dynis, an island Mr. Herbert has improved

in the most agreeable manner, by cutting walks through it that command a

variety of views. One of these paths on the banks of the channel to the

upper lake is sketched with great taste; it is on one side walled with

natural rocks, from clefts of which shoot a thousand fine arbutuses, that

hang in a rich foliage of flowers and scarlet berries; a turf bench in a

delicious spot; the scene close and sequestered, just enough to give

every pleasing idea annexed to retirement.

Passing the bridge, by a rapid stream, came presently to the Eagle's

Nest: having viewed this rock from places where it appears only a part of

an object much greater than itself, I had conceived an idea that it did

not deserve the applause given it, but upon coming near I was much

surprised; the approach is wonderfully fine, the river leads directly to

its foot, and does not give the turn till immediately under, by which

means the view is much more grand than it could otherwise be; it is

nearly perpendicular, and rises in such full majesty, with so bold an

outline, and such projecting masses in its centre, that the magnificence

of the object is complete. The lower part is covered with wood, and

scattered trees climb almost to the top, which (if trees can be amiss in

Ireland) rather weaken the impression raised by this noble rock. This

part is a hanging wood, or an object whose character is perfect beauty;

but the upper scene, the broken outline, rugged sides, and bulging

masses, all are sublime, and so powerful, that sublimity is the general

impression of the whole, by overpowering the idea of beauty raised by the

wood. This immense height of the mountains of Killarney may be estimated

by this rock; from any distant place that commands it, it appears the

lowest crag of a vast chain, and of no account; but on a close approach

it is found to command a very different respect.

Pass between the mountains called the Great Range, towards the upper

lake. Here Turk, which has so long appeared with a figure perfectly

interesting, is become, from a different position, an unmeaning lump.

The rest of the mountains, as you pass, assume a varied appearance, and

are of a prodigious magnitude. The scenery in this channel is great and

wild in all its features; wood is very scarce; vast rocks seem tossed in

confusion through the narrow vale, which is opened among the mountains

for the river to pass. Its banks are rocks in a hundred forms; the

mountain-sides are everywhere scattered with them. There is not a

circumstance but is in unison with the wild grandeur of the scene.

Coleman's Eye, a narrow pass, opens a different scenery. Came to a

region in which the beautiful and the great are mixed without offence.

The islands are most of them thickly wooded. Oak Isle in particular

rises on a pretty base, and is a most beautiful object: Macgillicuddy

Reeks, with their broken points; Baum, with his perfect cone; the Purple

Mountain, with his broad and more regular head; and Turk, having assumed

a new and more interesting aspect, unite with the opposite hills, part of

which have some wood left on them, to form a scene uncommonly striking.

Here you look back on a very peculiar spot; it is a parcel of rocks which

cross the lake, and form a gap that opens to distant water, the whole

backed by Turk, in a style of the highest grandeur.

Come to Derry Currily, which is a great sweep of mountain, covered partly

with wood, hanging in a very noble manner, but part cut down, much of it

mangled, and the rest inhabited by coopers, boat-builders, carpenters,

and turners, a sacrilegious tribe, who have turned the Dryads from their

ancient habitations. The cascade here is a fine one; but passed quickly

from hence to scenes unmixed with pain.

Row to the cluster of the Seven Islands, a little archipelago; they rise

very boldly from the water upon rocky bases, and are crowned in the most

beautiful manner with wood, among which are a number of arbutuses; the

channels among them opening to new scenes, and the great amphitheatre of

rock and mountain that surround them unite to form a noble view.

Into the river, at the very end of the lake, which winds towards

Macgillicuddy Reeks in fanciful meanders.

Returned by a course somewhat different, through the Seven Islands, and

back to the Eagle's Nest, viewing the scenes already mentioned in new

positions. At that noble rock fired three cannon for the echo, which

indeed is prodigious; the report does not consist of direct

reverberations from one rock to another with a pause between, but has an

exact resemblance to a peal of thunder rattling behind the rock, as if

travelling the whole scenery we had viewed, and lost in the immensity of

Macgillicuddy Reeks.

Returning through the bridge, turn to the left round Dynis Island, under

the woods of Glena; open on the cultivated country beyond the town of

Killarney, and come gradually in sight of Innisfallen and Ross Island.

Pass near to the wood of Glena, which here takes the appearance of one

immense sweep hanging in the most beautiful manner imaginable, on the

side of a vast mountain to a point, shooting into the great lake. A more

glorious scene is not to be imagined. It is one deep mass of wood,

composed of the richest shades perfectly dipping in the water, without

rock or strand appearing, not a break in the whole. The eye passing upon

the sheet of liquid silver some distance, to meet so entire a sweep of

every tint that can compose one vast mass of green, hanging to such an

extent as to fill not only the eye but the imagination, unites in the

whole to form the most noble scene that is anywhere to be beheld.

Turn under the north shore of Mucruss; the lake here is one great expanse

of water, bounded by the woods described, the islands of Innisfallen,

Ross, etc., and the peninsula. The shore of Mucruss has a great variety;

it is in some places rocky; huge masses tumbled from their base lie

beneath, as in a chaos of ruin. Great caverns worn under them in a

variety of strange forms; or else covered with woods of a variety of

shades. Meet the point of Ardnagluggen (in English where the water

dashes on the rocks) and come under Ornescope, a rocky headland of a most

bold projection hanging many yards over its base, with an old

weather-beaten yew growing from a little bracket of rock, from which the

spot is called Ornescope, or yew broom.

Mucruss gardens presently open among the woods, and relieve the eye,

almost fatigued with the immense objects upon which it has so long gazed;

these softer scenes of lawn gently swelling among the shrubs and trees

finished the second day.

September 29. Rode after breakfast to Mangerton Cascade and Drumarourk

Hill, from which the view of Mucruss is uncommonly pleasing.

Pass the other hill, the view of which I described the 27th, and went to

Colonel Huffy's monument, from whence the scene is different from the

rest; the foreground is a gentle hill, intersected by hedges, forming

several small lawns. There are some scattered trees and houses, with

Mucruss Abbey half obscured by wood, the whole cheerful and backed by

Turk. The lake is of a triangular form, Ross Island and Innisfallen its

limits; the woods of Mucruss and the islands take a new position.

Returning, took a boat again towards Ross Isle, and as Mucruss retires

from us, nothing can be more beautiful than the spots of lawn in the

terrace opening in the wood; above it the green hills with clumps, and

the whole finishing in the noble group of wood about the abbey, which

here appears a deep shade, and so fine a finishing one, that not a tree

should be touched. Rowed to the east point of Ross, which is well

wooded; turn to the south coast. Doubling the point, the most beautiful

shore of that island appears; it is the well-wooded environs of a bay,

except a small opening to the castle; the woods are in deep shades, and

rise on the regular slopes of a high range of rocky coast. The part in

front of Filekilly point rises in the middle, and sinks towards each end.

The woods of Tomys here appear uncommonly fine. Open Innisfallen, which

is composed at this distance of the most various shades, within a broken

outline, entirely different from the other islands, groups of different

masses rising in irregular tufts, and joined by lower trees. No pencil

could mix a happier assemblage. Land near a miserable room, where

travellers dine. Of the isle of Innisfallen, it is paying no great

compliment to say it is the most beautiful in the king's dominions, and

perhaps in Europe. It contains twenty acres of land, and has every

variety that the range of beauty, unmixed with the sublime, can give.

The general feature is that of wood; the surface undulates into swelling

hills, and sinks into little vales; the slopes are in every direction,

the declivities die gently away, forming those slight inequalities which

are the greatest beauty of dressed grounds. The little valleys let in

views of the surrounding lake between the hills, while the swells break

the regular outline of the water, and give to the whole an agreeable

confusion. The wood has all the variety into which nature has thrown the

surface; in some parts it is so thick as to appear impenetrable, and

secludes all farther view; in others, it breaks into tufts of tall

timber, under which cattle feed. Here they open, as if to offer to the

spectator the view of the naked lawn; in others close, as if purposely to

forbid a more prying examination. Trees of large size and commanding

figure form in some places natural arches; the ivy mixing with the

branches, and hanging across in festoons of foliage, while on one side

the lake glitters among the trees, and on the other a thick gloom dwells

in the recesses of the wood. The figure of the island renders one part a

beautiful object to another; for the coast being broken and indented,

forms bays surrounded either with rock or wood: slight promontories shoot

into the lake, whose rocky edges are crowned with wood. These are the

great features of Innisfallen; the slighter touches are full of beauties

easily imagined by the reader. Every circumstance of the wood, the

water, the rocks, and lawn, are characteristic, and have a beauty in the

assemblage from mere disposition. I must, however, observe that this

delicious retreat is not kept as one could wish.

Scenes that are great and commanding, from magnitude or wildness, should

never be dressed; the rugged, and even the horrible, may add to the

effect upon the mind: but in such as Innisfallen, a degree of dress, that

is, cleanliness, is even necessary to beauty. I have spoken of lawn, but

I should observe that expression indicates what it ought to be rather

than what it is. It is very rich grass, poached by oxen and cows, the

only inhabitants of the island. No spectator of taste but will regret

the open grounds not being drained with hollow cuts; the ruggedness of

the surface levelled, and the grass kept close shaven by many sheep

instead of beasts. The bushes and briars, where they have encroached on

what ought to be lawn, cleared away; some parts of the isle more opened;

in a word no ornaments given, for the scene wants them not, but

obstructions cleared, ruggedness smoothed, and the whole cleaned. This

is what ought to be done; as to what might be made of the island, if its

noble proprietor (Lord Kenmare) had an inclination, it admits of being

converted into a terrestrial paradise; lawning with the intermixture of

other shrubs and wood, and a little dress, would make it an example of

what ornamented grounds might be, but which not one in a thousand is.

Take the island, however, as it is, with its few imperfections, and where

are we to find such another? What a delicious retreat! an emperor could

not bestow such a one as Innisfallen; with a cottage, a few cows, and a

swarm of poultry, is it possible that happiness should refuse to be a

guest here?

Row to Ross Castle, in order to coast that island; there is nothing

peculiarly striking in it; return the same way around Innisfallen. In

this little voyage the shore of Ross is one of the most beautiful of the

wooded ones in the lake; it seems to unite with Innisfallen, and projects

into the water in thick woods one beyond another. In the middle of the

channel a large rock, and from the other shore a little promontory of a

few scattered trees; the whole scene pleasing.

The shore of Innisfallen has much variety, but in general it is woody,

and of the beautiful character which predominates in that island. One

bay, at taking leave of it, is exceedingly pretty; it is a semicircular

one, and in the centre there is a projecting knoll of wood within a bay;

this is uncommon, and has an agreeable effect.

