Limerick is the third city in Ireland, and of the kind of cities I like,
old and venerable, adorned with Gothic churches and moss-covered ruins;
with dark narrow streets, and curious houses of various dates; a broad
river flowing through its whole length, and crossed by several antique
bridges; lastly, a busy market-place, and cheerful environs. Such a city
has for me a charm like that of a wood, whose dark branches, now low,
now high, afford sylvan streets of various forms, and frequently
over-arch the way like a Gothic roof. Modern regular cities are like a
trimly cut French garden: they do not suit my romantic taste.
I was not quite well, and returned after a little walk in the town to my
inn. I found a sexton of one of the Catholic churches waiting for me; he
told me that they had rung the bells as soon as they knew of my arrival,
and hoped I would give them ten shillings as a gratuity. 'Je l'envoyai
promener.' In a few minutes a Protestant functionary of the same sort
was announced. I asked him what he wanted. "Only to warn your royal
highness against the impositions of the Catholics, who annoy strangers
in the most shameless manner, and to beg that your royal highness will
not give them anything:--at the same time I take the liberty to ask a
small contribution to the Protestant poor-house." (You must observe that
the people of this country are extremely lavish of titles to anybody who
travels with four horses.) "Go to the d----l, Protestants and
Catholics," said I in a rage, and flung the door in his face.
But this was not all; I was soon waited upon by a deputation of the
catholics, consisting of the French Consul (an Irishman,) a relation and
namesake of O'Connell, and some others, who harangued me, and begged to
present me with the Order of the Liberator. I had the greatest possible
difficulty in excusing myself from this honour, and in declining an
invitation to dine with their club. We compromised the matter by my
accepting the offer of two of them to accompany me all over the town as
ciceroni.
I resigned myself very patiently, and was first conducted to the
cathedral, a building of great antiquity, more in the style of a
fortress than of a church; the architecture solid and rude, but imposing
by its massiveness. In the interior I admired a carved chair of the most
exquisite workmanship; it is five hundred years old, and made of
bog-oak, which time has rendered black as ebony. Its rich ornaments
consisted of beautiful arabesques and most curious masks, which were
different on every side. The grave of Thomond, King of Ulster and
Limerick, though mutilated and defaced by modern additions, is a very
interesting monument. Descendants of this royal line are still in
existence. The head of the family bears the title of Marquis of Thomond,
a name which you will remember to have seen in my letters from London,
where its possessor was distinguished for the excellence of his dinners.
Ireland has many families of great antiquity, who pique themselves on
never having contracted a 'mésalliance,' a practice so common among the
English and French nobility, that pure unmixed blood (_stiftsfähiges
Blut_,[131] as we call it in Germany) is no longer to be found in either
of those kingdoms. The French nobles called these marriages for money
'mettre du fumier sur ses terres,' a joke not very flattering to the
bride.--And many an English lord owes all the present splendour of his
family to such 'fumier.'
We quitted the church, and were proceeding to visit the rock near the
Shannon, upon which the English signed the treaty after the battle of
the Boyne; a treaty which they have not been remarkably scrupulous in
observing. I remarked that we were followed by an immense crowd of
people, which increased like an avalanche, and testified equal respect
and enthusiasm. All on a sudden they shouted "Long life to Napoleon and
Marshal ----." "Good God," said I, "for whom do the people take me? As a
perfectly unpretending stranger I cannot in the least degree understand
why they seem disposed to do me so much honour." "Was not your father
the Prince of ----?" said O'Connell. "Oh no," replied I; "my father was
indeed a nobleman of rather an older date, but very far from being so
celebrated." "You must forgive us then," said O'Connell incredulously;
"for to tell you the truth, you are believed to be a natural son of
Napoleon, whose partiality to your supposed mother was well known." "You
joke," said I laughing: "I am at least ten years too old to be the son
of the great emperor and the beautiful princess." He shook his head,
however, and I reached my inn amid reiterated shouts. Here I shut myself
up, and shall not quit my retreat to-day. The people, however, patiently
posted themselves under my windows, and did not disperse till it was
nearly dark.
_Tralee, Sept. 23rd._
This morning I was again received with cries of "Long life to Napoleon
and your honour!" And while my servant, who was seated in my carriage,
and passed for Napoleon's son, drove off in the midst of cheers and
acclamations, I slipped out at a back-door, with a lad who carried my
travelling bag, and took my place in the stage, which was to convey me
to the lake of Killarney. My people had orders to wait for me in Cashel,
where I shall probably rejoin them in a fortnight.
With my present simple exterior no human being thought of assailing me
with homage; and I could not help philosophizing on this public farce,
and thinking how often the desire of glory and renown leads only to
disguise and false assumption. Certainly of all the dreams of life this
is the most shadowy! Love sometimes satisfies, knowledge tranquilizes,
art gladdens and amuses; but ambition, ambition gives only the
tormenting passion of a hunger which nothing can allay,--a chase after a
phantom which is ever unattainable.
