I am in most agreeable quarters. The manner of living is 'comfortable'
the society cordial, 'la chere excellente,' and the freedom, as it is
every where in the country, perfect. Yesterday I took a very agreeable
ride of some twenty miles on an untireable horse of my host's;--for
distances disappear before the excellence of the horses and of the
roads:--I must tell you all I saw.
I rode first to the small town of St. Asaph to look at the cathedral,
which is adorned with a beautiful window of modern painted glass. Many
coats of arms were extremely well executed, and the artist had the good
sense to avoid the common error of endeavouring to represent objects not
suited to his art, which requires masses of colour and no delicate and
floating shades. To obtain a more perfect knowledge of the country, I
ascended the tower. At a distance of about twelve miles I espied a
church-like building on the summit of a high mountain, and asked the
clerk what it was. He replied, in broken English, that it was 'the
king's tabernacle,' and that whoever would pass seven years without
washing himself, cutting his nails, or shaving his beard, would be
allowed to live there; and at the expiration of the seventh year he
would have a right to go to London, where the king must give him a
pension and make him a 'gentleman.' The man believed this wild story
implicitly, and swore to its truth; 'Voilà ce que c'est que la foi.'
I inquired afterwards the true state of the affair, and heard the origin
of this history; namely, that the building was erected by the province,
or 'county,' to commemorate the jubilee of the last king's reign, and
had stood empty ever since: but that a wag had advertised a considerable
reward in the newspapers, to any man who would fulfil the above-named
conditions. The common people had mixed up this strange ordeal with the
'tabernacle' of King George III.
I descended the towers, and now you may see me galloping at the foot of
some gentle slopes, till I reach a rocky isolated hill, on which stands
Denbigh Castle. The side of the hill is covered with the ruinous houses
and huts of the miserable little town, and you climb through its narrow
lanes to the top. A gentleman, who afterwards declared himself to be the
surgeon of the town, very kindly showed me the way, and did the honours
of the ruins with great politeness. Here is a sort of casino most
romantically situated within the walls, and a very pretty flower-garden,
commanding a beautiful view. The rest of this vast edifice offers only a
neglected labyrinth of walls, standing amid the rank luxuriance of grass
and thistles. Every third year, notwithstanding, a great national
festival is held on this spot;--the meeting of Welsh bards, who, like
the old German Minnesingers, repair hither to a trial of skill. The
victor wins a golden cup; and a chorus of a hundred harps resounds to
his fame amid these ruins. The meeting will take place in three months,
when the Duke of Sussex is expected to be present.
Following a ravine, I now entered a most lovely valley. Deep wood
overshadowed me; rocks stretched out their mossy heads, like old
acquaintances--from the branches; the wild torrent foamed, leaping and
dancing amid the flowers; and the golden-green of the meadows here and
there gleamed through the shade. I wandered for some hours in this
place, and then climbed the heights by a weary foot-path, to discover
where I was. I stood immediately above the bay and the broad tranquil
sea, which appeared to be nearer to the gentle descent in front than it
really was. After some effort, I espied among the groups of trees on the
plain the house of K---- park, and trotting briskly onward, reached it
in time to dress for dinner.
_August 5th._
I walked this morning, while all the rest of the family were still in
bed, with the charming little Fanny, the youngest daughter of the house
who is not yet 'out.'[120] She took me round the park and garden, and
showed me her 'dairy' and 'aviary.'
I told you once before, that the dairy is one of the principal
decorations of an English park, and stands by itself, quite away from
the cow-house. It is generally an elegant pavilion, adorned with
fountains, marble walls, and rare and beautiful porcelain; and its
vessels, large and small, filled with the most exquisite milk and its
products, in all their varieties. There can be no better place of
refreshment after a walk. It is of course surrounded by a flower-garden,
which the English love to attach to all their buildings. In this, the
mineral rivalled the vegetable kingdom in brilliancy and beauty of
colour. The proprietor has a share in the principal copper mines in
Anglesea, and little mountains of ore, glittering with red, blue, and
green, formed a gorgeous bed for rare and curious plants.