The near approach to Tomys exhibits a sweep of wood, so great in extent,

and so rich in foliage, that no person can see without admiring it. The

mountainous part above is soon excluded by the approach; wood alone is

seen, and that in such a noble range as to be greatly striking; it just

hollows into a bay, and in the centre of it is a chasm in the wood; this

is a bed of a considerable stream, which forms O'Sullivan's cascade, to

which all strangers are conducted, as one of the principal beauties of

Killarney. Landed to the right of it, and walked under the thick shade

of the wood, over a rocky declivity, close to the torrent stream, which

breaks impetuously from rock to rock, with a roar that kindles

expectation. The picture in your fancy will not exceed the reality; a

great stream bursts from the deep bosom of a wooded glen, hollowed into a

retired recess of rocks and trees, itself a most pleasing and romantic

spot, were there not a drop of water: the first fall is many feet

perpendicularly over a rock; to the eye it immediately makes another, the

basin into which it pours being concealed; from this basin it forces

itself impetuously between two rocks. This second fall is also of a

considerable height; but the lower one, the third, is the most

considerable; it issues in the same manner from a basin hid from the

point of view. These basins being large, there appears a space of

several yards between each fall, which adds much to the picturesque

scenery; the whole is within an arch of wood, that hangs over it; the

quantity of water is so considerable, as to make an almost deafening

noise, and uniting with the torrent below, where the fragments of rock

are large and numerous, throw an air of grandeur over the whole. It is

about seventy feet high. Coast from hence the woody shores of Tomys and

Glena; they are upon the whole much the most beautiful ones I have

anywhere seen; Glena woods having more oak, and some arbutuses, are the

finer and deeper shades; Tomys has a great quantity of birch, whose

foliage is not so luxuriant. The reader may figure to himself what these

woods are, when he is informed that they fill an unbroken extent of six

miles in length, and from half a mile to a mile and a half in breadth,

all hanging on the sides of two vast mountains, and coming down with a

full robe of rich luxuriance to the very water's edge. The acclivity of

these hills is such, that every tree appears full to the eye. The

variety of the ground is great; in some places great swells in the

mountain-side, with corresponding hollows, present concave and convex

masses; in others, considerable ridges of land and rock rise from the

sweep, and offer to the astonished eye yet other varieties of shade.

Smaller mountains rise regularly from the immense bosom of the larger,

and hold forth their sylvan heads, backed by yet higher woods. To give

all the varieties of this immense scenery of forest is impossible. Above

the whole is a prodigious mass of mountain, of a gently swelling outline

and soft appearance, varying as the sun or clouds change their position,

but never becoming rugged or threatening to the eye.

The variations are best seen by rowing near the shore, when every stroke

of the oar gives a new outline, and fresh tints to please the eye: but

for one great impression, row about two miles from the shore of Glena; at

that distance the inequalities in the surface are no longer seen, but the

eye is filled with so immense a range of wood, crowned with a mountain in

perfect unison with itself, that objects, whose character is that of

beauty, are here, from their magnitude, truly magnificent, and attended

with a most forcible expression.--Returned to Mucruss.

September 30. This morning I had dedicated to the ascent of Mangerton,

but his head was so enshrouded in clouds, and the weather so bad, that I

was forced to give up the scheme: Mr. Herbert has measured him with very

accurate instruments, of which he has a great collection, and found his

height eight hundred and thirty-five yards above the level of the sea.

The Devil's Punch-bowl, from the description I had of it, must be the

crater of an exhausted volcano: there are many signs of them about

Killarney, particularly vast rocks on the sides of mountains, in streams,

as if they had rolled from the top in one direction. Brown stone rocks

are also sometimes found on lime-quarries, tossed thither perhaps in some

vast eruption.

In my way from Killarney to Castle Island, rode into Lord Kenmare's park,

from whence there is another beautiful view of the lake, different from

many of the preceding; there is a broad margin of cultivated country at

your feet, to lead the eye gradually in the lake, which exhibits her

islands to this point more distinctly than to any other, and the

backgrounds of the mountains of Glena and Tomys give a bold relief.

Upon the whole, Killarney, among the lakes that I have seen, can scarcely

be said to have a rival. The extent of water in Loch Earne is much

greater, the islands more numerous, and some scenes near Castle Caldwell

of perhaps as great magnificence. The rocks at Keswick are more sublime,

and other lakes may have circumstances in which they are superior; but

when we consider the prodigious woods of Killarney, the immensity of the

mountains, the uncommon beauty of the promontory of Mucruss and the Isle

of Innisfallen, the character of the islands, the singular circumstance

of the arbutus, and the uncommon echoes, it will appear, upon the whole,

to be in reality superior to all comparison.

Before I quit it I have one other observation to make, which is relative

to the want of accommodations and extravagant expense of strangers

residing at Killarney. I speak it not at all feelingly, thanks to Mr.

Herbert's hospitality, but from the accounts given me: the inns are

miserable, and the lodgings little better. I am surprised somebody with

a good capital does not procure a large well-built inn, to be erected on

the immediate shore of the lake, in an agreeable situation, at a distance

from the town; there are very few places where such a one would answer

better; there ought to be numerous and good apartments. A large

rendezvous-room for billiards, cards, dancing, music, etc., to which the

company might resort when they chose it; an ordinary for those that like

dining in public; boats of all sorts, nets for fishing, and as great a

variety of amusements as could be collected, especially within doors; for

the climate being very rainy, travellers wait with great impatience in a

dirty common inn, which they would not do if they were in the midst of

such accommodations as they meet with at an English spa. But above all,

the prices of everything, from a room and a dinner to a barge and a band

of music, to be reasonable, and hung up in every part of the house. The

resort of strangers to Killarney would then be much increased, and their

stay would be greatly prolonged; they would not view it post-haste, and

fly away the first moment to avoid dirt and imposition. A man with a

good capital and some ingenuity would, I think, make a fortune by fixing

here upon such principles.

The state of the poor in the whole county of Kerry represented as

exceedingly miserable, and owing to the conduct of men of property, who

are apt to lay the blame on what they call land pirates, or men who offer

the highest rent, and who, in order to pay this rent, must and do re-let

all the cabin lands at an extravagant rise, which is assigning over all

the cabins to be devoured by one farmer. The cottars on a farm cannot go

from one to another, in order to find a good master, as in England; for

all the country is in the same system, and no redress to be found. Such

being the case, the farmers are enabled to charge the price of labour as

low as they please, and rate the land as high as they like. This is an

evil which oppresses them cruelly, and certainly has its origin in its

landlords when they set their farms, setting all the cabins with them,

instead of keeping them tenants to themselves. The oppression is, the

farmer valuing the labour of the poor at fourpence or fivepence a day,

and paying that in land rated much above its value. Owing to this the

poor are depressed; they live upon potatoes and sour milk, and the

poorest of them only salt and water to them, with now and then a herring.

Their milk is bought; for very few keep cows, scarce any pigs, but a few

poultry. Their circumstances are incomparably worse than they were

twenty years ago; for they had all cows, but then they wore no linen: all

now have a little flax. To these evils have been owing emigrations,

which have been considerable.

To the west of Tralee are the Mahagree Islands, famous for their corn

products; they are rock and sand, stocked with rabbits; near them a sandy

tract, twelve miles long, and one mile broad, to the north, with the

mountains to the south, famous for the best wheat in Kerry; all under the

plough.

Arriving at Ardfert, Lord Crosby, whose politeness I have every reason to

remember, was so obliging as to carry me by one of the finest strands I

ever rode upon, to view the mouth of the Shannon at Ballengary, the site

of an old fort. It is a vast rock, separated from the country by a chasm

of prodigious depth, through which the waves drive. The rocks of the

coast here are in the boldest style, and hollowed by the furious Atlantic

waves into caverns in which they roar. It was a dead calm, yet the swell

was so heavy, that the great waves rolled in and broke upon the rocks

with such violence as to raise an immense foam, and give one an idea of

what a storm would be; but fancy rarely falls short in her pictures. The

view of the Shannon is exceedingly noble; it is eight miles over, the

mouth formed by two headlands of very high and bold cliffs, and the reach

of the river in view very extensive; it is an immense scenery: perhaps

the noblest mouth of a river in Europe.

Ardfert is very near the sea, so near it that single trees or rows are

cut in pieces with the wind, yet about Lord Glendour's house there are

extensive plantations exceedingly flourishing, many fine ash and beech;

about a beautiful Cistercian abbey, and a silver fir of forty-eight

years' growth, of an immense height and size.

October 3. Left Ardfert, accompanying Lord Crosby to Listowel. Called

in the way to view Lixnaw, the ancient seat of the Earls of Kerry, but

deserted for ten years past, and now presents so melancholy a scene of

desolation, that it shocked me to see it. Everything around lies in

ruin, and the house itself is going fast off by thieving depredations of

the neighbourhood. I was told a curious anecdote of this estate; which

shows wonderfully the improvement of Ireland. The present Earl of

Kerry's grandfather, Thomas, agreed to lease the whole estate for 1,500

pounds a year to a Mr. Collis for ever, but the bargain went off upon a

dispute whether the money should be paid at Cork or Dublin. Those very

lands are now let at 20,000 pounds a year. There is yet a good deal of

wood, particularly a fine ash grove, planted by the present Earl of

Shelburne's father.

Proceeded to Woodford, Robert Fitzgerald's, Esq., passing Listowel

Bridge; the vale leading to it is very fine, the river is broad, the

lands high, and one side a very extensive hanging wood, opening on those

of Woodford in a pleasing style.

Woodford is an agreeable scene; close to the house is a fine winding

river under a bank of thick wood, with the view of an old castle hanging

over it.

In 1765, Mr. Fitzgerald was travelling from Constantinople to Warsaw, and

a waggon with his baggage heavily laden overset; the country people

harnessed two buffaloes by the horns, in order to draw it over, which

they did with ease. In some very instructive conversation I had with

this gentleman on the subject of his travels, this circumstance

particularly struck me.

October 4. From Woodford to Tarbat, the seat of Edward Leslie, Esq.,

through a country rather dreary, till it came upon Tarbat, which is so

much the contrary that it appeared to the highest advantage; the house is

on the edge of a beautiful lawn, with a thick margin of full grown wood,

hanging on a steep bank to the Shannon, so that the river is seen from

the house over the tops of this wood, which being of a broken irregular

outline has an effect very striking and uncommon; the river is two or

three miles broad here, and the opposite coast forms a promontory which

has from Tarbat exactly the appearance of a large island. To the east,

the river swells into a triangular lake, with a reach opening at the

distant corner of it to Limerick. The union of wood, water, and lawn

forms upon the whole a very fine scene; the river is very magnificent.

From the hill on the coast above the island, the lawn and wood appear

also to great advantage. But the finest point of view is from the higher

hill on the other side of the house, which looking down on all these

scenes, they appear as a beautiful ornament to the Shannon, which spreads

forth its proud course from two to nine miles wide, surrounded by

highlands; a scenery truly magnificent.

The state of the poor is something better than it was twenty years ago,

particularly their clothing, cattle, and cabins. They live upon potatoes

and milk; all have cows, and when they dry them, buy others. They also

have butter, and most of them keep pigs, killing them for their own use.

