Kanturk, the birthplace of Barry Yelverton, to ~Mallow~ which is the
centre of the lines of railway radiating into Kerry, Fermoy, and
Lismore, as well as to Cork city. The town is very beautifully situated.
In the distance are the Kilworth mountains, which seem afar off to join
the ample deer-park at Mallow Castle. It was once one of the liveliest
and most fashionable resorts in Ireland, but its famous spas, to which
gentlewomen and gallants came in the last century, are now unfrequented
and almost forgotten. When abductions, duelling, and such pastimes were
in vogue, "The Rakes of Mallow" were in their heyday. As Lysaght sang:--
"Beauing, belleing, dancing, drinking,
Breaking windows, damning, sinking,
Ever raking, never thinking,
Live the rakes of Mallow.
Spending faster than it comes,
Beating waiters, bailiffs, duns,
Bacchus' true-begotten sons,
Live the rakes of Mallow.
Living short, but merry lives.
Going where the devil drives:
Having sweethearts, but no wives,
Live the rakes of Mallow."
[Illustration: _Photo, Roche, Dublin._ Mallow Castle.]
~The Blackwater~ flows past Mallow through a rich country surrounded by
soft-breasted hills and well-planted lawns, to Fermoy, a garrison town
of importance, from which Mitchelstown, eleven miles away, may be
reached by a light railway. The caves at Mitchelstown are described
elsewhere (Waterford section). We will part the branch line here and
return, _via_ Cork, to Youghal, the point from which to become familiar
with the Blackwater at its best.
~Youghal~, except in summer-time, when the visitors to its splendid
strand enliven its appearance, is a sombre old place with an air of
retired respectability. It is full of memories of other days, for here
the Dane and the Christian came together; the Norman made it a walled
town, and the Spaniards came into its harbour.
[Illustration: _Photo, Roche, Dublin._ View on the Blackwater Youghal.]
[Illustration: _Photo, Roche, Dublin._ The Clock Tower, Youghal.]
[Illustration: _Photo, Roche, Dublin._ Sir Walter Raleigh's House at
Youghal.]
From here Sir Walter Raleigh, its Mayor, went forth to found
Virginia--and to the scaffold. It was a chartered city, and grew in
wealth and importance from 1183 to 1579, when it was sacked by Gerald,
sixteenth Earl of Desmond, then out "upon his keeping." Ormonde drove
the Geraldines out of the town, and hanged the then Mayor outside his
own door for aiding them. He rebuilt its walls, and placed here a
strong garrison. In 1641 it was again besieged, but held out for six
weeks until relieved. In 1645, Castlehaven attacked it, but was repulsed
by Broghill, fifth son of the Earl of Cork. Here, during the war with
the Confederates, money was struck. On the execution of Charles I.,
Ormonde proclaimed his son King, but the Puritans in the town revolted
to Cromwell, who wintered here in 1649. In 1660, the Cavaliers and
broken followers of the Geraldines captured the town, and ten days
before his actual succession proclaimed Charles II. King. With varying
fortunes of war, the town passed into the hands of the Jacobites and
Williamites. The objects of interest, besides the picturesque
attractions of the strand and beautiful bay, are very many. The Clock
Tower remains where the old South Gate to the town stood. Tynte's Castle
was built by Norman settlers in the fifteenth century. St. Mary's
Cathedral is cruciform, consisting of nave, aisle, transepts, choir, and
massive tower. In the chantry of Our Blessed Saviour, or south transept,
besides the memorial to the founder and his countess, is the grotesque
mausoleum, in florid, glaring Italian style, to the Earl of Cork and his
family. At Boyle's feet is the kneeling figure of his first wife, Joan;
at his head is that of his second, Catherine. Over the arch is his
mother, Joan, and along the margin of the plinth are nine diminutive
effigies--his children. The tower was evidently constructed rather as a
defence than simply for a belfry. The churchyard, where there are many
ancient gravestones, is the chief centre of local superstition, and here
all local ghostly visitations are alleged to take place. ~Myrtle Grove~,
whilom the residence of the ill-fated Elizabethan soldier, Raleigh, is
an unpretentious, ancient gabled dwelling. The interior is remarkable
for its beautiful oak wainscoting.
During his sojourn in Munster, "Captain Sir Walter Raleigh" performed
many deeds of dering-do, albeit some of them were far from being like
Bayard's, without reproach. He was Mayor of Youghal, 1588-9; and, with
Spenser, was granted the greater part of the forfeited estates of the
Earl of Desmond. Raleigh's grant comprised property at Youghal and along
the Blackwater to Affane, already mentioned. In the garden attached to
Myrtle Grove he is supposed to have planted the potato, the first
planted in Ireland.