The aviary, which elsewhere is filled with gold pheasants and other
foreign birds, was here more usefully tenanted; and was exclusively
devoted to cocks and hens, geese, ducks, peacocks, and pigeons. It was
however, from its extraordinary cleanliness and nice adaptation, a very
pretty and agreeable sight. German housewives, listen and wonder! Twice
a-day are the yards, which are provided with the most beautiful
receptacles of water,--the separate houses, pigeon-holes, &c.,--twice
a-day are they cleaned: the straw nests of the hens were so pretty; the
perches on which the fowls roost, so smooth and clean; the water in the
stone basins, which served as duck-ponds, so clear; the barley and the
boiled rice (equal to Parisian 'riz au lait') so tempting--that one
thought one's self in the Paradise of fowls. They enjoyed, too, the
freedom of Paradise: here were no clipped wings; and a little grove of
high trees, close by their house, formed their pleasure-ground. Most of
them were still poised in air, waving to and fro on the topmost boughs,
when we arrived: but scarcely did they espy the rosy little Fanny
tripping towards them, with dainties in her apron, like a beneficent
fairy, than they flew down in a tumultuous cloud, and ran to her feet,
pecking and fluttering. I felt a sort of pastoral sensibility come over
me, and turned homewards, to get rid of my fit of romance before
breakfast. But now the children's gardens were to be visited, and a sort
of summer house, and heaven knows what;--in short, we were too late, and
got a scolding. Miss Fanny exclaimed, with true English pathos,--
"We do but row,
And we are steer'd by fate;"
in the words of our proverb, _Der Mensch denkt Gott lenkt_. Yes, indeed,
thought I, the little philosopher is right: things always turn out
differently from what one intends, even in such small events as these.
After dinner I mounted my horse again. I sought the most untracked ways
in the wildest mountain country on the land side, frequently fording the
rapid stream, and revelling in the most beautiful and striking scenery.
Here and there I met a country girl working in the fields. They are
strikingly pretty in the singular costume which sets off their fine
persons to the greatest advantage. They are moreover shy as roes, and
chaste as vestals. Every thing shows the mountain character; my horse
among the rest:--unwearied as a machine of steel, he gallops over the
stones, up hill and down; leaps with undisturbed composure over the
gates which continually intercept my way across the fields, and tires me
long before he feels the least fatigue himself. This, to me, is the true
pleasure of riding; I love to traverse mile after mile of country which
I had never seen before, where I know not whither I am going, and must
find out my way back as I can.
To-day I came upon a park, in which wooden statues painted white
contrasted strangely with the sublimity of nature. No human being was
visible; only hundreds of rabbits put their heads out of the holes in
the side of the hill, or coursed rapidly across the road. All sorts of
strange and curious devices marked the proprietor as an original. The
only thing that pleased me was a dark fir grove, surrounded by a belt of
bright crimson mallows. I at length reached the top, a bare hill, and
went out as I had come in, through a gate, which fell to of itself. The
same solitude reigned throughout, and the enchanted castle was soon far
behind me.
_Bangor, August 8th._
I was to stay some weeks at K---- park: but you know my restlessness;
uniformity, even of the good, soon wearies me. I therefore took leave of
my kind friends,--made a visit of some hours, instead of days, to
another country-gentleman who had invited me,--saw a sun-set from the
ruins of Conway Castle,--ate a plaice, and returned to my head-quarters,
which I now leave for ever. I am unfortunately not very well, my chest
seems somewhat the worse for my late fatigues, and frequently gives me
great pain; 'mais n'importe.'
_Craig y Don, August 9th, early._
Do you recollect this name? It is the beautiful villa which I described
to you. I have since become acquainted with its amiable possesor, whose
friendly invitation to spend my last night in Wales with him I could not
resist. The pain in my chest prevented my taking more than short walks
in the garden, with the son of my host; and the attempt to climb a hill
in the neighbourhood made me so ill that I was obliged to amuse myself
after dinner with reading the newspaper. In this vast desert I met with
only one thing which I think worth quoting to you. The article treated
of the speech from the throne, in which were the words "The Speaker is
commanded to congratulate the people on their universal prosperity."