They have also herrings. They are in general in the cottar system, of

paying for labour by assigning some land to each cabin. The country is

greatly more populous than twenty years ago, and is now increasing; and

if ever so many cabins were built by a gradual increase, tenants would be

found for them. A cabin and five acres of land will let for 4 pounds a

year. The industrious cottar, with two, three, or four acres, would be

exceedingly glad to have his time to himself, and have such an annual

addition of land as he was able to manage, paying a fair rent for it;

none would decline it but the idle and worthless.

Tithes are all annually valued by the proctors, and charged very high.

There are on the Shannon about one hundred boats employed in bringing

turf to Limerick from the coast of Kerry and Clare, and in fishing; the

former carry from twenty to twenty-five tons, the latter from five to

ten, and are navigated each by two men and a boy.

October 5. Passed through a very unentertaining country (except for a

few miles on the bank of the Shannon) to Altavilla, but Mr. Bateman being

from home, I was disappointed in getting an account of the palatines

settled in his neighbourhood. Kept the road to Adair, where Mrs. Quin,

with a politeness equalled only by her understanding, procured me every

intelligence I wished for.

Palatines were settled here by the late Lord Southwell about seventy

years ago.

They preserve some of their German customs: sleep between two beds. They

appoint a burgomaster, to whom they appeal in case of all disputes; and

they yet preserve their language, but that is declining. They are very

industrious, and in consequence are much happier and better fed, clothed,

and lodged than the Irish peasants. We must not, however, conclude from

hence that all is owing to this; their being independent farmers, and

having leases, are circumstances which will create industry. Their crops

are much better than those of their neighbours. There are three villages

of them, about seventy families in all. For some time after they settled

they fed upon sour-crout, but by degrees left it off, and took to

potatoes; but now subsist upon them and butter and milk, but with a great

deal of oat bread, and some of wheat, some meat and fowls, of which they

raise many. They have all offices to their houses, that is, stables and

cow-houses, and a lodge for their ploughs, etc. They keep their cows in

the house in winter, feeding them upon hay and oat straw. They are

remarkable for the goodness and cleanliness of their houses. The women

are very industrious, reap the corn, plough the ground sometimes, and do

whatever work may be going on; they also spin, and make their children do

the same. Their wheat is much better than any in the country, insomuch

that they get a better price than anybody else. Their industry goes so

far, that jocular reports of its excess are spread. In a very pinching

season, one of them yoked his wife against a horse, and went in that

manner to work, and finished a journey at plough. The industry of the

women is a perfect contrast to the Irish ladies in the cabins, who cannot

be persuaded, on any consideration, even to make hay, it not being the

custom of the country, yet they bind corn, and do other works more

laborious. Mrs. Quin, who is ever attentive to introduce whatever can

contribute to their welfare and happiness, offered many premiums to

induce them to make hay, of hats, cloaks, stockings, etc. etc., but all

would not do.

Few places have so much wood about them as Adair; Mr. Quin has above one

thousand acres in his hands, in which a large proportion is under wood.

The deer park of four hundred acres is almost full of old oak and very

fine thorns, of a great size; and about the house, the plantations are

very extensive, of elm and other wood, but that thrives better than any

other sort. I have nowhere seen finer than vast numbers here. There is

a fine river runs under the house, and within view are no less than three

ruins of Franciscan friaries, two of them remarkably beautiful, and one

has most of the parts perfect, except the roof.

In Mr. Quin's house there are some very good pictures, particularly an

Annunciation by Domenichino, which is a beautiful piece. It was brought

lately from Italy by Mr. Quin, junior. The colours are rich and mellow,

and the hairs of the heads inimitably pleasing; the group of angels at

the top, to the left of the piece, is very natural. It is a piece of

great merit. The companion is a Magdalen; the expression of melancholy,

or rather misery, remarkably strong. There is a gloom in the whole in

full unison with the subject. There are, besides these, some others

inferior, yet of merit, and two very good portraits of Lord Dartry (Mrs.

Quin's brother), and of Mr. Quin, junior, by Pompeio Battoni. A piece in

an uncommon style, done on oak, of Esther and Ahasuerus; the colours

tawdry, but the grouping attitudes and effect pleasing.

Castle Oliver is a place almost entirely of Mr. Oliver's creation; from a

house, surrounded with cabins and rubbish, he has fixed it in a fine

lawn, surrounded by good wood. The park he has very much improved on an

excellent plan; by means of seven feet hurdles, he fences off part of it

that wants to be cleaned or improved; these he cultivates, and leaves for

grass, and then takes another spot, which is by much the best way of

doing it. In the park is a glen, an English mile long, winding in a

pleasing manner, with much wood hanging on the banks. Mr. Oliver has

conducted a stream through this vale, and formed many little water-falls

in an exceedingly good taste, chiefly overhung with wood, but in some

places open with several little rills, trickling over stones down the

slopes. A path winds through a large wood and along the brow of the

glen; this path leads to a hermitage, a cave of rock, in a good taste,

and to some benches, from which the views of the water and wood are in

the sequestered style they ought to be. One of these little views, which

catches several falls under the arch of the bridge, is one of the

prettiest touches of the kind I have seen. The vale beneath the house,

when viewed from the higher grounds, is pleasing; it is very well wooded,

there being many inclosures, surrounded by pine trees, and a thick fine

mass of wood rises from them up the mountain-side, makes a very good

figure, and would be better, had not Mr. Oliver's father cut it into

vistas for shooting. Upon the whole, the place is highly improved, and

when the mountains are planted, in which Mr. Oliver is making a

considerable progress, it will be magnificent.

In the house are several fine pictures, particularly five pieces by Seb.

Ricci, Venus and AEneas; Apollo and Pan; Venus and Achilles; and Pyrrhus

and Andromache, by Lazzerini; and the Rape of the Lapithi by the

Centaurs. The last is by much the finest, and is a very capital piece;

the expression is strong, the figures are in bold relief, and the

colouring good. Venus and Achilles is a pleasing picture; the continence

of Scipio is well grouped, but Scipio, as in every picture I ever saw of

him, has no expression. Indeed, chastity is in the countenance so

passive a virtue as not to be at all suited to the genius of painting;

the idea is rather that of insipidity, and accordingly Scipio's

expression is generally insipid enough. Two fine pieces, by Lucca

Jordano, Hercules and Anteus; Samson Killing the Lion: both dark and

horrid, but they are highly finished and striking. Six heads of old men,

by Nagori, excellent; and four young women, in the character of the

seasons.

October 9. Left Castle Oliver. Had I followed my inclination, my stay

would have been much longer, for I found it equally the residence of

entertainment and instruction. Passed through Kilfennan and

Duntreleague, in my way to Tipperary. The road leads everywhere on the

sides of the hills, so as to give a very distinct view of the lower

grounds; the soil all the way is the same sort of sandy reddish loam I

have already described, incomparable land for tillage: as I advanced it

grew something lighter, and in many places free from gravel. Bullocks

the stock all the way. Towards Tipperary I saw vast numbers of sheep,

and many bullocks. All this line of country is part of the famous golden

vale. To Thomas Town, where I was so unfortunate as not to find Mr.

Matthew at home; the domain is one thousand five hundred English acres,

so well planted that I could hardly believe myself in Ireland. There is

a hill in the park from which the view of it, the country and the

Galties, are striking.

October 12. To Lord de Montalt's, at Dundrum, a place which his lordship

has ornamented in the modern style of improvement: the house was situated

in the midst of all the regular exertions of the last age. Parterres,

parapets of earth, straight walks, knots and clipped hedges, all which he

has thrown down, with an infinite number of hedges and ditches, filled up

ponds, etc., and opened one very noble lawn around him, scattered

negligently over with trees, and cleared the course of a choked-up river,

so that it flows at present in a winding course through the grounds.

October 13. Leaving Dundrum, passed through Cashel, where is a rock and

ruin on it, called the Rock of Cashel, supposed to be of the remotest

antiquity. Towards Clonmel, the whole way through the same rich vein of

red sandy loam I have so often mentioned: I examined it in several

fields, and found it to be of an extraordinary fertility, and as fine

turnip land as ever I saw. It is much under sheep; but towards Clonmel

there is a great deal of tillage.

The first view of that town, backed by a high ridge of mountains, with a

beautiful space near it of inclosures, fringed with a scattering of

trees, was very pleasing. It is the best situated place in the county of

Tipperary, on the Suir, which brings up boats of ten tons burthen. It

appears to be a busy populous place, yet I was told that the manufacture

of woollens is not considerable. It is noted for being the birthplace of

the inimitable Sterne.

To Sir William Osborne's, three miles the other side Clonmel. From a

character so remarkable for intelligence and precision, I could not fail

of meeting information of the most valuable kind. This gentleman has

made a mountain improvement which demands particular attention, being

upon a principle very different from common ones.

Twelve years ago he met with a hearty-looking fellow of forty, followed

by a wife and six children in rags, who begged. Sir William questioned

him upon the scandal of a man in full health and vigour, supporting

himself in such a manner: the man said he could get no work: "Come along

with me, I will show you a spot of land upon which I will build a cabin

for you, and if you like it you shall fix there." The fellow followed

Sir William, who was as good as his word: he built him a cabin, gave him

five acres of a heathy mountain, lent him four pounds to stock with, and

gave him, when he had prepared his ground, as much lime as he would come

for. The fellow flourished; he went on gradually; repaid the four

pounds, and presently became a happy little cottar: he has at present

twelve acres under cultivation, and a stock in trade worth at least 80

pounds; his name is John Conory.

The success which attended this man in two or three years brought others

who applied for land, and Sir William gave them as they applied. The

mountain was under lease to a tenant, who valued it so little, that upon

being reproached with not cultivating, or doing something with it, he

assured Sir William that it was utterly impracticable to do anything with

it, and offered it to him without any deduction of rent. Upon this

mountain he fixed them; gave them terms as they came determinable with

the lease of the farm, so that every one that came in succession had

shorter and shorter tenures; yet are they so desirous of settling, that

they come at present, though only two years remain for a term.

In this manner Sir William has fixed twenty-two families, who are all

upon the improving hand, the meanest growing richer; and find themselves

so well off, that no consideration will induce them to work for others,

not even in harvest: their industry has no bounds; nor is the day long

enough for the revolution of their incessant labour. Some of them bring

turf to Clonmel, and Sir William has seen Conory returning loaded with

soap ashes.

He found it difficult to persuade them to make a road to their village,

but when they had once done it, he found none in getting cross roads to

it, they found such benefit in the first. Sir William has continued to

give whatever lime they come for: and they have desired one thousand

barrels among them for the year 1766, which their landlord has

accordingly contracted for with his lime-burner, at 11d. a barrel. Their

houses have all been built at his expense, and done by contract at 6

pounds each, after which they raise what little offices they want for

themselves.