The strand at Youghal is very fine, and sea-bathers are afforded every
opportunity of enjoying themselves. In summer time the watering-place is
much patronized, and every year is becoming more attractive. There are
good hotels, and plenty of residences and lodgings to accommodate
visitors during the season. In the morning the whole fore-shore is given
over to the bathers, and in the evenings it is mostly "Oh, listen to the
band" along the Promenade and in the Green Park. The inroads of the sea
at Claycastle are at length being successfully encountered by the Case
groining system, which has been found so efficient elsewhere.
The coast-line from Youghal to Cork is indented with splendid sea
cliffs, fiords, and strands. Garryvoe lies between Youghal and
Ballycotton. The sea for miles along this district has been eating into
the clay cliffs, and threatens to fulfil a Gaelic prophecy that it will
yet reach Killeagh, a town six miles inland. Near Killeagh is a very
beautiful scene of sylvan splendour, Glenbower.
The railway line runs direct from Youghal to Cork, passing the thriving
market town of Midleton, the granary of Cork County, and Carrigtwohill,
where there are the ruins of a Norman Castle.
A ferry from Youghal brings the passenger into Waterford County. The
road above Whiting Bay leads to the fishing village of ~Ardmore~. It was
perhaps, the first place in Ireland where the light of Christianity
shone, as St. Declan is generally agreed to have been a precursor of the
National apostle. In the country districts surrounding, as in the
fishing village itself, the language most in use is Gaelic. The round
tower, said to be of later date than any other in Ireland, is unique in
many respects. The Cathedral, with its exquisite chancel arch and
elaborate exterior arcading, will delight the antiquary and architect.
Other interesting objects are the Ogham stones in its chancel, and the
narrow lintelled "Bed" of St. Declan.
[Illustration: _Photo, Lawrence, Dublin._ Strancally Castle, Co.
Waterford.]
The service of steamers from Youghal to Cappoquin up the ~River
Blackwater~ depends at present mainly on the state of the tide. But
despite this and other things, the scenery on the river side will well
repay inconvenience. Having left the ferry behind, the first place of
interest is Rhincrew (The Bloody Point), and on the wooded hill the
ruins of a preceptory of the Knights Templars still remain. Higher up on
the western bank of the Glendine tributary stands Temple Michael, an
old fortalice of the Geraldines, which Cromwell battered down for "dire
insolence."
[Illustration: _Photo, Lawrence, Dublin._ Blackwater River.]
There is a legend which tells that the last of the Geraldines was buried
at Ardmore, far from his young bride, who lost her life during the siege
by the regicides. The story says, after his burial, at night his voice
could be heard clearly, calling across the river, to bring him back and
bury him by his own. For seven years the awe-struck peasants heard the
plaintive voice calling, in the tender tongue of the Gael, "Garault,
come to me,"--"Gerald, a ferry!" At last, some young men of his clan
went to Ardmore and brought his dead body to Temple Michael, where his
wife was buried, and henceforth his spirit no longer troubled the silent
vigils of the fishermen at night.
The bend in the waterway brings one into sight of rich pastures and fine
demesnes. Ballintray, "The Town of the Strand" has in its vicinity
Molana Abbey, where the warrior, Raymond Le Gros, lies buried. At the
broads of Clashmore, the highest water-mark to which the inflowing tide
comes, one can easily imagine themselves upon an inland lake. Beyond is
Strancally Castle, beetling over the river, set firmly in a foundation
of crags. The local tradition carriers will gladly point out "The
Murdering Hole," a natural fissure in the rocks, and here they will tell
you that the departed Desmonds destroyed their guests after robbing
them! Above the confluence of the Bride with the Blackwater,
Villierstown and Camphire villages are passed, then the Awbeg joins its
little flood, and beyond the island Dromana Ford is reached. Near is
Dromana Castle, where "the old Countess of Desmond" was born. In the
table-book of Robert Sydney, second Earl of Leyicester, written when
Ambassador at Paris, about 1640, there is the following reference to
her:--
"The old Countess of Desmond was a marryed woman in Edward IV. time
of England, and lived till towards the end of Queen Elizabeth, so
as she must needes be neare one hundred and forty years old. She
had a new sett of teeth not long afore her death, and might have
lived much longer had she not mett with a kind of violent death,
for she would needes climbe a nut-tree to gather nuts, so falling
down she hurt her thigh, which brought a fever, and that fever
brought death. This my cousin, Walter Fitzwilliam, told me. This
old lady, Mr. Haniot told me, came to petition the Queen, and,
landing at Bristoll, she came on foot to London, being then so old
that her daughter was decrepit, and not able to come with her."