In a quarter of an hour I was comfortably established in the
stage-coach. The passengers inside consisted of three women; one fat and
jovial, another extremely lean, and a third pretty and well
proportioned. There was also a man who had the air of a pedagogue, with
a long face, and still longer nose. I sat entrenched between the two
slender ladies, and conversed with the corpulent one, who was very
talkative. On my letting down a window she told us that she had lately
been nearly _sea-sick_ in this very coach, because an ailing lady who
sat opposite to her would not allow a window to be opened on any
account. That _she_, however, did not give it up; and after a quarter of
an hour's persuasion had succeeded in prevailing on the lady to admit of
one inch of air; a quarter of an hour after another inch, and so on,
till she manoeuvered the whole window open. "Excellent," said I; "that
is exactly the way in which women manage to get all they wish; first
_one_ inch, and then--as much as they want. How differently do men act
under similar circumstances," continued I. "An English writer, in his
directions to travellers, says, that if anybody in the mail should
insist on keeping all the windows closed, you should not enter into any
'pour parler' with him, but immediately thrust your elbow through the
window as if by accident, beg his pardon, and quietly enjoy the cool
air." The ruins of Adair now attracted our attention, and interrupted
the conversation. Further on the Shannon appeared in all its grandeur.
In some parts it is like an American river, nine miles broad, and its
shores finely wooded. At Lisdowel, a little place where we dined,
hundreds of beggars assembled as usual about the coach. One novelty
struck me; they had little wooden cups fixed at the end of long sticks,
which they reached in at the window, and thus more conveniently secured
the desired 'pence.' One beggar had built himself a sort of sentry-box
of loose stones in the road, in which he seemed to remain in a state of
perpetual bivouac. I must conclude; for the mail drives off again in a
few hours, and I want rest. More to-morrow.
_Killarney, Sept. 24th._
In the course of to-day I saw twelve rainbows, a bad omen for the
steadiness of the weather; but I receive it as a good one for me. It
promises me a many-coloured journey. The company had dropped off, one by
one, like ripe fruit, and I found myself alone with an Irish gentleman,
a manafacturer from the north, when I entered the pretty cheerful town
of Killarney, where the incessant resort of English tourists has almost
introduced into the inns English elegance and English prices. We
immediately inquired for boats, and for the best way of seeing the lake,
but were told that it was imposible to go on in such a storm: no boat
could 'live on the lake,' as the fisherman expressed it. An English
dandy, who had joined us during breakfast, ridiculed these assurances;
and as I, you know, am also rather incredulous about _impossibilities_,
we outvoted the manufacturer, who showed very little ardour for the
undertaking, and embarked, 'malgré vent et marée,' near Ross Castle, an
old ruin not far from Killarney.
We had a capital boat, an old characteristic-looking grey-headed
steersman, and four sturdy rowers. The heaven was as if torn open; in
some places blue, in others various shades of gray; but for the most
part raven-black. Clouds of all forms rolled in wild disorder, now and
then tinged by a rainbow, or lighted by a pale sunbeam. The high
mountains scarcely appeared through their gloomy veil, and on the lake
all was like night. The Black waves heaved in busy and ceaseless tumult;
here and there one bore a crest of snow-white foam. As the motion was
nearly as great as at sea, I was slightly sea-sick. The manufacturer was
pale from fear; the young Englishman, proud of his amphibious nature,
laughed at us both. Meanwhile the storm piped so loud that we could
hardly hear each other speak; and when I asked the old steersman where
we should land first, he said, "At the Abbey, if we can land anywhere."
This did not sound encouraging. Our boat, which was the only one on the
lake, for even the fishermen would not venture out, danced so fearfully
up and down without making the smallest way, in spite of all the efforts
of the rowers, that the manufacturer began to think of wife, children
and manufactory, and peremptorily insisted on returning, as he had no
intention of sacrificing his life to a party of pleasure. The dandy on
the other hand was ready to burst with laughter: he protested that he
was a member of the Yacht Club, and had seen very different sort of
danger from this; and promised the rowers, who would rather have been at
home, money without end if they would but hold out. For my own part, I
followed General Yermoloff's maxim, "neither too rash nor too timid,"
took no part in the contest, wrapped myself in my cloak, and awaited the
issue in peace. It seems I had all the beauty of the scene to myself;
one of my companions being prevented from seeing it by fear, the other
by self-complacency. For some time we struggled with the waves, on which
we floated like sea-birds in storm and darkness; till at last such a
violent wind came upon us from a gorge in the mountains opposite to
which we lay, that it grew rather too serious even for the 'member of
the Yacht Club,' and he acceded to the request of the steersman, to row
back with the wind, and land on an island till the storm abated a
little, which was generally the case about noon.