This, says the writer, is too insolent, openly to make a jest of the
miseries of the people. It is indeed a settled point, that truth is
never to be expected in a speech from the throne; and if ever a king
were mad enough to speak the real truth on such an occasion, he must
begin his speech, "My knaves and dupes," instead of the wonted exordium
"My Lords and Gentlemen."
My host is a member of the yacht club, and a passionate lover of the
sea. Our dinner would have contented the most rigid Catholic in lent: it
consisted entirely of fish, admirably dressed in various ways. An oyster
bank under his windows contributed its inhabitants for our dessert; the
cows grazing before the house also afforded many delicacies; and the
hot-houses adjoining the dining-room, delicious fruits.
Does it not do one good to think that perhaps not less than a hundred
thousand persons in England are in the enjoyment of such an existence as
this; of such substantial and comfortable luxury in their peaceful
homes! free monarchs in the bosoms of their families, where they live in
the security of their inviolable rights of property! Happy men! they are
never annoyed with the oppressive missives of uncivil functionaries,
who want to rule everything even in their drawing-rooms and
bed-chambers, and think they have rendered the state an important
service when they have put the unhappy subject to an expense of many
thousand dollars in a year for unnecessary postage;--who are not
contented to be placed _above_ the governed, but must place themselves
_against_ them; thus uniting in their own persons party and judge. Happy
men! free from assaults on their purses,--from personal
indignities,--from the insolence of officials, eager to show their power
by useless and frivolous vexations,--from the avidity of insatiable
blood-suckers!--unrestrained masters of their own property, and only
subject to those laws which themselves have contributed to make! When we
reflect on this, we must confess that England, though not a perfect
country, is a most fortunate one. We ought not, therefore, to be much
offended at Englishmen if, feeling strongly the contrast between their
own country and most others, they can never, whatever be their courtesy
and kindness, get over the distance which separates them from
foreigners. Their feeling of self-respect, which is perfectly just, is
so powerful, that they involuntarily look upon us as an inferior race.
Just as we, for example, in spite of all our German heartiness, should
find it difficult to fraternize with a Sandwich Islander. In some
centuries we shall perhaps change places; but at present, unhappily, we
are a long way from that.[121]
_Holyhead, August 9th,--Evening._
I have had a bad night, a high fever, bad weather, and rough roads. The
latter misery I incurred by choosing to visit the celebrated 'Paris
mines' in the Isle of Anglesea. This island is the complete reverse of
Wales; almost entirely flat--no trees, not even a thicket or hedge--only
field after field. The copper-mines on the coast are, however,
interesting. My arrival having been announced by Colonel H----, I was
received with firing of cannon, which resounded wildly from the caves
beneath. I collected several beautiful specimens of the splendid and
many-coloured ore: the lumps are broken small, thrown into heaps, and
set on fire like alum ore, and these heaps left to burn for nine months:
the smoke is in part caught, and forms sulphur. It is curious to the
uninitiated, that during this nine months' burning, which expels all the
sulphur by the force of the chemical affinity created by the fire, the
pure copper, which had before been distributed over the whole mass, is
concentrated, and forms a little compact lump in the middle, like a
kernel in a nut-shell. After the burning, the copper, like alum again,
is washed; and the water used for the purpose is caught in little pools:
the deposit in these, contains from twenty-five to forty per cent of
copper; and the remaining water is still so strongly impregnated, that
an iron key held in it, in a few seconds assumes a brilliant copper
colour.
The ore is then repeatedly smelted, and at last refined; after which it
is formed into square blocks, of a hundred pounds weight, for sale; or
pressed by mills into sheets for sheathing vessels. A singular
circumstance is observable at the founding, which is a pretty sight. The
whole mass flows into a sand-bed or matrix, divided into eight or ten
compartments, like an eating-trough for several animals: the divisions
do not quite reach the height of the exterior edge; so that the liquid
copper, which flows in at one end, as soon as the plug is drawn out must
fill the first compartment before it reaches the second, and so on. Now
the strange thing is, that all the pure copper which was contained in
the furnace remains in this first compartment,--the others are filled
with slag, which is only used for making roads. The reason is this;--the
copper ore contains a portion of iron, which is magnetically affected:
this holds the copper together, and forces it to flow out first. Now as
they know pretty accurately, by experience, what proportion of pure
copper any given mass of ore will contain, the size of these
compartments is regulated so as exactly to contain it. The manager, a
clever man, who spoke half Welsh half English, told me that he had first
invented this manner of founding, which spared much trouble, and that he
had taken out a patent for it. The advantages which arise from it are
obvious; since without these divisions or compartments, the copper, even
if it flowed out first, must afterwards have spread itself over the
whole mass. The Russians, who in matters of trade and manufacture suffer
nothing to pass neglected, soon sent a traveller hither to make himself
master of the process. It was not in the slighest degree concealed from
him;--indeed it is but justice to say that the masters of all commercial
and manufacturing establishments in England are generally very liberal.