Dromana House, on the eastern branch of the river, is situated on a
beautiful height, which commands the reaches of the river from Cappoquin
to Youghal. At more than one point on the river there were opportunities
of seeing in the distance the cloisters of ~Mount Melleray~--"the little
town of God," lonely above the mists and shadows of the hills. As we
walk or drive, the hillside behind the river winds its way through
cliffs and well-wooded lands in front, the mountains unfold themselves
range behind range. No one who has ever visited Mount Melleray will
forget it or the generous Brothers. The Trappists, expelled from France
in 1830, first settled on the borders of Kerry, but subsequently
colonised this barren hillside, and already they have transformed it
into a fine farm, containing rich pastures and thriving plantations. The
monastery may be visited by gentlemen visitors, and cannot fail to prove
of extraordinary interest. There are two guest houses, one for gentlemen
and the other for ladies. No charge is made for their bed or board, and
all creeds, classes, and nationalities are received with a _caed mille
failté_. Every week a sermon in Irish is preached to the mountaineers.
[Illustration: _Photo, Roche, Dublin._ Mount Melleray--View from South.]
Either from Melleray or Cappoquin, ~Lismore~ may be reached by car or
train. It was the home of learning of old, and to-day, not only its
beautiful position but historic Castle command attention. It is the
birthplace of Boyle, the philosopher. Ptolemy is asserted very
confidently by some authorities to have mentioned this place and its
river. It is certain, however, that the place was long in existence in
631, when St. Carthage, of Rahan, fled thither. Nothing could be
prettier than the appearance of the town, and it is a comfortable,
well-to-do place, monopolising the trade of a large countryside. St.
Machuda's Cathedral will repay inspection. The Castle is the Irish seat
of the Duke of Devonshire. It was an ancient fortress, dating back to
the reign of King John. It stands in a pre-eminently commanding
position, over the Blackwater, and was the scene of many a hard-fought
fight, especially in the wars of the Commonwealth, when Castlehaven
captured it from the Roundheads. A magnificent view of the surrounding
country may be had from its higher-storied windows. The public are
freely admitted. From one of the high windows, it is said, when James
II. was asked to look, he accused the maker of the suggestion of
desiring to throw him from the dizzy height.
From the Railway Station at Lismore, the most interesting object in view
is the new Roman Catholic Cathedral, dedicated to St. Carthage, the
founder of the See, and believed to occupy the site of his cell. Thickly
surrounded by beautiful lime trees, the warm red sandstones of the
walling, with the limestone dressing of the windows and doorways, forms
a brilliant picture. The interior is richly furnished, and altogether
the church is well worthy of a visit.
[Illustration: _Photo, Roche, Dublin._ The Guest House, Mount Melleray.]
[Illustration]
Waterford and District.
Waterford is the port of call for most of the shipping from the West and
South of England and Wales. The projected system by which steamers will
run direct from Fishguard to Rosslare Harbour, whatever effect it may
have upon Waterford as a port, will bring it by many hours nearer to the
English markets. It is only a question of a few years until this route
will be at the disposal of tourists and travellers from across the
Channel. Under the Amalgamation of Railways Act of 1900, Waterford has
the additional advantage of becoming a terminus of the system. With it
as centre, railway services are supplied to Cork County and Lismore, to
Limerick _via_ Carrick-on-Suir and Clonmel, and to Kilkenny _via_
Kilmacow and Thomastown.
[Illustration: _Photo, Croker, Waterford._ Waterford.]
[Illustration: _Photo, Roche, Dublin._ Waterford, from North Side of
River.]
"The Star of the Suir"--the City of ~Waterford~--derived its name from
the Danish words, Vedr-fiord, given to it by its original founders, the
hardy Norsemen. From whatever side we approach the old town, whether
land or sea, the sight is equally delightful. From without, approaching
by the broad waterway, the city stretches forth to meet us, with the
quaint wooden bridge spanning the noble river, and the hills forming a
zone behind. Surely the Danes had an eye for beauty, as for maritime
advantage, in selecting this happy spot for their fortress. In the ninth
century, when the ploughers of the sea seized on the mouth of the Suir,
they fortified a little delta some twenty acres in size, having the
present Quay as its long side. From this little triangle the town grew,
and in the last century was one of the first seaport towns in Ireland.
Here, in 1171, Strongbow landed, defeated the Danes and Irish, who had
confederated to repel him, and sacked the town. It is a strange
historical coincidence that the Feast of St. Bartholomew was the day on
which Strongbow landed and countenanced the massacre of the inhabitants.