This happened as he predicted: and after encamping for some hours in
Innisfallen, a lovely little islet with beautiful groups of trees and
ruins, we were able to continue our voyage. All the islands of this
little lake, even to the smallest, called the Mouse, which is only a few
yards long, are thickly clothed with arbutus, and other evergreens. They
grow wild; and both in summer and in winter enliven the scene with the
bright colours of their flowers and fruit. The forms of many of these
islets are as curious as their names. They are generally called after
O'Donaghue. Here is O'Donaghue's 'White Horse,' on whose rocky hoofs the
surf breaks; there, his 'Library;' further on, his 'Pigeon-house,' or
his 'Flower-garden;' and so on. But you do not know how the lake of
Killarney arose. Listen then.
O'Donaghue was the powerful chieftain of a clan inhabiting a great and
opulent city, which stood where the lake now rolls its waters. It had
everything in abundance except water; and the legend says, that the only
little spring which it possessed was the gift of a mighty sorcerer, who
called it up at the prayer of a beautiful virgin; adding a solemn
warning, that they should never forget to close it every evening with a
large silver cover which he left for that purpose. The strange forms and
ornaments seemed to confirm this wonderful command; and never was the
old custom neglected.
But O'Donaghue, a mighty and dauntless warrior (perhaps too, like
Talbot, an incredulous one,) only made merry at this story, as he called
it; and one day, being heated with more wine than usual, he commanded,
to the terror of all present, the silver cover to be carried into his
house, where, as he jestingly said, it would make him an excellent bath.
All remonstrances were vain: O'Donaghue was accustomed to make himself
obeyed: and as his terrified vassals at length dragged in their
ponderous burthen, amid groans and lamentations, he exclaimed laughing
"Never fear, the cool night air will do the water good, and in the
morning you will all find it fresher than ever." But those who stood
nearest to the silver cover turned away shuddering, for it seemed to
them as if the strange intricate characters upon it moved, and wreathed
like a knot of twisted snakes, and an awful sound appeared to come forth
mournfully from it. Fearful and anxious, they retired to rest: one alone
fled to the adjoining mountains. And now when morning broke, and this
man looked down into the valley, he thought he was in a dream;--city and
land had disappeared; the rich meadows were no more to be seen, and the
little spring bursting forth from the clefts of the earth has swelled
into a measureless lake. What O'Donaghue prophesied was true; the water
had become cooler for them all, and the new vessel had prepared for him
his last bath.
In very clear bright weather, as the fishermen assured us, some have
seen at the lowest bottom of the lake, palaces and towers glimmering as
through glass: but many have beheld, at the approach of a storm,
O'Donaghue's giant figure riding over the waves on a snorting white
horse, or gliding along the waters with the quickness of lightning in
his unearthly bark.
One of our boat's crew,--a man of about fifty, with long black hair,
which the wind blew wildly about his temples, of an earnest and quiet
but imaginative look,--was stealthily pointed out to me by one of his
companions, while they whispered in my ear that "he had met him."
You will believe that I quickly entered into conversation with this
boatman, and sought to gain his confidence, knowing that these people,
whenever they anticipate unbelief and jesting, observe an obstinate
silence. At first he was reserved; but at length he became warmed, and
swore by St. Patrick and the Virgin that what he was going to tell me
was the naked truth. He said he had met O'Donaghue at twilight, just
before the raging of one of the most terrific storms he had ever
witnessed. He had staid out late fishing; it had rained torrents the
whole day; it was piercingly cold, and without his whiskey-bottle he
could not have held out any longer. Not a living soul had been visible
on the lake for a long time,--when all at once a boat, as if fallen from
the clouds, sailed towards him; the oars plied like lightning, and yet
no rowers were visible: but at the stern sat a man of gigantic stature:
his dress was scarlet and gold, and on his head he wore a three-cocked
hat with broad gold lace. The spirit-boat passed him: Paddy fixed his
eyes intently upon it: but when the tall figure was over against him,
and two large black eyes glared forth out of the mantle, and scorched
him like living coals, the whiskey fell out of his hand, and he did not
come to himself till the rough caresses of his other half waked him.
She was in a great rage, and called him a drunken fellow:--She might
think the whiskey had brought him to that, but he knew better.
Is it not curious that the costume here described exactly corresponds
with that of our German Devil of the last century, who is now come into
such great favour again? And yet Paddy had most certainly never heard of
the Freischütz. It seems almost as if Hell had its 'Journal des Modes.'
I was extremely amused at the old man's penitence and distress after he
had finished his story. He loudly reproached himself for it, crossed
himself, and incessantly repeated, "O'Donaghue, though terrible, looked
like a 'real gentleman; 'for," said he, looking round fearfully, "'a
perfect gentleman' he was, is now, and always will remain." The younger
boatmen were not such firm believers, and seemed to have a good mind to
joke the ghost-seer a little, but his seriousness and indignation soon
overawed them all. One of these young men was a perfect model of a
youthful Hercules. With all the overflowing spirits of a body sound to
the core, he played incessant tricks, and did the work of three at the
same time.
We landed at Mucruss Abbey, which stands in Mr. Herbert's park,
notwithstanding which it is plentifully furnished with skulls and bones.