October 15. Left New Town, and keeping on the banks of the Suir, passed

through Carrick to Curraghmore, the seat of the Earl of Tyrone. This

line of country, in point of soil, inferior to what I have of late gone

through: so that I consider the rich country to end at Clonmel.

Emigrations from this part of Ireland principally to Newfoundland: for a

season they have 18 or 20 pounds for their pay, and are maintained, but

they do not bring home more than 7 to 11 pounds. Some of them stay and

settle; three years ago there was an emigration of indented servants to

North Carolina of three hundred, but they were stopped by contrary winds,

etc. There had been something of this constantly, but not to that

amount. The oppression which the poor people have most to complain of is

the not having any tenures in their lands, by which means they are

entirely subject to their employers.

Manufactures here are only woollens. Carrick is one of the greatest

manufacturing towns in Ireland. Principally for ratteens, but of late

they have got into broadcloths, all for home consumption; the manufacture

increases, and is very flourishing. There are between three and four

hundred people employed by it in Carrick and its neighbourhood.

Curraghmore is one of the finest places in Ireland, or indeed that I have

anywhere seen. The house, which is large, is situated upon a rising

ground, in a vale surrounded by very bold hills, which rise in a variety

of forms and offer to the eye, in rising through the grounds, very noble

and striking scenes. These hills are exceedingly varied, so that the

detour of the place is very pleasing. In order to see it to advantage, I

would advise a traveller to take the ride which Lord Tyrone carried me.

Passed through the deer-park wood of old oaks, spread over the side of a

bold hill, and of such an extent, that the scene is a truly forest one,

without any other boundary in view than what the stems of trees offer

from mere extent, retiring one behind another till they thicken so much

to the eye, under the shade of their spreading tops, as to form a distant

wall of wood. This is a sort of scene not common in Ireland; it is a

great extent alone that will give it. From this hill enter an evergreen

plantation, a scene which winds up the deer-park hill, and opens on to

the brow of it, which commands a most noble view indeed. The lawns round

the house appear at one's feet, at the bottom of a great declivity of

wood, almost everywhere surrounded by plantations. The hills on the

opposite side of the vale against the house consist of a large lawn in

the centre of the two woods, that to the right of an immense extent,

which waves over a mountain-side in the finest manner imaginable, and

lead the eye to the scenery on the left, which is a beautiful vale of

rich inclosures, of several miles extent, with the Suir making one great

reach through it, and a bold bend just before it enters a gap in the

hills towards Waterford, and winds behind them; to the right you look

over a large plain, backed by the great Cummeragh Mountains. For a

distinct extent of view, the parts of which are all of a commanding

magnitude, and a variety equal to the number, very few prospects are

finer than this.

From hence the boundary plantation extends some miles to the west and

north-west of the domain, forming a margin to the whole of different

growths, having been planted, by degrees, from three to sixteen years.

It is in general well grown, and the trees thriven exceedingly,

particularly the oak, beech, larch, and firs. It is very well sketched,

with much variety given to it.

Pass by the garden across the river which murmurs over a rocky bed, and

follow the riding up a steep hill, covered with wood from some breaks, in

which the house appears perfectly buried in a deep wood, and come out,

after a considerable extent of ride, into the higher lawn, which commands

a view of the scenery about the house; and from the brow of the hill the

water, which is made to imitate a river, has a good effect, and throws a

great air of cheerfulness over the scene, for from hence the declivity

below it is hid. But the view, which is the most pleasing from hence,

the finest at Curraghmore, and indeed one of the most striking that is

anywhere to be seen, is that of the hanging wood to the right of the

house, rising in so noble a sweep as perfectly to fill the eye, and leave

the fancy scarce anything to wish: at the bottom is a small semicircular

lawn, around which flows the river, under the immediate shade of very

noble oaks. The whole wood rises boldly from the bottom, tree above

tree, to a vast height, of large oak. The masses of shade are but tints

of one colour; it is not chequered with a variety. There is a majestic

simplicity, a unity in the whole, which is attended with an uncommon

impression, and such as none but the most magnificent scenes can raise.

Descending from hence through the roads, the riding crosses the river,

and passes through the meadow which has such an effect in the preceding

scene, from which also the view is very fine, and leads home through a

continued and an extensive range of fine oak, partly on a declivity, at

the bottom of which the river murmurs its broken course.

Besides this noble riding, there is a very agreeable walk runs

immediately on the banks of the river, which is perfect in its style; it

is a sequestered line of wood, so high on the declivities in some places,

and so thick on the very edge in others, overspreading the river, that

the character of the scene is gloom and melancholy, heightened by the

noise of the water falling from stone to stone. There is a considerable

variety in the banks of it, and in the figures and growth of the wood,

but none that hurts the impression, which is well preserved throughout.

October 17. Accompanied Lord Tyrone to Waterford; made some inquiries

into the state of their trade, but found it difficult, from the method in

which the custom-house books are kept, to get the details I wished; but

in the year following, having the pleasure of a long visit at

Ballycanvan, the seat of Cornelius Bolton, Esq., his son, the member for

the city, procured me every information I could wish, and that in so

liberal and polite a manner, that it would not be easy to express the

obligations I am under to both. In general, I was informed that the

trade of the place had increased considerably in ten years, both the

exports and imports--the exports of the products of pasturage, full

one-third in twelve years. That the staple trade of the place is the

Newfoundland trade. This is very much increased; there is more of it

here than anywhere. The number of people who go as passengers in the

Newfoundland ships is amazing: from sixty to eighty ships, and from three

thousand to five thousand annually. They come from most parts of

Ireland, from Cork, Kerry, etc. Experienced men will get eighteen to

twenty-five pounds for the season, from March to November. A man who

never went will have five to seven pounds and his passage, and others

rise to twenty pounds; the passage out they get, but pay home two pounds.

An industrious man in a year will bring home twelve to sixteen pounds

with him, and some more. A great point for them is to be able to carry

out all their slops, for everything there is exceedingly dear, one or two

hundred per cent. dearer than they can get them at home. They are not

allowed to take out any woollen goods but for their own use. The ships

go loaded with pork, beef, butter, and some salt; and bring home

passengers, or get freights where they can; sometimes rum. The Waterford

pork comes principally from the barony of Iverk, in Kilkenny, where they

fatten great numbers of large hogs; for many weeks together they kill

here three to four thousand a week, the price fifty shillings to four

pounds each; goes chiefly to Newfoundland. One was killed in Mr.

Penrose's cellar that weighed five hundredweight and a quarter, and

measured from the nose to the end of the tail nine feet four inches.

There is a foundry at Waterford for pots, kettles, weights, and all

common utensils; and a manufactory by Messrs. King and Tegent of anvils

to anchors, twenty hundredweight, etc., which employs forty hands.

Smiths earn from 6s. to 24s. a week. Nailers from 10s. to 12s. And

another less considerable. There are two sugar-houses, and many

salt-houses. The salt is boiled over lime-kilns.

There is a fishery upon the coast of Waterford, for a great variety of

fish, herrings particularly, in the mouth of Waterford Harbour, and two

years ago in such quantities there, that the tides left the ditches full

of them. There are some premium boats both here and at Dungarvan, but

the quantity of herrings barrelled is not considerable.

The butter trade of Waterford has increased greatly for seven years past;

it comes from Waterford principally, but much from Carlow; for it comes

from twenty miles beyond Carlow, for sixpence per hundred. From the 1st

of January, 1774, to the 1st of January, 1775, there were exported

fifty-nine thousand eight hundred and fifty-six casks of butter, each, on

an average, one hundredweight, at the mean price of 50s. Revenue of

Waterford, 1751, 17,000 pounds; 1776, 52,000 pounds. The slaughter trade

has increased, but not so much as the butter. Price of butter now at

Waterford, 58s.; twenty years' average, 42s. Beef now to 25s.; average,

twenty years, 10s. to 18s. Pork, now 30s.; average, twenty years, 16s.

to 22s. Eighty sail of ships now belonging to the port, twenty years ago

not thirty. They pay to the captains of ship of two hundred tons 5

pounds a month; the mate 3 pounds 10s. Ten men at 40s., five years ago

only 27s. Building ships, 10 pounds a ton. Wear and tear of such a

ship, 20 pounds a month. Ship provisions, 20s. a month.

The new church in this city is a very beautiful one; the body of it is in

the same style exactly as that of Belfast, already described: the total

length one hundred and seventy feet, the breadth fifty-eight. The length

of the body of the church ninety-two, the height forty; breadth between

the pillars, twenty-six. The aisle (which I do not remember at Belfast)

is fifty-eight by forty-five. A room on one side the steeple, space for

the bishop's court, twenty-four by eighteen; on the other side, a room of

the same size for the vestry; and twenty-eight feet square left for a

steeple when their funds will permit. The whole is light and beautiful.

It was built by subscription, and there is a fine organ bespoke at

London. But the finest object in this city is the quay, which is

unrivalled by any I have seen. It is an English mile long; the buildings

on it are only common houses, but the river is near a mile over, flows up

to the town in one noble reach, and the opposite shore a bold hill, which

rises immediately from the water to a height that renders the whole

magnificent. This is scattered with some wood, and divided into pastures

of a beautiful verdure by hedges. I crossed the water, in order to walk

up the rocks on the top of this hill. In one place, over against

Bilberry quarry, you look immediately down on the river, which flows in

noble reaches from Granny Castle on the right past Cromwell's rock, the

shores on both sides quite steep, especially the rock of Bilberry. You

look over the whole town, which here appears in a triangular form.

Besides the city the Cummeragh mountains, Slein-a-man, etc., come in

view. Kilmacow river falls into the Suir, after flowing through a large

extent of well-planted country. This is the finest view about the city.

From Waterford to Passage, and got my chaise and horses on board the

_Countess of Tyrone_ packet, in full expectation of sailing immediately,

as the wind was fair, but I soon found the difference of these private

vessels and the Post-Office packets at Holyhead and Dublin. When the

wind was fair the tide was foul; and when the tide was with them the wind

would not do. In English, there was not a complement of passengers, and

so I had the agreeableness of waiting with my horses in the hold, by way

of rest, after a journey of above one thousand five hundred miles.