While I was yet standing by the furnace, an officer made his appearance,
and in the name of the brother of Colonel H----, who is likewise a
colonel, and commands a Hussar regiment in this neighbourhood, invited
me to dine and spend the night. I was, however, too tired and unwell to
venture on the exploit of a mess-dinner in England; where, in the
provinces at least, the wine is dealt out in right old English measure.
I wished too to sail by the packet of to-night; and therefore gratefully
declined the invitation, and took the road to Holyhead, where I arrived
at ten o'clock.
My usual ill luck at sea did not permit me to sail,--the night was so
rough that the packet went off without passengers. I staid behind, not
very unwillingly, to take another day's rest in a comfortable inn.
_August 10th._
Ill and languid as I am, an excursion to the newly built light-house,
four miles from hence, has given me extraordinary pleasure. Although the
Island of Anglesea appears very flat, its picturesque craggy rocks rise
on the western shore to a very considerable height above the sea. On one
of these rocks, which stands out to sea, abrupt and isolated, is placed
the light-house. This indescribably wild cliff is not only
perpendicular--the summit actually projects several hundred feet beyond
the line of the base; so that it appears rather as if blasted by powder,
than the work of nature. Treading on a thick carpet of yellow dwarf
broom and crimson heath, you reach the edge of the precipice: you then
descend four or five hundred steps, roughly hewn in the rock, till you
come to a little bridge suspended on ropes; across this, holding by its
net-work sides, you swing, as it were, over the chasm which separates
this rock from the main land. Thousands of sea-mews wheeled around us,
uttering their ceaseless melancholy wail to the storm. The young ones
were just fledged, and the parent birds took advantage of the rough
weather to exercise them. Nothing could be more graceful and interesting
than these flying lessons. The young were easily distinguished by their
gray colour and their yet unsteady flight; while the old ones hung
poised sometimes for the space of a minute without moving a wing, as if
upborne motionless by the storm. The young ones often rested in the
crevices of the rocks, but were soon driven out to fresh exertions by
their inexorable parents.
The light-house is exactly like that which I have described to you at
Flamborough Head, on the eastern coast of England, only without the
revolving lights. The neatness of the oil-vessels, and the wonderful
brightness of the mirror-like reflectors were here, as there, most
admirable. I remarked an ingenious sort of rough-weather window, which
may be opened in the hardest gale, without trouble or danger of
breaking; and a vertical stone staircase, like a saw, which saves much
room. But I cannot make you understand either without a drawing.
_Dublin, Aug. 11th._
A more unprosperous voyage it is hardly possible to have. I was ten
hours tossed about, sick to death. The heat, the disgusting smell of the
steam-boiler, the universal sickness,--it was a frightful night--a
picture of human misery, worthy of Carl of Carlsberg. In a longer voyage
one gets hardened, and many new sources of pleasure compensate for
privations; but short voyages, which show only the dark side of the
picture, are my greatest aversion. Thank God it's over, and I once more
feel firm ground under me; though I sometimes think Ireland rocks a
little.
_Evening._
This country has more resemblance to Germany than to England. That
universal and almost over-refined industry and culture disappears here,
and with it, alas! English neatness. The houses and streets have a dirty
air, although Dublin is adorned with many magnificent palaces and broad
straight streets. The lower classes are in rags; those somewhat higher
want the English elegance; while the variety of brilliant uniforms,
which are never seen in the streets of London, still more strongly
remind one of the continent. The environs of the city have no longer the
accustomed freshness; the soil is more neglected, the grass and trees
scantier. The grand features of the landscape, however, the bay, the
distant mountains of Wicklow, the Hill of Howth, the amphitheatrical
mass of houses, the quays, the harbour, are beautiful. Such, at least,
is the first impression.