The ruins are of considerable extent, and full of interesting
peculiarities. In the court yard is a yew-tree, perhaps the largest in
the world; it not only overtops all the building, but its branches
darken the whole court, like a tent. In the first story I observed a
fire-place, on which two ivy branches, one on each side, formed a most
beautiful and regular decoration, while their leaves covered the
mantel-piece with a mass of foliage.
Our guide here gave us a curious example of the unbounded power of the
Catholic priests over the common people. Two clans, the Moynihans and
the O'Donaghues had been in a state of perpetual feud for half a
century. Wherever they met in any considerable numbers, a shillelah
battle was sure to take place, and many lives were usually lost. Since
the formation of the Catholic Association, it has become the interest of
the priests to establish peace and concord in their flocks. Accordingly,
after the fight which took place last year, they enjoined as penance
that the Moynihans should march twelve miles to the north, and the
O'Donaghues an equal distance to the south, and both pronounce certain
prayers at their journey's end; that all the lookers on should make a
pilgrimage of six miles in some other direction; and in case of a
repetition of the offence, the penance to be doubled. All this was
executed with religious exactness; and ever since the war is at an end.
Continuing our progress for about three miles on this side the lake, we
landed on a thickly wooded shore, and visited O'Sullivan's waterfall,
which, swollen by the rain, was doubly magnificent. The luxuriance of
the trees and trailing of the plants which overhang it, and the cave
opposite, in which you stand protected from the wet to view this foaming
cataract, increase the picturesque and wild beauty of the scene. Here
are sweet lonely walks, which lead over the mountains to a village
imbedded in a wood, and cut off from all the world.
But as the sun was struggling with the clouds, and we were soaked
through and through (by the heavens and the lake whose waters had more
than once washed over us,) and very weary, we resolved to close our
labours for to-day, and to return by Lady Kenmare's pretty villa.
As we had still about four miles to go by water, the handsome young
fellow, who by-the-bye, in spite of his athletic frame, had a most
remarkable resemblance to Mademoiselle Sontag, offered to bet three
shillings that he would row us home in half an hour. The old ghost-seer
would not undertake such an exertion, but young Sontag declared he would
row for him. We accepted the wager, and now flew like an arrow across
the lake. Never did I see a finer exhibition of power and persistency,
amid constant singing, jokes, and sportive tricks. The rowers won their
wager only by half a minute, but received from us more than double their
bet, which all promised with great glee to drink in the course of the
night. To conclude the whole, they held a conversation, already got up
for the purpose, with the echo of the walls of Ross Castle. The answers
had always some double meaning; for instance, 'Shall we have a good
bed?'--answer, 'Bad,' and so on.
_Sept. 25th._
Unfortunately two Englishmen of my acquaintance arrived to-day, and
joined us, which destroyed my beloved incognito; for though I am no
'exalted personage,' I find as much pleasure in it as if I were. When
one is unknown, one always escapes some _gene_, and gains some freedom
the more, however inconsiderable one may be. As I could not help myself
in this case, I contrived at least to perform half this day's tour by
land with my worthy friend the manufacturer, and let the three
Englishmen go together by boat. It was the same which we had yesterday,
and had then engaged for to-day. My poney had the high sounding name of
'the Knight of the Gap.' He was but a recreant knight, however, and
would not move without whip and spur. Before we came to the great ravine
or gap, from which he takes his name, we had a very beautiful view of
the mountains from a hill which rises in the midst of the plain.
Mountain, water, and trees, were so happily distributed as to produce
the more refreshing harmony:--the long ravine appears all the wilder and
more, monotonous; in the style of Wales, but not so vast. In one part of
it a large mass of rock loosened itself some years ago, and lies, split
in two, across the road. A man had the project of excavating these
pieces of rock as a hermitage, but remained faithful to his strange
dwelling only three months. The people, with their usual energy of
expression, call it "the madman's rock." Some way further on we saw an
old woman cowering on the road, whose appearance exceeded all that has
ever been invented in fairy tales. Never did I see anything more
frightful and disgusting: I was told that she was a hundred-and-ten
years old; and had survived all her children and grandchildren. Although
in an intellectual point of view reduced to a mere animal, all her
senses were in tolerable preservation. Her form was neither human nor
even animal, but resembled rather an exhumed corpse reanimated. As we
rode by, she uttered a piteous whine, and seemed satisfied when we threw
her money. She did not reach however to pick it up, but sank back into
her former torpor and apathy. All the furrows of her livid face were
filled with black dirt, her eyes looked diseased, her lips were of a
leaden blue; in short, imagination could conceive nothing so shocking.
We met our boat at Brandon Castle, a ruin rendered habitable, with a
high tower and neglected pleasure-grounds. There are some pieces of
water through which our guides carried us on their backs. The boat
appeared 'à point nommé;' it sailed round a projecting point just as we
reached the shore, and had on board the best bugleman in Killarney. He
blew a sort of Alpine horn with great skill, and called forth many a
delightful echo. We passed the arch of a bridge, on which, when the
waters are swollen, boats are often wrecked. Our bugleman told us that
he had been twice upset here, and the last time nearly drowned. He
wished, therefore, to be put on shore, and climb along the rocks past
this formidable place; but the old steersman would not consent,
declaring that if the strange gentlemen remained in the boat it became
him to stay, and be drowned with them. We all passed quite safely
however.