October 18. After a beastly night passed on shipboard, and finding no

signs of departure, walked to Ballycanvan, the seat of Cornelius Bolton,

Esq.; rode with Mr. Bolton, jun., to Faithleghill, which commands one of

the finest views I have seen in Ireland. There is a rock on the top of a

hill which has a very bold view on every side down on a great extent of

country, much of which is grass inclosures of a good verdure. This hill

is the centre of a circle of about ten miles diameter, beyond which

higher lands rise, which, after spreading to a great extent, have on

every side a background of mountain: in a northerly direction Mount

Leinster, between Wexford and Wicklow, twenty-six miles off, rises in

several heads far above the clouds. A little to the right of this,

Sliakeiltha (_i.e._ "the woody mountain"), at a less distance, is a fine

object. To the left, Tory Hill, only five miles, in a regular form,

varies the outline. To the east, there is the Long Mountain, eighteen

miles distant, and several lesser Wexford hills. To the south-east, the

Saltees. To the south, the ocean, and the Colines about the bay of

Tramore. To the west, Monavollagh rises two thousand one hundred and

sixty feet above the level of the sea, eighteen miles off, being part of

the great range of the Cummeragh mountains: and to the north-west

Slein-a-man, at the distance of twenty-four miles; so that the outline is

everywhere bold and distinct, though distant. These circumstances would

alone form a great view, but the water part of it, which fills up the

canvas, is in a much superior style. The great river Suir takes a

winding course from the city of Waterford, through a rich country,

hanging on the sides of hills to its banks, and, dividing into a double

channel, forms the lesser island, both of which courses you command

distinctly. United, it makes a bold reach under the hill on which you

stand, and there receives the noble tribute of the united waters of the

Barrow and Nore in two great channels, which form the larger island.

Enlarged by such an accession of water, it winds round the hill in a

bending course, of the freest and most graceful outline, everywhere from

one to three miles across, with bold shores that give a sharp outline to

its course to the ocean. Twenty sail of ships at Passage gave animation

to the scene. Upon the whole, the boldness of the mountain outline, the

variety of the grounds, the vast extent of river, with the declivity to

it from the point of view, altogether form so unrivalled a scenery, every

object so commanding, that the general want of wood is almost forgotten.

Two years after this account was written I again visited this enchanting

hill, and walked to it, day after day, from Ballycanvan, and with

increasing pleasure. Mr. Bolton, jun., has, since I was there before,

inclosed forty acres on the top and steep slope to the water, and begun

to plant them. This will be a prodigious addition; for the slope forming

the bold shore for a considerable space, and having projections from

which the wood will all be seen in the gentle hollows of the hill, the

effect will be amazingly fine. Walks and a riding are tracing out, which

will command fresh beauties at every step. The spots from which a

variety of beautiful views are seen are numerous. All the way from

Ballycanvan to Faithleg, the whole, to the amount of one thousand two

hundred acres, is the property of Mr. Bolton.

Farms about Ballycanvan, Waterford, etc., are generally small, from

twenty and thirty to five hundred acres, generally about two hundred and

fifty. All above two hundred acres are in general dairies; some of the

dairy ones rise very high. The soil is a reddish stony or slaty gravel,

dry, except low lands, which are clay or turf. Rents vary much--about

the town very high, from 5 pounds 5s. to 9 pounds, but at the distance of

a few miles towards Passage, etc., they are from 20s. to 40s., and some

higher, but the country in general does not rise so high, usually 10s. to

20s. for dairying land.

The poor people spin their own flax, but not more, and a few of them wool

for themselves. Their food is potatoes and milk; but they have a

considerable assistance from fish, particularly herrings; part of the

year they have also barley, oaten, and rye bread. They are incomparably

better off in every respect than twenty years ago. Their increase about

Ballycanvan is very great, and tillage all over this neighbourhood is

increased. The rent of a cabin 10s.; an acre with it 20s. The grass of

a cow a few years ago 20s., now 25s. or 30s.

An exceeding good practice here in making their fences is, they plant the

quick on the side of the bank in the common manner, and then, instead of

the dead hedge we use in England on the top of the bank, they plant a row

of old thorns, two or three feet high, which readily grow, and form at

once a most excellent fence. Their way also of taking in sand-banks from

the river deserves notice. They stake down a row of furzes at low water,

laying stones on them to the height of one or two feet; these retain the

mud, which every tide brings in, so as to fill up all within the furze as

high as their tops. I remarked, on the strand, that a few boatloads of

stones laid carelessly had had this effect, for within them I measured

twelve inches deep of rich blue mud left behind them, the same as they

use in manuring, full of shells, and effervesced strongly with vinegar.

Among the poor people the fishermen are in much the best circumstances.

The fishery is considerable; Waterford and its harbour have fifty boats

each, from eight to twelve tons, six men on an average to each, but to

one of six tons five men go. A boat of eight tons costs 40 pounds; one

of twelve, 60 pounds. To each boat there is a train of nets of six pair,

which costs from 4 pounds 4s. to 6 pounds 6s.; tan them with bark. Their

only net fishery is that of herrings, which is commonly carried on by

shares. The division of the fish is, first, one-fourth for the boat; and

then the men and nets divide the rest, the latter reckoned as three men.

They reckon ten maze of herrings an indifferent night's work; when there

is a good take, forty maze have been taken, twenty a good night; the

price per maze from 1s. to 7s., average 5s. Their take in 1775, the

greatest they have known, when they had more than they could dispose of,

and the whole town and country stunk of them, they retailed them

thirty-two for a penny; 1773 and 1774 good years. They barrelled many,

but in general there is an import of Swedish. Besides the common

articles I have registered, the following are: pigeons, 1s. a couple; a

hare, 1s.; partridges, 9d.; turbots, fine ones, 4s. to 10s.; soles a

pair, large, 1s. 6d to 1s.; lobsters, 3d. each; oysters, 6s. per hundred;

rabbits, 1s. to 1s. 4d. a couple; cod, 1s. each, large; salmon, 1.25d. to

2d.

A very extraordinary circumstance I was told--that within five or six

years there has been much hay carried from Waterford to Norway, in the

Norway ships that bring deals. As hay is dear here, it proves a most

backward state of husbandry in that northerly region, since the

neighbourhood of sea-ports to which this hay can alone go is generally

the best improved in all countries.

October 19, the wind being fair, took my leave of Mr. Bolton, and went

back to the ship. Met with a fresh scene of provoking delays, so that it

was the next morning, October 20, at eight o'clock, before we sailed, and

then it was not wind, but a cargo of passengers that spread our sails.

Twelve or fourteen hours are not an uncommon passage, but such was our

luck that, after being in sight of the lights on the Smalls, we were by

contrary winds blown opposite to Arklow sands. A violent gale arose,

which presently blew a storm that lasted thirty-six hours, in which,

under a reefed mainsail, the ship drifted up and down wearing in order to

keep clear of the coasts.

No wonder this appeared to me, a fresh-water sailor, as a storm, when the

oldest men on board reckoned it a violent one. The wind blew in furious

gusts; the waves ran very high; the cabin windows burst open, and the sea

pouring in set everything afloat, and among the rest a poor lady, who had

spread her bed on the floor. We had, however, the satisfaction to find,

by trying the pumps every watch, that the ship made little water. I had

more time to attend these circumstances than the rest of the passengers,

being the only one in seven who escaped without being sick. It pleased

God to preserve us, but we did not cast anchor in Milford Haven till

Tuesday morning, the 22nd, at one o'clock.

It is much to be wished that there were some means of being secure of

packets sailing regularly, instead of waiting till there is such a number

of passengers as satisfies the owner and captain. With the Post-Office

packets there is this satisfaction, and a great one it is. The contrary

conduct is so perfectly detestable that I should suppose the scheme of

Waterford ones can never succeed.

Two years after, having been assured this conveyance was put on a new

footing, I ventured to try it again, but was mortified to find that the

_Tyrone_, the only one that could take a chaise or horses (the _Countess_

being laid up), was repairing, but would sail in five days. I waited,

and received assurance after assurance that she would be ready on such a

day, and then on another. In a word, I waited twenty-four days before I

sailed. Moderately speaking, I could by Dublin have reached Turin or

Milan as soon as I did Milford in this conveyance. All this time the

papers had constant advertisements of the _Tyrone_ sailing regularly,

instead of letting the public know that she was under a repair. Her

owner seems to be a fair and worthy man; he will therefore probably give

up the scheme entirely, unless assisted by the corporation with at least

four ships more, to sail regularly with or without passengers. At

present it is a general disappointment. I was fortunate in Mr. Bolton's

acquaintance, passing my time very agreeably at his hospitable mansion;

but those who, in such a case, should find a Waterford inn their

resource, would curse the _Tyrone_, and set off for Dublin. The expenses

of this passage are higher than those from Dublin to Holyhead: I paid--

l. s. d.

A four-wheel chaise 3 3 0

Three horses 3 3 0

Self 1 1 0

Two servants 1 1 0

Custom-house at Waterford, hay, oats, etc. 2 1 7

Ditto at Pembroke and Hubberston 3 0 0

Sailors, boats, and sundry small charges 1 15 5

15 5 0

* * * * *

1777. Upon a second journey to Ireland this year, I took the opportunity

of going from Dublin to Mitchelstown, by a route through the central part

of the kingdom, which I had not before sufficiently viewed.

Left Dublin the 24th of September, and taking the road to Naas, I was

again struck with the great population of the country, the cabins being

so much poorer in the vicinity of the capital than in the more distant

parts of the kingdom.

To Kildare, crossing the Curragh, so famous for its turf. It is a

sheep-walk of above four thousand English acres, forming a more beautiful

lawn than the hand of art ever made. Nothing can exceed the extreme

softness of the turf, which is of a verdure that charms the eye, and

highly set off by the gentle inequality of surface. The soil is a fine

dry loam on a stony bottom; it is fed by many large flocks, turned on it

by the occupiers of the adjacent farms, who alone have the right, and pay

very great rents on that account. It is the only considerable common in

the kingdom. The sheep yield very little wool, not more than 3lb. per

fleece, but of a very fine quality.

From Furness to Shaen Castle, in the Queen's County, Dean Coote's; but as

the husbandry, etc., of this neighbourhood is already registered, I have

only to observe that Mr. Coote was so kind as to show me the improved

grounds of Dawson's Court, the seat of Lord Carlow, which I had not seen

before. The principal beauties of the place are the well-grown and

extensive plantations, which form a shade not often met with in Ireland.

There is in the backgrounds a lake well accompanied with wood, broken by

several islands that are covered with underwood, and an ornamented walk

passing on the banks which leads from the house. This lake is in the

season perfectly alive with wild-fowl. Near it is a very beautiful spot,

which commands a view of both woods and water; a situation either for a

house or a temple. Mr. Dawson is adding to the plantations, an

employment of all others the most meritorious in Ireland. Another work,

scarcely less so, was the erecting a large handsome inn, wherein the same

gentleman intends establishing a person who shall be able to supply

travellers post with either chaises or horses.

From Shaen Castle to Gloster, in the King's County, the seat of John

Lloyd, Esq., member for that county, to whose attention I owe the

following particulars, in which he took every means to have me well and

accurately informed. But first let me observe that I was much pleased to

remark, all the way from Naas quite to Rosscrea, that the country was

amongst the finest I had seen in Ireland, and consequently that I was

fortunate in having an opportunity of seeing it after the involuntary

omission of last year. The cabins, though many of them are very bad, yet

are better than in some other counties, and chimneys generally a part of

them. The people, too, have no very miserable appearance; the breed of

cattle and sheep good, and the hogs much the best I have anywhere seen in

Ireland. Turf is everywhere at hand, and in plenty; yet are the bogs not

so general as to affect the beauty of the country, which is very great in

many tracts, with a scattering of wood, which makes it pleasing. Shaen

Castle stands in the midst of a very fine tract. From Mountrath to

Gloster, Mr. Lloyd's, I could have imagined myself in a very pleasing

part of England. The country breaks into a variety of inequalities of

hill and dale; it is all well inclosed with fine hedges; there is a

plenty of wood, not so monopolised as in many parts of the kingdom by

here and there a solitary seat, but spread over the whole face of the

prospect: look which way you will, it is cultivated and cheerful.