I find myself, in the best inn in the city, less comfortable than in the
little town of Bangor. The house is large, but seems silent and
deserted; while I remember that there, only during my dinner, I saw
fifteen carriages arrive, all of which were necessarily sent away from
the door. The influx of strangers is so great along the high-roads of
England, that waiters in the inns are not hired, but on the contrary,
sometimes pay as much as 300_l._ a year for their places. They make a
handsome profit, nevertheless, from the fees they receive. In Ireland,
we return to the continental custom.
As soon as I had a little refreshed myself I took a walk through the
city; in the course of which I passed two rather tasteless monuments.
The one represents William of Orange on horseback, in Roman costume.
Both man and horse are deformed: the horse has a bit in his mouth, and
head-gear on, but no appearance of reins, though the king's hand is
stretched out exactly as if he were holding them. Does this mean that
William wanted no rein to ride John Bull?
The other monument is a colossal statue of Nelson, standing on a high
pillar, and dressed in a modern uniform. Behind him hangs a cable, which
looks more like a pack-thread. The attitude is devoid of dignity, and
the figure is too high to be distinctly seen.
I afterwards came to a large round building, towards which the people
crowded, keeping watch on the outside. On inquiry, I learned that the
yearly exhibition of fruits and flowers was held here. They were just
taking away the former as I entered; notwithstanding which, I saw many
fine specimens. In the midst of the flowers, which formed a sort of
temple, there was an enclosed space railed round for the fruits, which
twelve judges ate with great gravity and apparent satisfaction. They
must have been a long time in coming to a decision; for rinds of melons,
pears and apples, fragments of pines, stones of plums, apricots and
peaches, lay in mountains on the table beneath; and although the flowers
were all gradually removed by the proprietors, I did not see that any of
the fruits found their way out of this temple of Pomona.
_August 12th._
As I knew not what else to do (for all the 'notables' who inhabit the
town were in the country,) I visited a number of 'show places.' First
the Castle, where the vice-King resides, and whose miserable
state-apartments with coarsely boarded floors do not offer anything very
attractive.--A modern Gothic chapel, the exterior of which is a
deceptive imitation of antiquity, is more worth seeing: the interior is
decorated with splendid painted glass from Italy, of the fifteenth
century, and richly ornamented with modern carvings in wood, of truly
antique beauty. The whole chapel is heated by pipes of hot air; and a
passage, warmed in the same manner and carpeted, connects it with the
Lord Lieutenant's apartments.
In the extensive and beautiful buildings belonging to the University a
student acted as my cicerone. These young men, when within the precincts
of the college, are obliged to wear, over their usual clothes, a black
mantle, and a strange high cap with tassels three-quarters of an ell
long, which gives them a rather grotesque appearance. This dress is as
rigorously adhered to, as at one time a pig-tail and powder were by
Saxon staff-officers.
The young man took me into the Museum; showed me the burning-glass with
which Archimedes set fire to the Roman fleet! Ossian's harp;[122] a
stuffed Indian chieftain with tomahawk and spear; and some fragments of
pillars from the Giant's Causeway, which could not be more accurately
formed by the hand of man, and which ring like English glass. 'Je vous
fais grace du reste.'
In the great hall in which the examinations are held, (the student told
me this with a slight shudder,) stands a Spanish organ, built for the
grand Armada.--Much more interesting are the portraits of Swift and
Burke: both physiognomies express the known qualities of the men. The
one has an expression as acute and sarcastic as it is native and
original: the other, full of intellect and power, somewhat blunt, but
yet benevolent and honest, announces the thundering orator who contended
sincerely and without reserve for his opinion, but never glossed over
his own interest with affected enthusiasm for others.
After visiting the Courts of Justice, the Custom-house, and other
magnificent buildings, I was going home, when I was tempted by the
advertisement of a 'Peristrephic Panorama' of the battle of Navarino.