The rock called "The Eagle's Nest," which is the almost constant abode
of those kingly birds, is of a fine and imposing form. Not far from it
is Coleman's Leap,--two rocks standing upright in the water at some
distance; on which are the marks of feet, three or four feet deep in the
rock. Such leaps and footmarks are to be found in almost all mountains.
Our boat was fully victualled for a brilliant dinner (a thing which
Englishmen seldom forget,) and as we espied a most romantic cottage
under high chesnut trees, we determined to land here, and eat our
repast. It would have been extremely agreeable, had not the dandy
spoiled it by his affectation, his want of all feeling for the
beautiful, and his ill-natured 'persiflage' of the less polished but far
more estimable Irishman. He gave him the nickname of Liston (a
celebrated actor, who is particularly distinguished in silly absurd
characters,) and made the poor devil unconsciously act so burlesque a
part, that I was reluctantly constrained to laugh, though the whole
thing was quite 'hors de saison,' and in the most execrable taste. It is
possible, too, that the Irishman only affected stupidity, and was, in
fact, the most cunning of the two,--at least he addressed himself to
eating and drinking with such unwearied perseverance while the others
were occupied with laughing, that very little remained for them. I
cannot deny that he received powerful support in this department from
me.--A fresh-caught salmon broiled on arbutus-sticks over the fire was
an admirable specimen of Irish fare.
We rowed slowly back by moonlight, while the bugleman's horn started
echo after echo from her repose. It was an enchanting night; and
wandering from thought to thought, I reached a state of mind in which I
too could have seen ghosts. The men near me seemed to me only like
puppets; Nature alone, and the sweetness and the majesty that surrounded
me, seemed real.
Whence comes it, thought I, that a heart so loving is not social? that
men are generally of so little worth to you?--Is your soul too small for
intercourse with the intellectual world, too nearly allied to plants and
animals?--or have you outgrown the forms of this state of existence in
some prior one, and feel pent up in your too narrow garments? And when
the melancholy tones of the bugle-horn again trembled in soft notes
across the waves, and gave to my fancies the sounds of a strange
language, like the voice of invisible spirits, I felt like Göthe's
fisherman,--as if some irresistible force dragged me softly down into
the calm element, to seek O'Donaghue in his coral rocks.
Before we landed, a curious ceremony took place. The boat's crew, with
young Sontag at their head,--who always called me 'his gentleman,' in
virtue of a somewhat larger fee he had received from me,--asked
permission to lie-to at a little island, and to christen this after me,
which could only be done by moonlight. I was therefore told to stand on
a projecting rock: the six boatmen leaning on their oars formed a circle
around me, while the old man solemnly pronounced a sort of incantation
in a wild measure, which sounded awfully in this romantic scenery and
the night. Young Sontag then broke off a large arbutus branch, and
giving a twig of it first to me, and then to the gentlemen in the boat,
we fixed them in our hats; the rest he divided among his comrades, and
then asked me--with respectful earnestness what name the island--with
O'Donaghue's permission--was in future to bear? "Julia!" said I with a
loud voice:--on which this name was repeated, not very accurately, three
times with thundering hurrahs. A third man now took a bottle filled with
water, delivered a long address in verse to O'Donaghue, and threw the
bottle with all his might against a piece of rock, so that it broke into
a thousand pieces. A second bottle filled with whiskey was then drunk to
my health, and a threefold cheer again given to Julia Island. The
boatmen, to whom the name was strange, took it for mine, and henceforth
called me nothing but Mr. Julia, which I heard with a melancholy
satisfaction.
Your domains are thus increased by an island on the romantic lake of
Killarney: it is only a pity that the next company that lands on the
same spot will probably rob you of it; for doubtless such christenings
take place as often as godfathers are to be found. The real child, the
whiskey-bottle, is always at hand. Nevertheless, I enclose an arbutus
leaf from the identical sprig which flourished on my hat, that you may
at least retain undisputed possession of something from your island.
_Glengariff, Sept. 26th._
To write to you to-day is really an effort which deserves reward; for I
am excessively tired, and have, like my father Napoleon, been obliged to
drink coffee incessantly to keep me awake.[132]
I left Killarney at nine o'clock in the morning in a car of the most
wretched construction, and followed the new road which leads along the
upper and lower lake to the Bay of Kenmare. This road discloses more
beauties than are seen from the lakes themselves, which have the great
disadvantage of affording a picturesque view on one side only,--the
other shore is quite flat. On the road which lies along the side of the
mountain and through a wood, every turn presents you with pictures,
which are the more beautiful from being framed. I remark, generally,
that views seen from the water lose: they want the principal thing--the
foreground.