The Shannon adds not a little to the convenience and agreeableness of a

residence so near it. Besides affording these sorts of wild-fowl, the

quantity and size of its fish are amazing: pikes swarm in it, and rise in

weight to fifty pounds. In the little flat spaces on its banks are small

but deep lochs, which are covered in winter and in floods. When the

river withdraws, it leaves plenty of fish in them, which are caught to

put into stews. Mr. Holmes has a small one before his door at Johnstown,

with a little stream which feeds it. A trowling-rod here gets you a bite

in a moment, of a pike from twenty to forty pounds. I ate of one of

twenty-seven pounds so taken. I had also the pleasure of seeing a

fisherman bring three trout, weighing fourteen pounds, and sell them for

sixpence-halfpenny a piece. A couple of boats lying at anchor, with

lines extended from one to the other, and hooks in plenty from them, have

been known to catch an incredible quantity of trout. Colonel Prittie, in

one morning, caught four stone odd pounds, thirty-two trout. In general

they rise from three to nine pounds. Perch swarm; they appeared in the

Shannon for the first time about ten years ago, in such plenty that the

poor lived on them. Bream of six pounds; eels very plentiful. There are

many gillaroos in the river; one of twelve pounds weight was sent to Mr.

Jenkinson. Upon the whole, these circumstances, with the pleasure of

shooting and boating on the river, added to the glorious view it yields,

and which is enough at any time to cheer the mind, render this

neighbourhood one of the most enviable situations to live in that I have

seen in Ireland. The face of the country gives every circumstance of

beauty. From Killodeernan Hill, behind the new house building by Mr.

Holmes, the whole is seen to great advantage. The spreading part of the

Shannon, called Loch Derg, is commanded distinctly for many miles. It is

in two grand divisions of great variety: that to the north is a reach of

five miles leading to Portumna. The whole hither shore a scenery of

hills, checkered by enclosures and little woods, and retiring from the

eye into a rich distant prospect. The woods of Doras, belonging to Lord

Clanricarde, form a part of the opposite shore, and the river itself

presents an island of one hundred and twenty acres. Inclining to the

left, a vale of rough ground, with an old castle in it, is backed by a

bold hill, which intercepts the river there, and then the great reach of

fifteen miles, the bay of Sheriff, spreads to the eye, with a

magnificence not a little added to by the boundary, a sharp outline of

the county of Clare mountains, between which and the Duharrow hills the

Shannon finds its way. These hills lead the eye still more to the left,

till the Keeper meets it, presenting a very beautiful outline that sinks

into other ranges of hill, uniting with the Devil's Bit. The home

scenery of the grounds, woods, hills, and lake of Johnstown, is

beautiful.

Dancing is very general among the poor people, almost universal in every

cabin. Dancing-masters of their own rank travel through the country from

cabin to cabin, with a piper or blind fiddler, and the pay is sixpence a

quarter. It is an absolute system of education. Weddings are always

celebrated with much dancing, and a Sunday rarely passes without a dance.

There are very few among them who will not, after a hard day's work,

gladly walk seven miles to have a dance. John is not so lively, but then

a hard day's work with him is certainly a different affair from what it

is with Paddy. Other branches of education are likewise much attended

to, every child of the poorest family learning to read, write, and cast

accounts.

There is a very ancient custom here, for a number of country neighbours

among the poor people to fix upon some young woman that ought, as they

think, to be married. They also agree upon a young fellow as a proper

husband for her. This determined, they send to the fair one's cabin to

inform her that on the Sunday following "she is to be horsed," that is,

carried on men's backs. She must then provide whisky and cider for a

treat, as all will pay her a visit after mass for a hurling match. As

soon as she is horsed, the hurling begins, in which the young fellow

appointed for her husband has the eyes of all the company fixed on him.

If he comes off conqueror, he is certainly married to the girl; but if

another is victorious, he as certainly loses her, for she is the prize of

the victor. These trials are not always finished in one Sunday; they

take sometimes two or three, and the common expression when they are over

is, that "such a girl was goaled." Sometimes one barony hurls against

another, but a marriageable girl is always the prize. Hurling is a sort

of cricket, but instead of throwing the ball in order to knock down a

wicket, the aim is to pass it through a bent stick, the end stuck in the

ground. In these matches they perform such feats of activity as ought to

evidence the food they live on to be far from deficient in nourishment.

In the hills above Derry are some very fine slate quarries, that employ

sixty men. The quarrymen are paid 3s. a thousand for the slates, and the

labourers 5d. a day. They are very fine, and sent by the Shannon to

distant parts of the kingdom; the price at the quarry 6s. a thousand, and

at the shore 6s. 8d. Four hundred thousand slates are raised to pay the

rent only, from which some estimate may be made of the quantity.

Mr. Head has a practice in his fences which deserves universal imitation;

it is planting trees for gate-posts. Stone piers are expensive, and

always tumbling down; trees are beautiful, and never want repairing.

Within fifteen years this gentleman has improved Derry so much, that

those who had only seen it before would find it almost a new creation.

He has built a handsome stone house, on the slope of a hill rising from

the Shannon, and backed by some fine woods, which unite with many old

hedges well planted to form a woodland scene beautiful in the contrast to

the bright expanse of the noble river below. The declivity on which

these woods are finishes in a mountain, which rises above the whole. The

Shannon gives a bend around the adjoining lands, so as to be seen from

the house both to the west and north, the lawn falling gradually to a

margin of wood on the shore, which varies the outline. The river is two

miles broad, and on the opposite shore cultivated inclosures rise in some

places almost to the mountain top, which is very bold.

It is a very singular demesne; a stripe of very beautiful ground,

reaching two miles along the banks of the river, which forms his fence on

one side, with a wall on the other. There is so much wood as to render

it very pleasing; adding to every day by planting all the fences made or

repaired. From several little hills, which rise in different parts of

it, extensive views of the river are commanded quite to Portumna; but

these are much eclipsed by that from the top of the hill above the slate

quarry. From thence you see the river for at least forty miles, from

Portumna to twenty miles beyond Limerick. It has the appearance of a

fine basin, two miles over, into which three great rivers lead, being the

north and south course and the Bay of Sheriff. The reaches of it one

beyond another to Portumna are fine. At the foot of the mountain Mr.

Head's demesne extends in a shore of rich woodland.

October 7. Took my leave of Mr. Head, after passing four days very

agreeably. Through Killaloe, over the Shannon, a very long bridge of

many arches; went out of the road to see a fall of that river at Castle

Connel, where there is such an accompaniment of wood as to form a very

pleasing scenery. The river takes a very rapid rocky course around a

projecting rock, on which a gentleman has built a summer-house, and

formed a terrace: it is a striking spot. To Limerick. Laid at Bennis's,

the first inn we had slept in from Dublin. God preserve us this journey

from another!

It is not uncommon, especially in mountainous countries, to find objects

that much deserve the attention of travellers entirely neglected by them.

There are a few instances of this upon Lord Kingsborough's estate, in the

neighbourhood of Mitchelstown. The first I shall mention is a cave at

Skeheenrinky, on the road between Cahir and that place. The opening to

it is a cleft of rock in a limestone hill, so narrow as to be difficult

to get into it. I descended by a ladder of about twenty steps, and then

found myself in a vault of a hundred feet long, and fifty or sixty high.

A small hole on the left leads from this a winding course of I believe

not less than half an Irish mile, exhibiting a variety that struck me

much. In some places the cavity in the rock is so large that when well

lighted up by candles (not flambeaux; Lord Kingsborough once showed it me

with them, and we found their smoke troublesome) it takes the appearance

of a vaulted cathedral, supported by massy columns. The walls, ceiling,

floor, and pillars, are by turns composed of every fantastic form; and

often of very beautiful incrustations of spar, some of which glitters so

much that it seems powdered with diamonds; and in others the ceiling is

formed of that sort which has so near a resemblance to a cauliflower.

The spar formed into columns by the dropping of water has taken some very

regular forms; but others are different, folded in plaits of light

drapery, which hang from their support in a very pleasing manner. The

angles of the walls seem fringed with icicles. One very long branch of

the cave, which turns to the north, is in some places so narrow and low,

that one crawls into it, when it suddenly breaks into large vaulted

spaces, in a thousand forms. The spar in all this cave is very

brilliant, and almost equal to Bristol stone. For several hundred yards

in the larger branch there is a deep water at the bottom of the declivity

to the right, which the common people call the river. A part of the way

is over a sort of potter's clay, which moulds into any form, and is of a

brown colour; a very different soil from any in the neighbouring country.

I have seen the famous cave in the Peak, but think it very much inferior

to this; and Lord Kingsborough, who has viewed the Grot d'Aucel in

Burgundy, says that it is not to be compared with it.

But the commanding region of the Galtees deserves more attention. Those

who are fond of scenes in which Nature reigns in all her wild

magnificence should visit this stupendous chain. It consists of many

vast mountains, thrown together in an assemblage of the most interesting

features, from the boldness and height of the declivities, freedom of

outline, and variety of parts, filling a space of about six miles by

three or four. Galtymore is the highest point, and rises like the lord

and father of the surrounding progeny. From the top you look down upon a

great extent of mountain, which shelves away from him to the south, east,

and west; but to the north the ridge is almost a perpendicular declivity.

On that side the famous golden vale of Limerick and Tipperary spreads a

rich level to the eye, bounded by the mountains of Clare, King's and

Queen's Counties, with the course of the Shannon, for many miles below

Limerick. To the south you look over alternate ridges of mountains,

which rise one beyond another, till in a clear day the eye meets the

ocean near Dungarvan. The mountains of Waterford and Knockmealdown fill

up the space to the south-east. The western is the most extensive view;

for nothing stops the eye till Mangerton and Macgillicuddy Reeks point

out the spot where Killarney's lake calls for a farther excursion. The

prospect extends into eight counties--Cork, Kerry, Waterford, Limerick,

Clare, Queen's, Tipperary, King's.

A little to the west of this proud summit, below it in a very

extraordinary hollow, is a circular lake of two acres, reported to be

unfathomable. The descriptions which I have read of the craters of

exhausted volcanoes leave very little doubt of this being one; and the

conical regularity of the summit of Galtymore speaks the same language.