This is a very amusing sight; and gives so clear an idea of that
'untoward event,' that one may console one's self for not having been
there. You enter a small theatre,--the curtain draws up, and behind it
is discovered the pictures which represent, in a grand whole, the series
of the several incidents of the fight. The canvas does not hang straight
down, but is stretched in a convex semicircle, and moved off slowly upon
rollers, so that the pictures are changed almost imperceptibly, and
without any break between scene and scene. A man describes aloud the
objects represented; and the distant thunder of cannon, military music,
and the noise of the battle, increase the illusion. By means of
panoramic painting, and a slight undulation of that part which
represents the waves and the ships, the imitation almost reaches
reality.
The first scene represents the bay of Navarino with the whole Turkish
fleet in order of battle. At the opposite extremity of the bay is seen
Old Navarino and its fortress perched on a high rock; on the side of it
the village of Pylos, and in the foreground the city of Navarino with
Ibrahim's camp, where groups of fine horses, and beautiful Greek
prisoners surrounded by their captors, attract the eye. In the distance,
just at the extremity of the horizon, the allied fleets are faintly
descried. This picture slowly disappears, and is succeeded by the open
sea,--the entrance to the bay of Navarino then gradually succeeds. You
distinguish the armed men on the rocks, and at length see the allied
fleet forcing the passage. By some optical deception everything appears
of its natural size; and the spectator seems to be placed in the Turkish
position in the bay, and to see the admiral's ship, the Asia, bearing
down upon him with all sails set. You see Admiral Codrington on the deck
in conversation with the captain. The other vessels follow in extending
lines, and with swelling sails, as if ready for the attack;--a glorious
sight! Next follow the separate engagements of the several ships, the
explosion of a fireship, and the sinking of some Turkish frigates.
Lastly, the engagement between the Asia and the Egyptian admiral's ship
on the one side, and the Turkish on the other, both of which, as you
know, sank after an obstinate defence of many hours.
The battle is succeeded by some views of Constantinople, which give a
very lively idea of Asiatic scenes and habits.
In the evening I visited the theatre; a very pretty house, with a
somewhat less rough and obstreporous audience than those of London. The
actors were not bad, though none of them rose above mediocrity. Numerous
uniforms were intermingled among the ladies in the lower tier of boxes,
which seemed to be elegantly filled. The higher classes, however, as I
am told, seldom visit the theatre here, any more than in London.
_August 13th._
Having seen enough of the city, I have begun my rides in the
neighbourhood, which is much more beautiful than its appearance at my
first approach, on the least favourable side, led me to expect. A road
commanding charming views,--first of the bay, which is intersected by a
mole five miles in length, and bounded at either extremity by the two
light-houses of Dublin and Howth, rising like columns in the distance;
then of the mountains of Wicklow, some clothed with wood, some rising
like sugar-loaves high above the others; and lastly, along an avenue of
noble elms by the side of a canal,--brought me to the Phoenix Park,
the Prater of Dublin, which in no respect yields to that of Vienna,
whether we regard its expanse of beautiful turf for riding, long avenues
for driving, or shady walks. A large but ill-proportioned obelisk is
erected here to the Duke of Wellington. I found the park rather empty,
but the streets through which I returned full of movement and bustle.
The dirt, the poverty, and the ragged clothing of the common people
often exceed all belief. Nevertheless they seem always good-natured, and
sometimes have fits of merriment in the open streets which border on
madness;--whiskey is generally at the bottom of this. I saw a half-naked
lad dance the national dance in the market-place so long, and with such
violent exertion, that at last he fell down senseless amid the cheers of
the spectators, totally exhausted, like a Mohammedan dervise.
The streets are crowded with beggar-boys, who buzz around one like
flies, incessantly offering their services. Notwithstanding their
extreme poverty, you may trust implicitly to their honesty; and
wretched, lean, and famished as they appear, you see no traces of
melancholy on their open, good-natured countenances. They are the
best-bred and most contented beggar-boys in the world. Such a little
fellow will run by your horse's side for hours, hold it when you alight,
go on any errand you like; and is not only contented with the few pence
you give him, but full of gratitude, which he expresses with Irish
hyperbole. The Irishman appears generally more patient than his
neighbours, but somewhat degraded by long slavery.