Near a beautiful cascade, and in the most charming wilderness, though
not far from the road, a merchant has built himself a villa, and
surrounded it with a garden and park. He must have expended at least
five or six thousand pounds,--perhaps much more,--and yet the land is
the property of his family only for ninety-nine years; at the expiration
of that time it falls, together with all that is upon it, to the lord of
the soil, Lord Kenmare, and must be delivered up to him in perfect
repair. No German would feel disposed to spend his money in decorative
improvements on such terms: but in England,--where almost the whole soil
belongs either to the government, the church, or the powerful
aristocracy, and therefore can seldom be purchased in fee; where, on the
other hand, industry, fostered by a wise government, in alliance with
agriculture, has enriched the middling and trading classes,--such
contracts are extremely common, and obviate many of the inconveniences
of the distribution of landed property, without diminishing its great
utility to the state.
The ascent now became steeper and steeper, and we soon found ourselves
in the midst of bare heights; for vegetation here seldom extends above
midway up the mountains. It is not as in Switzerland, where luxuriant
verdure reaches almost to the snowy region. To take Switzerland as a
standard by which to try Ireland, would however be absurd. Both
countries afford romantic beauties of a totally different character;
both excite admiration and astonishment at the sublime works of Nature,
though in Switzerland they are on a more colossal scale. The road was so
winding, that after half an hour's climbing we found ourselves precisely
over the cottage I mentioned, which with its shining gray thatch looked,
at that depth, like a little mouse sunning itself in the green
grass;--for the sun, after a long struggle, had at length become
undisputed lord of the heavens.
Eight miles from Killarney we reached the highest point of the road,
where stands a solitary inn. You look down upon the broad valley, in
whose lap lies the greater part of the three lakes, so that you behold
them all with one glance.
From this point the road descends, leading between naked mountains of
bold forms to the sea. It was fair-time when I arrived in Kenmare, and I
could hardly penetrate through the bustling crowd with my one-horse
vehicle, especially from the number of drunken men who would
not--perhaps could not--get out of the way. One of them fell in
consequence of an attempt to do so, and knocked his head so violently on
the pavement that he was carried away senseless,--a thing of such common
occurrence that it attracted no attention. The skulls of Irishmen appear
to be universally of a more firm and massive construction than those of
other people, probably because they are trained to receive shillelah
blows. While I dined, I had another opportunity of observing several
affrays. First a knot of people collect, shouting and screaming; this
rapidly thickens; and all at once, in the twinkling of an eye, a hundred
shillelahs whirl in the air, and the thumps,--which are generally
applied to the head,--bang and snap like the distant report of
fire-arms, till one party has gained the victory. As I was now at the
fountain-head, through the mediation of mine host I bought one of the
finest specimens of this weapon, yet warm from the fight. It is as hard
as iron, and that it may be sure to do execution, it is also weighted at
the end with lead.
The celebrated O'Connell is now residing at about thirty miles from
hence, in his solitary fortress in the most desert region of Ireland. As
I have long wished to know him, I sent a messenger from this place, and
determined, while waiting for his answer, to make an excursion to
Glengariff Bay, whither I accordingly set out as soon as I had dined.
Driving is now completely at an end: I can proceed only on a poney or on
foot. I set out, a poney carrying my baggage, and I and my guide walking
by his side. If either of us were tired, the good little horse was to
carry us too. The sun soon set, but the moon shone bright. The road was
not uninteresting, though horribly bad, often leading through bog and
brook without bridge or stepping-stone. It became indescribably
difficult after six or eight miles, where we had to climb a high and
nearly perpendicular hill, treading only on loose and pointed stones,
from which we slipped back at every step nearly as far as we went
forward. The descent on the other side was still worse, especially when
a mountain intercepted the moon's light. I was so weary that I could
walk no further, and seated myself on the poney. This little creature
showed almost human intelligence. Going up-hill he helped himself with
his nose, and I think even with his teeth, as a fifth leg; and
down-hill, he wriggled with incessant twisting of his body like a
spider. When he came to a boggy place, in which there was only here and
there a stone, thrown by way of step, he crept as slowly as a sloth,
always trying first with his foot whether the stone would bear him and
his burthen. The whole scene was most singular. The night was so clear,
that I could see around me to a great distance; but nothing met my eye
save rocks ranged above rocks, of every shape and kind, standing out
gigantic, wild and sharp, against the sky. No living creature, not a
tree or bush, was to be seen, only our own shadows trailed after us; not
a sound was heard but our own voices, and sometimes the distant rush of
a mountain-stream, or more rarely the melancholy horn of a herdsman
collecting his cattle wandering amid these pathless wilds. Once only we
saw one of these cows, which, like the mountain-sheep of Wales, have
caught the shyness of wild animals. She was lying in the road, but on
our approach sprang bellowing over the rocks, and vanished in the
darkness like a black spirit.
About an hour before you reach Glengariff Bay the landscape becomes as
luxuriant and park-like as it has heretofore been dreary and barren.
Here the rocks arise in the strangest forms, out of Hesperian thickets
of arbutus, Portugal laurel, and other lovely and fragrant shrubs. Many
of these rocks stand like palaces, smooth as marble, without excrescence
or inequality; others form pointed pyramids, or long continuous walls.