East of this respectable hill, to use Sir William Hamilton's language, is

a declivity of about one-quarter of a mile, and there Galtybeg rises in a

yet more regular cone; and between the two hills is another lake, which

from its position seems to have been once the crater which threw up

Galtybeg, as the first mentioned was the origin of Galtymore. Beyond the

former hill is a third lake, and east of that another hill; I was told of

a fourth, with another corresponding mountain. It is only the mere

summits of these mountains which rise above the lakes. Speaking of them

below, they may be said to be on the tops of the hills. They are all of

them at the bottom of an almost regularly circular hollow. On the side

next the mountain-top are walls of perpendicular rocks, in regular

strata, and some of them piled on each other, with an appearance of art

rather than nature. In these rocks the eagles, which are seen in numbers

on the Galtees, have their nests. Supposing the mountains to be of

volcanic origin, and these lakes the craters, of which I have not a

doubt, they are objects of the greatest curiosity, for there is an

unusual regularity in every considerable summit having its corresponding

crater. But without this circumstance, the scenery is interesting in a

very great degree. The mountain summits, which are often wrapped in the

clouds, at other times exhibit the freest outline; the immense scooped

hollows which sink at your feet, declivities of so vast a depth as to

give one terror to look down; with the unusual forms of the lower region

of hills, particularly Bull Hill, and Round Hill, each a mile over, yet

rising out of circular vales, with the regularity of semi-globes, unite

upon the whole to exhibit a scenery to the eye in which the parts are of

a magnitude so commanding, a character so interesting, and a variety so

striking, that they well deserve to be examined by every curious

traveller.

Nor are these immense outlines the whole of what is to be seen in this

great range of mountains. Every glen has its beauties: there is a

considerable mountain river, or rather torrent, in every one of them; but

the greatest are the Funcheon, between Sefang and Galtymore; the

Limestone river, between Galtymore and Round Hill, and the Grouse river,

between Coolegarranroe and Mr. O'Callaghan's mountain; these present to

the eye, for a tract of about three miles, every variety that rock,

water, and mountain can give, thrown into all the fantastic forms which

art may attempt in ornamented grounds, but always fails in. Nothing can

exceed the beauty of the water, when not discoloured by rain; its lucid

transparency shows, at considerable depths, every pebble no bigger than a

pin, every rocky basin alive with trout and eels, that play and dash

among the rocks as if endowed with that native vigour which animates, in

a superior degree, every inhabitant of the mountains, from the bounding

red deer and the soaring eagle down even to the fishes of the brook.

Every five minutes you have a water-fall in these glens, which in any

other region would stop every traveller to admire it. Sometimes the vale

takes a gentle declivity, and presents to the eye at one stroke twenty or

thirty falls, which render the scenery all alive with motion; the rocks

are tossed about in the wildest confusion, and the torrent bursts by

turns from above, beneath, and under them; while the background is always

filled up with the mountains which stretch around.

In the western glen is the finest cascade in all the Galtees. There are

two falls, with a basin in the rock between, but from some points of view

they appear one: the rock over which the water tumbles is about sixty

feet high. A good line in which to view these objects is either to take

the Killarney and Mallow road to Mitchelstown and from thence by Lord

Kingsborough's new one to Skeheenrinky, there to take one of the glens to

Galtybeg and Galtymore, and return to Mitchelstown by the Wolf's Track,

Temple Hill, and the Waterfall; or, if the Cork road is travelling, to

make Dobbin's inn, at Ballyporeen, the head-quarters, and view them from

thence.

* * * * *

Having heard much of the beauties of a part of the Queen's County I had

not before seen, I took that line of country in my way on a journey to

Dublin.

From Mitchelstown to Cashel, the road leads as far as Galbally in the

route already travelled from Cullen. Towards Cashel the country is

various. The only objects deserving attention are the plantations of

Thomastown, the seat of Francis Mathew, Esq.; they consist chiefly of

hedgerow trees in double and treble rows, are well grown, and of such

extent as to form an uncommon woodland scene in Ireland. Found the widow

Holland's inn, at Cashel, clean and very civil. Take the road to

Urlingford. The rich sheep pastures, part of the famous golden vale,

reach between three and four miles from Cashel to the great bog by Botany

Hill, noted for producing a greater variety of plants than common. That

bog is separated by only small tracts of land from the string of bogs

which extend through the Queen's County, from the great bog of Allen; it

is here of considerable extent, and exceedingly improvable. Then enter a

low marshy bad country, which grows worse after passing the sixty-sixth

milestone, and successive bogs in it. Breakfast at Johnstown, a regular

village on a slight eminence, built by Mr. Hayley. It is near the spa of

Ballyspellin.

Rows of trees are planted, but their heads all cut off, I suppose from

their not thriving, being planted too old. Immediately on leaving these

planted avenues, enter a row of eight or ten new cabins, at a distance

from each other, which appear to be a new undertaking, the land about

them all pared and burnt, and the ashes in heaps.

Enter a fine planted country, with much corn and good thriving quick

hedges for many miles. The road leads through a large wood, which joins

Lord Ashbrook's plantations, whose house is situated in the midst of more

wood than almost any one I have seen in Ireland. Pass Durrow; the

country for two or three miles continues all inclosed with fine quick

hedges, is beautiful, and has some resemblance to the best parts of

Essex. Sir Robert Staple's improvements join this fine tract. They are

completed in a most perfect manner, the hedges well grown, cut, and in

such excellent order that I can scarcely believe myself to be in Ireland.

His gates are all of iron. These sylvan scenes continue through other

seats, beautifully situated amidst gentle declivities of the finest

verdure, full-grown woods, excellent hedges, and a pretty river winding

by the house. The whole environs of several would be admired in the best

parts of England.

Cross a great bog, within sight of Lord de Vesci's plantations. The road

leads over it, being drained for that purpose by deep cuts on either

side. I should apprehend this bog to be among the most improvable in the

country. Slept at Ballyroan, at an inn kept by three animals who call

themselves women; met with more impertinence than at any other in

Ireland. It is an execrable hole. In three or four miles pass Sir John

Parnel's, prettily situated in a neatly dressed lawn, with much wood

about it, and a lake quite alive with wild fowl.

Pass Monstereven, and cross directly a large bog, drained and partly

improved; but all of it bearing grass, and seems in a state that might

easily be reduced to rich meadow, with only a dressing of lime. Here I

got again into the road I had travelled before.

I must in general remark, that from near Urlingford to Dawson Court, near

Monstereven, which is completely across the Queen's County, is a line of

above thirty English miles, and is for that extent by much the most

improved of any I have seen in Ireland. It is generally well planted,

has many woods, and not consisting of patches of plantation just by

gentlemen's houses, but spreading over the whole face of the country, so

as to give it the richness of an English woodland scene. What a country

would Ireland be had the inhabitants of the rest of it improved the whole

like this!

PART II.

SECTION I.--Soil, Face of the Country, and Climate.

To judge of Ireland by the conversation one sometimes hears in England,

it would be supposed that one-half of it was covered with bogs, and the

other with mountains filled with Irish ready to fly at the sight of a

civilised being. There are people who will smile when they hear that, in

proportion to the size of the two countries, Ireland is more cultivated

than England, having much less waste land of all sorts. Of uncultivated

mountains there are no such tracts as are found in our four northern

counties, and the North Riding of Yorkshire, with the eastern line of

Lancaster, nearly down to the Peak of Derby, which form an extent of

above a hundred miles of waste. The most considerable of this sort in

Ireland are in Kerry, Galway, and Mayo, and some in Sligo and Donegal.

But all these together will not make the quantity we have in the four

northern counties; the valleys in the Irish mountains are also more

inhabited, I think, than those of England, except where there are mines,

and consequently some sort of cultivation creeping up the sides. Natural

fertility, acre for acre over the two kingdoms, is certainly in favour of

Ireland; of this I believe there can scarcely be a doubt entertained,

when it is considered that some of the more beautiful, and even best

cultivated counties in England, owe almost everything to the capital,

art, and industry of the inhabitants.

The circumstance which strikes me as the greatest singularity of Ireland

is the rockiness of the soil, which should seem at first sight against

that degree of fertility; but the contrary is the fact. Stone is so

general, that I have great reason to believe the whole island is one vast

rock of different strata and kinds rising out of the sea. I have rarely

heard of any great depths being sunk without meeting with it. In general

it appears on the surface in every part of the kingdom; the flattest and

most fertile parts, as Limerick, Tipperary, and Meath, have it at no

great depth, almost as much as the more barren ones. May we not

recognise in this the hand of bounteous Providence, which has given

perhaps the most stony soil in Europe to the moistest climate in it? If

as much rain fell upon the clays of England (a soil very rarely met with

in Ireland, and never without much stone) as falls upon the rocks of her

sister island, those lands could not be cultivated. But the rocks are

here clothed with verdure; those of limestone, with only a thin covering

of mould, have the softest and most beautiful turf imaginable.

Of the great advantages resulting from the general plenty of limestone

and limestone gravel, and the nature of the bogs, I shall have occasion

to speak more particularly hereafter.

The rockiness of the soil in Ireland is so universal that it predominates

in every sort. One cannot use with propriety the terms clay, loam, sand,

etc.; it must be a stony clay, a stony loam, a gravelly sand. Clay,

especially the yellow, is much talked of in Ireland, but it is for want

of proper discrimination. I have once or twice seen almost a pure clay

upon the surface, but it is extremely rare. The true yellow clay is

usually found in a thin stratum under the surface mould, and over a rock;

harsh, tenacious, stony, strong loams, difficult to work, are not

uncommon: but they are quite different from English clays.

Friable, sandy loams, dry but fertile, are very common, and they form the

best soils in the kingdom for tillage and sheep. Tipperary and Roscommon

abound particularly in them. The most fertile of all are the bullock

pastures of Limerick, and the banks of the Shannon in Clare, called the

Corcasses. These are a mellow, putrid, friable loam.

Sand which is so common in England, and yet more common through Spain,

France, Germany, and Poland, quite from Gibraltar to Petersburg, is

nowhere met with in Ireland, except for narrow slips of hillocks, upon

the sea coast. Nor did I ever meet with or hear of a chalky soil.

The bogs, of which foreigners have heard so much, are very extensive in

Ireland; that of Allen extends eighty miles, and is computed to contain

three hundred thousand acres. There are others also, very extensive, and

smaller ones scattered over the whole kingdom; but these are not in

general more than are wanted for fuel. When I come to speak of the

improvement of waste lands, I shall describe them particularly.

Besides the great fertility of the soil, there are other circumstances

which come within my sphere to mention. Few countries can be better

watered by large and beautiful rivers; and it is remarkable that by much

the finest parts of the kingdom are on the banks of these rivers.

Witness the Suir, Blackwater, the Liffey, the Boyne, the Nore, the

Barrow, and part of the Shannon, they wash a scenery that can hardly be

exceeded. From the rockiness of the country, however, there are few of

them that have not obstructions, which are great impediments to inland

navigation.