I was witness among other things to this:--A young man had pasted up a
wrong play-bill: the manager of the theatre came up and hit him a slap
on the face, and otherwise ill-treated him, without his making any
resistance; an Englishman would have made instant reprisals.
I passed the evening in the family circle of an old acquaintance, a
brother of the Lord-lieutenant, who was just come to town for a few
days. We talked over old times, as we had been much together in London.
He has a remarkable talent for imitating the late Kemble, whom he
resembles in person. I thought I saw Coriolanus and Zanga again.
_August 14th._
Another friend, of yet older date, Mr. W----ts, to whom I had once an
opportunity of rendering some service in Vienna, paid me a visit this
morning, and offered me his country-house as a residence.--He had
scarcely quitted me, when I was told that Lady B----, an Irish
'peeress,' and one of the most beautiful women in the country, whose
acquaintance I had cultivated during the last season in the metropolis,
was in her carriage below, and wished to speak to me. As I was still in
the most absolute 'negligée,' I told the waiter, (a perfect 'Jocrisse,'
whose 'Irish blunders' daily amuse me,) that I was not dressed, as he
saw, but that I would be ready immediately. He announced the state of my
toilet; but added, 'de son chef,' that "my Lady had better come up."
Imagine my astonishment when he came back and told me that Lady B----
had laughed very much, and had bid him say that she would willingly
wait, but that to pay gentlemen morning visits in their chambers was not
the custom in Ireland.
In this answer appeared the cordial, frank, and good-natured character
of the true Irish woman, which I had already learned to love and admire.
A prudish Englishwoman would have driven away in high displeasure, and
perhaps have ruined the reputation of a young man for such a 'qui pro
quo' as this: for in English society people do not only stumble at
things which in other countries produce quite a contrary effect; but the
'it is said' in the mouth of an influential person is a two-edged sword.
'He has a bad character'{*} is sufficient to shut a hundred doors
against a stranger. An Englishman is much less guided by his own
observation than is generally imagined: he always attaches himself to
some party, with whose eyes he sees.
{*} _Character_, in England, means (most _characteristically_, in a
country where _appearance_ has more weight than in any other,) not
the result or sum of a man's moral and intellectual qualities, but
his _reputation_, what is said of him.--EDITOR.]
In the afternoon I went to dine at my friend's villa. The road was very
agreeable. It began with the Phoenix Park, and followed the course of
the Liffey, the river which flows through Dublin, where its beautiful
quays, stone and iron bridges, add so much to the embellishment of the
town. Here it has a rural and romantic character, bordered with the
broad leaves of the tussilago, and enclosed by soft hills and verdant
thickets. I asked a beggar whom I met, how far it was to W---- park, and
whether the road continued equally beautiful all the way. 'Long life to
your honour!' exclaimed he, with Irish patriotism, 'only keep right on,
and you never saw anything more beautiful in this world!'
The entrance to W---- park is indeed the most delightful in its kind
that can be imagined. Scenery, by nature most beautiful, is improved by
art to the highest degree of its capability; and without destroying its
free and wild character, a variety and richness of vegetation is
produced which enchant the eye. Gay shrubs and wild flowers, the softest
turf, and giant trees festooned with creeping plants, fill the narrow
glen through which the path winds by the side of the clear dancing
brook; falling in little cataracts, it flows on, sometimes hidden in the
thicket, sometimes resting like liquid silver in an emerald cup, or
rushing under overhanging arches of rock, which nature seems to have
hung there as triumphal arches for the beneficent naïad of the valley to
pass through. As soon as you leave the glen, the enchantment suddenly
ceases: the rest in no respect answers your high-raised expectations.
Scanty grass, stunted trees, and thick stagnant water, surround a small
Gothic castle, which looks like a poor scene in a play. In it, however,
you find some interesting objects:--among others, some good pictures;
and the best and most cordial host that one can desire. I must also
mention a curious 'pavillon rustique' which is built in a suitable spot
in the 'pleasure ground.' It is hexagonal, three sides solid, and
fashioned of pieces of rough branches of trees very prettily arranged in
various patterns; the other three consist of two windows and a door. The
floor is covered with a mosaic of little pebbles from the brook, the
ceiling with shells, and the roof is thatched with wheat straw on which
the full ears are left.