In the valley sparkled solitary lights, and a gentle breeze waved the
tops of the high oaks, ashes, and birches, intermingled with beautiful
holly, whose scarlet berries were visible even by moonlight. The
magnificent bay now glittered under the web of moonbeams which lay upon
it; and I really thought myself in Paradise when I reached its shore,
and alighted at the door of a pretty cheerful inn. Cheerful as was its
exterior, mourning was within its gates. The host and hostess, very
respectable people, came out to receive me, dressed in deep mourning. On
my inquiring the cause, they told me that her sister, the most beautiful
girl in Kerry, eighteen years of age and the picture of health, died the
day before of a brain-fever, or rather, of the ignorance of the village
doctor:--the poor woman added, weeping, that a week's illness had
changed her to forty, so that nobody could recognize the corpse of the
once blooming girl, or those sweet features which were so lately the
pride of her parents and the admiration of all the young men in the
neighbourhood.
She lies close by my bed-room, dear Julia! parted from me only by a few
boards.--Four feet from her stands the table at which I am writing to
you. Such is the world;--life and death, joy and grief, are never far
apart.
_Kenmare, Sept. 27th._
At six o'clock I was stirring, and at seven in the magnificent park of
Colonel W----, brother of Lord B----, whose family possesses all the
country around the bays of Bantry and Glengariff, perhaps the most
beautiful part of Ireland. The extent of this estate is princely,
although in a pecuniary point of view not so considerable, the greater
part of the land, consisting of uncultivated rocks and mountains, which
pay only the rent of romantic beauties and magnificent views. Mr. W----
's park is certainly one of the most perfect creations of that kind, and
owes its existence entirely to his perseverance and good taste. It is
true, that he could nowhere have found a spot of earth more grateful for
his labours; but it seldom happens that art and nature so cordially
unite. It is enough to say that the former is perceptible only in the
most perfect harmony; otherwise, it appears to vanish into pure
nature:--not a tree or a bush seems planted by design. The vast
resources of distant prospect are wisely husbanded; they come upon the
eye by degrees, and as if unavoidably: every path is cut in a direction
which seems the only one it could take without constraint and artifice:
the most enchanting effects of woods and plantations are produced by
skilful management, by contrast of masses, by felling some, thinning
others, clearing off or keeping down branches; so that the eye is
attracted now into the depths of the wood, now above, now below the
boughs; and every possible variety within the region of the beautiful is
produced. This beauty is never displayed naked, but always sufficiently
veiled to leave the requisite play for the imagination: for a perfect
park,--in other words, a tract of country idealized _by art_,--should be
like a good book, which suggests _at least_ as many new thoughts and
feelings as it expresses.
The dwelling-house is not visible till you reach an opposite height; it
then suddenly emerges from the mass of wood, its outline broken by
scattered trees in groups, and its walls garlanded with ivy and roses
and creeping plants. It was built after the plan of the possessor; in a
style not so much Gothic as antiquely picturesque, such as a delicate
feeling of the suitable and harmonious conceived to be in keeping with
the surrounding scenery. The execution is excellent; for the imitation
of the antique is quite deceptive. The ornaments are so sparingly and so
suitably interspersed, the whole so well constructed for habitation and
comfort, and the part which appears the oldest has such a neglected and
uninhabited air, that the impression it made, on me at least, completely
answered the intention of the architect; for I took it to be an old
abbey, lately rendered habitable, and modernized just so far as our
habits rendered necessary. At the back of the house are hot-houses and a
walled garden in beautiful order, both connected with the
sitting-rooms,--so that you live in the midst of flowers, tropical
plants and fruits, without leaving the house. The climate is the most
favourable possible for vegetation,--moist, and so warm that not only
azaleas, rhododendrons, and all sorts of evergreens stand abroad through
the winter, but even, in a favourable aspect, camellias. Dates,
pomegranates, magnolias, lyriodendrons, &c. attain their fullest beauty;
and the three last are not even covered. The situation affords extensive
views, remarkable variety, and yet a complete whole, enclosed within
high mountains. Bantry and Glengariff bays are seas in miniature, and
supply to the eye the want of the ocean. On the land side the wavy lines
of mountain seem nearly endless.
The lesser bay of Glengariff, which stretches in front of the house, is
nine miles, the other fifty miles in circumference. Among the mountains
immediately opposite to the park rises another sugar-loaf, and at its
foot a narrow line of hills stretches into the midst of the bay, where
its termination is picturesquely marked by a deserted fort. The park
itself lies along one entire side of the bay, and at its lesser end
borders on that of Bantry, where Lord B----'s house forms the principal
object from this side. This whole beautiful domain was called out of
nothing only forty years ago, and is yet only half finished. Such a work
deserves a crown: and the excellent man who with slender means, but with
singular talent and perseverance, has accomplished it, ought to be held
up as a model to those Irish proprietors who spend their money abroad. I
heard with real satisfaction, that on his and Lord B----'s estates
party hate is unknown. Both are Protestants,--all their 'tenants' are
Catholics; nevertheless they render an obedience as boundless as it is
voluntary and cordial. Colonel W----, indeed, lives like a patriarch
among them, as I learnt from the common people themselves, and settles
all their differences, so that not a penny is spent in the wire-drawings
of the law.