The mountains of Ireland give to travelling that interesting variety

which a flat country can never abound with. And, at the same time, they

are not in such number as to confer the usual character of poverty which

attends them. I was either upon or very near the most considerable in

the kingdom. Mangerton, and the Reeks, in Kerry; the Galties in Cork;

those of Mourne in Down; Crow Patrick, and Nephin in Mayo, these are the

principal in Ireland, and they are of a character, in height and

sublimity, which should render them the objects of every traveller's

attention.

Relative to the climate of Ireland, a short residence cannot enable a man

to speak much from his own experience; the observations I have made

myself confirm the idea of its being vastly wetter than England; from the

20th of June to the 20th of October I kept a register, and there were, in

one hundred and twenty-two days, seventy-five of rain, and very many of

them incessant and heavy. I have examined similar registers I kept in

England, and can find no year that even approaches to such a moisture as

this. But there is a register of an accurate diary published which

compares London and Cork. The result is, that the quantity at the latter

place was double to that at London. See Smith's "History of Cork."

From the information I received, I have reason to believe that the rainy

season sets in usually about the first of July and continues very wet

till September or October, when there is usually a dry fine season of a

month or six weeks. I resided in the county of Cork, etc., from October

till March, and found the winter much more soft and mild than ever I

experienced one in England. I was also a whole summer there (1778), and

it is fair to mention that it was as fine a one as ever I knew in

England, though by no means so hot. I think hardly so wet as very many I

have known in England. The tops of the Galty mountains exhibited the

only snow we saw; and as to frosts, they were so slight and rare that I

believe myrtles, and yet tenderer plants, would have survived without any

covering. But when I say that the winter was not remarkable for being

wet, I do not mean that we had a dry atmosphere. The inches of rain

which fell in the winter I speak of would not mark the moisture of the

climate. As many inches will fall in a single tropical shower as in a

whole year in England. See Mitchel's "Present State of Great Britain and

North America." But if the clouds presently disperse, and a bright sun

shines, the air may soon be dry. The worst circumstance of the climate

of Ireland is the constant moisture without rain. Wet a piece of

leather, and lay it in a room where there is neither sun nor fire, and it

will not in summer even be dry in a month. I have known gentlemen in

Ireland deny their climate being moister than England, but if they have

eyes let them open them, and see the verdure that clothes their rocks,

and compare it with ours in England--where rocky soils are of a russet

brown however sweet the food for sheep. Does not their island lie more

exposed to the great Atlantic; and does not the west wind blow

three-fourths of a year? If there was another island yet more westward,

would not the climate of Ireland be improved? Such persons speak equally

against fact, reason, and philosophy. That the moisture of a climate

does not depend on the quantity of rain that falls, but on the powers of

aerial evaporation, Dr. Dobson has clearly proved. "Phil. Trans." vol.

lxvii., part i., p. 244.

Oppression.

Before I conclude this article of the common labouring poor in Ireland, I

must observe, that their happiness depends not merely upon the payment of

their labour, their clothes, or their food; the subordination of the

lower classes, degenerating into oppression, is not to be overlooked.

The poor in all countries, and under all governments, are both paid and

fed, yet there is an infinite difference between them in different ones.

This inquiry will by no means turn out so favourable as the preceding

articles. It must be very apparent to every traveller through that

country, that the labouring poor are treated with harshness, and are in

all respects so little considered that their want of importance seems a

perfect contrast to their situation in England, of which country,

comparatively speaking, they reign the sovereigns. The age has improved

so much in humanity, that even the poor Irish have experienced its

influence, and are every day treated better and better; but still the

remnant of the old manners, the abominable distinction of religion,

united with the oppressive conduct of the little country gentlemen, or

rather vermin of the kingdom, who never were out of it, altogether bear

still very heavy on the poor people, and subject them to situations more

mortifying than we ever behold in England. The landlord of an Irish

estate, inhabited by Roman Catholics, is a sort of despot who yields

obedience, in whatever concerns the poor, to no law but that of his will.

To discover what the liberty of the people is, we must live among them,

and not look for it in the statutes of the realm: the language of written

law may be that of liberty, but the situation of the poor may speak no

language but that of slavery. There is too much of this contradiction in

Ireland; a long series of oppressions, aided by many very ill-judged

laws, have brought landlords into a habit of exerting a very lofty

superiority, and their vassals into that of an almost unlimited

submission: speaking a language that is despised, professing a religion

that is abhorred and being disarmed, the poor find themselves in many

cases slaves even in the bosom of written liberty. Landlords that have

resided much abroad are usually humane in their ideas, but the habit of

tyranny naturally contracts the mind, so that even in this polished age

there are instances of a severe carriage towards the poor, which is quite

unknown in England.

A landlord in Ireland can scarcely invent an order which a servant,

labourer, or cottar dares to refuse to execute. Nothing satisfies him

but an unlimited submission. Disrespect, or anything tending towards

sauciness, he may punish with his cane or his horsewhip with the most

perfect security; a poor man would have his bones broke if he offered to

lift his hands in his own defence. Knocking-down is spoken of in the

country in a manner that makes an Englishman stare. Landlords of

consequence have assured me that many of their cottars would think

themselves honoured by having their wives and daughters sent for to the

bed of their master; a mark of slavery that proves the oppression under

which such people must live. Nay, I have heard anecdotes of the lives of

people being made free with without any apprehension of the justice of a

jury. But let it not be imagined that this is common; formerly it

happened every day, but law gains ground. It must strike the most

careless traveller to see whole strings of cars whipped into a ditch by a

gentleman's footman to make way for his carriage; if they are overturned

or broken in pieces, no matter, it is taken in patience; were they to

complain they would perhaps be horsewhipped. The execution of the laws

lies very much in the hands of justices of the peace, many of whom are

drawn from the most illiberal class in the kingdom. If a poor man lodges

a complaint against a gentleman, or any animal that chooses to call

itself a gentleman, and the justice issues out a summons for his

appearance, it is a fixed affront, and he will infallibly be called out.

Where manners are in conspiracy against law, to whom are the oppressed

people to have recourse? It is a fact, that a poor man having a contest

with a gentleman, must--but I am talking nonsense, they know their

situation too well to think of it; they can have no defence, but by means

of protection from one gentleman against another, who probably protects

his vassal as he would the sheep he intends to eat.

The colours of this picture are not charged. To assert that all these

cases are common would be an exaggeration, but to say that an unfeeling

landlord will do all this with impunity, is to keep strictly to truth:

and what is liberty but a farce and a jest, if its blessings are received

as the favour of kindness and humanity, instead of being the inheritance

of right?

Consequences have flowed from these oppressions which ought long ago to

have put a stop to them. In England we have heard much of White-boys,

Steel-boys, Oak-boys, Peep-of-day-boys, etc. But these various

insurgents are not to be confounded, for they are very different. The

proper distinction in the discontents of the people is into Protestant

and Catholic. All but the White-boys were among the manufacturing

Protestants in the north: the White-boys Catholic labourers in the south.

From the best intelligence I could gain, the riots of the manufacturers

had no other foundation but such variations in the manufacture as all

fabrics experience, and which they had themselves known and submitted to

before. The case, however, was different with the White-boys, who being

labouring Catholics met with all those oppressions I have described, and

would probably have continued in full submission had not very severe

treatment in respect of tithes, united with a great speculative rise of

rent about the same time, blown up the flame of resistance; the atrocious

acts they were guilty of made them the object of general indignation;

acts were passed for their punishment, which seemed calculated for the

meridian of Barbary. This arose to such a height that by one they were

to be hanged under circumstances without the common formalities of a

trial, which, though repealed the following session, marks the spirit of

punishment; while others remain yet the law of the land, that would if

executed tend more to raise than quell an insurrection. From all which

it is manifest that the gentlemen of Ireland never thought of a radical

cure from overlooking the real cause of the disease, which in fact lay in

themselves, and not in the wretches they doomed to the gallows. Let them

change their own conduct entirely, and the poor will not long riot.

Treat them like men who ought to be as free as yourselves. Put an end to

that system of religious persecution which for seventy years has divided

the kingdom against itself; in these two circumstances lies the cure of

insurrection; perform them completely, and you will have an affectionate

poor, instead of oppressed and discontented vassals.

A better treatment of the poor in Ireland is a very material point of the

welfare of the whole British Empire. Events may happen which may

convince us fatally of this truth; if not, oppression must have broken

all the spirit and resentment of men. By what policy the Government of

England can for so many years have permitted such an absurd system to be

matured in Ireland is beyond the power of plain sense to discover.

Emigrations.

Before the American war broke out, the Irish and Scotch emigrations were

a constant subject of conversation in England, and occasioned much

discourse even in parliament. The common observation was, that if they

were not stopped, those countries would be ruined, and they were

generally attributed to a great rise of rents. Upon going over to

Ireland I determined to omit no opportunities of discovering the cause

and extent of this emigration, and my information, as may be seen in the

minutes of the journey, was very regular. I have only a few general

remarks to make on it here.

The spirit of emigration in Ireland appeared to be confined to two

circumstances, the Presbyterian religion, and the linen manufacture. I

heard of very few emigrants except among manufacturers of that

persuasion. The Catholics never went; they seem not only tied to the

country, but almost to the parish in which their ancestors lived. As to

the emigration in the north it was an error in England to suppose it a

novelty which arose with the increase in rents. The contrary was the

fact; it had subsisted perhaps forty years, insomuch that at the ports of

Belfast, Derry, etc., the passenger trade, as they called it, had long

been a regular branch of commerce, which employed several ships, and

consisted in carrying people to America. The increasing population of

the country made it an increasing trade, but when the linen trade was

low, the passenger trade was always high. At the time of Lord Donegan

letting his estate in the north, the linen business suffered a temporary

decline, which sent great numbers to America, and gave rise to the error

that it was occasioned by the increase of his rents. The fact, however,

was otherwise, for great numbers of those who went from his lands

actually sold those leases for considerable sums, the hardship of which

was supposed to have driven them to America. Some emigration, therefore,

always existed, and its increase depended on the fluctuations of linen;

but as to the effect there was as much error in the conclusions drawn in

England as before in the cause.

It is the misfortune of all manufactures worked for a foreign market to

be upon an insecure footing; periods of declension will come, and when in

consequence of them great numbers of people are out of employment, the

best circumstance is their enlisting in the army or navy, and it is the

common result; but unfortunately the manufacture in Ireland (of which I

shall have occasion to speak more hereafter) is not confined as it ought

to be to towns, but spreads into all cabins of the country. Being half

farmers, half manufacturers, they have too much property in cattle, etc.,

to enlist when idle; if they convert it into cash it will enable them to

pay their passage to America, an alternative always chosen in preference

to the military life. The consequence is, that they must live without

work till their substance is quite consumed before they will enlist. Men

who are in such a situation that from various causes they cannot work,

and won't enlist, should emigrate; if they stay at home they must remain

a burthen upon the community. Emigration should not, therefore, be

condemned in states so ill-governed as to possess many people willing to

work, but without employment.

A Tour in Ireland. 1776-1779 · 第 1 / 3 章