_August 15th._
Although my chest continues to give me pain, and my doctor sometimes
makes solemn faces, I go on with my expeditions, which afford me great
pleasure.
I had already fixed a longing eye on one of three hills, four or five
miles from the city, on the summit of which stand three distinct upright
masses of rock, from which it takes its name, 'The Three Rocks.' The
view from it must needs be beautiful. I got up, therefore, earlier than
usual, that I might reach the top in good time. I asked repeatedly in
the villages through which I passed, which was the best way, but could
never get a distinct answer. At length I was assured by the inhabitants
of a house at the foot of the hill, that I could not ride up, and must
dismount. This in the present state of my chest was not practicable; but
as I have long learned what people's impossibilities are, I took the
path they showed me, on horseback, without hesitation. I could safely
trust my little compact mare, for the Irish horses climb over rocks or
walls like cats. For sometime I followed a tolerably beaten foot-path,
and when this ceased, the dry bed of a mountain stream, along which I
rode without much difficulty for about two miles. I now found myself on
a large and naked 'plateau,' and saw the three rocks, like witches'
stones, rearing their heads before me. The intervening space, however,
seemed an impassable bog. I tried it very cautiously, and found a
shingly bottom at about eight or ten inches under the boggy soil. This
continued all the way; till after some time I reached firm ground, and
stood upon the highest point. The wished-for prospect lay before me:
Ireland, like a map; Dublin, like a smoking lime-kiln in the green
plain, (for the coal-smoke did not allow me to distinguish one single
building;) the bay with its light-houses; the boldly marked headland of
Howth; and on the other side, the mountains of Wicklow, stretching away
to the horizon, lay beneath me bathed in sunlight, and rewarded me for
all my fatigue.
But the scene was yet further animated by a sweet-looking young woman,
whom I discovered in this wild solitude, busied in the humble employment
of straw-platting. The natural grace of the Irish peasant-women, who are
often truly beautiful, is as surprising as their dress, or rather their
want of dress; for though it was very cold on these hills, the whole
clothing of the young woman before me consisted of a large very coarse
straw hat, and _literally_ two or three rags of the coarsest sackcloth
suspended under the breast by a piece of cord, and more than half
disclosing her handsome person. Her conversation was cheerful, sportive
and witty; perfectly unembarrassed, and in a certain sense free; but you
would fall into a great error if you inferred from that, any levity or
looseness of conduct.
The women of this class in Ireland are, almost universally, extremely
chaste, and still more disinterested. If one of them ever strays from
the path of virtue, she is very rarely seduced by those considerations
of gain, which are so degrading, and, in such matters, so unnatural.
After I had descended the mountain on the other side, leading my horse,
who scrambled after me as well as he could, I reached the high-road, and
came upon an open park gate, (for in this also Ireland resembles the
continent, where every proprietor, from the king to the humble
country-gentleman, enhances his own enjoyment by sharing it with the
public,) and rode in. I soon gave up the enterprise, however, on seeing
two gigantic capuchins with gown and cross cut out of painted boards,
standing in a cross-way, and each of them holding a book on which was
written--"To the Pheasantry," "To the Abbey." Such bad taste is rare
here.
In the street I met a London 'dandy,' who called out to me, (for I did
not recognize him,) laughed heartily at our meeting 'in such a horrid
place,' ran on for some time in a satirical vein on Dublin society, and
at last concluded by informing me, that through the influence of his
family, he had just obtained a place here, which, indeed, brought him in
2000_l._ a year, and gave him nothing to do, but which compelled him
'pro forma' to pass a part of every year in this 'shocking' abode. With
such, and even much richer sinecures, are the younger sons of the
English aristocracy provided in countless numbers, and in all parts of
the empire. I think, however, that even here, the pitcher will not
always go to the well without breaking; though I must confess that these
defects in the English government, compared with the arbitrary power
exercised in other states, are but spots on the sun.
I of course entirely except Ireland, which appears to experience, in
almost every instance, a step-mother's care; which contributes largely
to the power and splendour of the English nobility, without receiving
back the smallest portion of those advantages of which England receives
so much.
_August 18th._