You may be sure that I was eager to make the acquaintance of so
admirable a man: I esteemed myself, therefore, highly favoured by
fortune in meeting him in the park inspecting the operations of his
workmen. Our conversation took a very interesting and, to me, very
instructive turn. I readily accepted his invitation to breakfast with
him and his family; and found in his wife a lady with whom I had made a
transient acquaintance in the whirl of London. She received so
unexpected a guest most cordially, and introduced me to her two
daughters of seventeen and eighteen. They are not yet out; for as I have
told you, in England, where they bring out horses 'sans comparaison' too
early, the poor girls are let to grow almost old before their
leading-strings are taken off and they are launched into the wicked
world.
The family show me all possible civility and kindness; and as the ladies
saw me so passionate a lover of nature, they urged me to stay some days,
that I might visit the various wonders of their neighbourhood,
especially the celebrated waterfall, and view from Hungry Hill, in their
company. It was impossible for me to stay, as I had already announced
myself at O'Connell's; but shall certainly avail myself of their
invitation on my way to Cork, for such society is not of the kind that I
shun.
I therefore contented myself for the present with taking a long walk
with the whole family, first along the bay, to obtain a general view of
the park and garden; then into a wood, in which Lord B---- has a
'shooting lodge.' This spot is as if invented for a romance. All that
the most secluded solitude, the richest vegetation, the freshest and
greenest meadows, surrounded by rocks and mountains; valleys on whose
sides precipitous walls of rock, sometimes a thousand feet high,
thickly-wooded glens, a rapid torrent dashing over masses of rock and
over-arched by picturesque bridges of trunks and arms of trees; groves
amid which the sunbeams play, and the cool waters refresh a thousand
wild flowers; animals sporting about in joyous security, majestic eagles
and gay-plumed singing birds, all rendered doubly dear to the poetic
heart by the sweetest repose and retirement;--all that such elements can
produce is here found combined in the richest profusion. With melancholy
regret I quitted these enchanting fancies of our dear mother earth, and
tore myself away, when we reached the rustic gate, at which my guide and
poney were already waiting for me.
As I took leave of my new friends, and turned my back on the lovely
valley, the heavens were overclouded anew, and on my entrance into the
dreary rocky region which I described to you yesterday, assumed the hue
most suited to my disposition and to the surrounding objects. Tired of
my long ride of yesterday, I wished to walk; but on my inquiring for my
over-shoes, which the wetness of the road rendered needful, I found that
the guide had lost one of them; and as fine scenery is better enjoyed
dry-footed, I sent him back, hoping to restore to my sorrowful galoche
its faithful mate, at least for the morrow: for to-day I resolved to
continue my way through thick and thin on foot.
A soft rain began to fall,--one mountain after another was veiled from
sight; and I wandered on, to the region where only the vast bones of the
earth are visible, casting back many a melancholy lingering thought to
the lost paradise. Meanwhile the rain became more and more heavy, and
sudden gusts of wind soon announced a serious storm. I had to climb the
high mountain which lies in the middle of the first half of the way, and
already I was met by torrents of water which gushed like little cascades
through every cleft. As I am seldom in the way of enjoying such a bath
in the open air, I waded with a great feeling of satisfaction and
pleasure through the streams, throwing myself in some degree into the
pleasurable state of mind of a duck. Nothing of that kind is, as you
know, impossible to my mobile fancy. But as the weather became every
minute more dark and stormy, my thoughts also became more gloomy, and
indeed fell almost into the fashionable scornful satanic vein. The
superstition of the mountains surrounded me; I could not withstand it,
and Rübezahl, the Bohemian Huntsman, elfs, fairies, and the Evil One
himself, all passed before my mind; and I asked myself, "why should not
the Devil appear to me, as well as to other respectable gentlemen?" At
this instant I reached the highest point of the steep mountain.
The storm howled furiously, water fell in sheets from the heavens, and
the deep basin below me appeared now and then for a minute from behind
its black curtain, and then vanished again in the rolling mist and the
gathering twilight.
A sudden gust of wind now completely inverted my umbrella, and nearly
threw me down. I felt as if some giant fist had struck me. I turned and
saw--nothing:--But how? does not something move there in the corner?--by
heaven it does! My amazement was not slight when I now discerned, as
clearly as darkness and rain would permit, a figure clad in black from
head to foot, with a scarlet cap on its head advancing at a slow and
limping pace towards me.
Now, dear Julia, 'est-ce moi ou le diable qui écrira le reste?' or do
you think I am inventing a fable to amuse you. 'Point du
tout'--_Ditchung und Wahrheit_[133] is my motto. At all events I must
close my letter here: I venture to hope my next will be expected with
some impatience. Wholly yours,