Under Raymond Le Gros the carnage was carried out, and in St. Lawrence
O'Toole's address to the Irish princes at peace with the invader, which
has been versified by Sir Charles Gavan Duffy, it is referred to in the
lines:--
"Tell me not of leagues and treaties,
Treaties sealed in faith as true
As Black Raymond's, on the bloody
Feast of St. Bartholomew."
[Illustration: _Photo, Croker, Waterford._ The Quays, Waterford.]
King John landed here, and the town was walled in and fortified against
the Irish, who hung like wolves around a fold in the outlying country.
In the Revolution the town adhered to the King. It was the port most
used by the Confederates, and here many of their proclamations were
printed. It was the one place in Ireland which successfully resisted the
all-conquering Cromwell, and hence received the name from the Cavaliers
of _Urbs intacta_. An object of historic interest which has been
restored within the present century is Reginald's Tower. It was built
originally by Reginald the Dane, son of Sitrius, the great Danish King
of Dublin and Fingal (The Fair Strangers), whom Brian Boru defeated at
Clontarf. Here, it is said, DeClair married Eva, whose fair face induced
him to join his forces to her father's fallen fortunes. Maclise, in his
wonderful historical picture "Bartered Away,"[4] represents the nuptials
as taking place on the battlefield, dyed with the blood of the
vanquished Irish. There could not have been much love in the match after
all. Strongbow was scarcely dead when his young widow wrote to Raymond
Le Gros that "a great tooth had fallen out," which he understood to mean
that the time had arrived for him to come and make her his own, which he
did. The patron saints of the diocese of Waterford and Lismore are Saint
Cartach and Saint Otteran, the latter being a Dane who embraced
Christianity. The Cathedral (Episcopalian) occupies the site of the old
Danish Cathedral, the existence of which, together with that of Christ
Church in Dublin, bears testimony to the zeal with which the Danes
embraced Christianity. The Quay is the most characteristic bit of
Waterford. Across the bridge, from Mount Misery or Cromwell's Rock, two
points of vantage, excellent views of the surroundings can be had. The
Suir, shining silvery, steals in and out among the hills and by the old
town into the sea. The most interesting of the ancient monuments in
Waterford is what is commonly called the "French Church," which, more
correctly, is entitled "The Holy Ghost Friary." Authorities agree in
assigning the date of its foundation to 1240, but its history has never
been written. After the Edict of Nantes, the fugitive Huguenots formed a
little colony in Waterford. The Corporation granted a salary to their
minister, and they were provided with a place of worship in the choir of
the old church. All that remain of this once gorgeous pile of
buildings are the ruins of the tower, Lady Chapel, chancel, and nave.
The style is Early English, and the most attractive feature is the
graceful three-lighted east window. The Catholic Cathedral is worth a
visit. Within easy reach of the Quay is Ballybricken, the heart of the
bacon industry, and the home of the best known body of pig-buyers in
Ireland. These men are almost a community to themselves. They have their
own traditions, and are more like an organisation which would have
sprung up from a church guild centuries ago than in any way a modern
trades union. Formerly Waterford was remarkable for the manufacture of
beautiful cut glass, but the industry has died away. The housekeeper who
possesses specimens of the art considers herself lucky indeed in her
possession, as collectors are continually on the alert to procure them.
In the immediate vicinity of Waterford itself there are many beauty
spots and places of interest. In the suburb of Newtown stands the
paternal home of Lord Roberts of Waterford and Candahar, besides whom on
its roll of famous children Waterford includes the names of Charles
Keane and Vincent Wallace. Portlaw, four and a half miles away, on the
south bank of the Suir, was once the centre of a thriving cotton
industry. Here an order may be had at the estate office to visit
Curraghmore, the residence of the Marquis of Waterford. The magnificent
demesne includes over four thousand acres, and Curraghmore is possessed
of the best-blooded stud of hunters in Ireland.
[Illustration: Imperial Hotel, Waterford.]
[Illustration: Curraghmore.]
[Illustration: _Photo, Croker, Waterford._ Tramore.]
~Tramore~, seven miles away, is reached by train in fifteen minutes. It
is one of the most popular watering places in the South of Ireland, and
in the height of the season it is estimated that about four thousand
visitors augment the normal population of two thousand. Many of the
Waterford merchants live there, and their villas and the houses of the
town, rising one street above another on the side of the hill, make a
pretty picture when viewed from the strand. The hotels are numerous,
the Grand Hotel can be recommended as being specially comfortable, while
there are three or four other hotels where very good accommodation can
be had. The lodging-house accommodation is equal to that to be obtained
at any Irish seaside resort.
[Illustration: _Photo, Croker, Waterford._ Evening at Tramore.]
In addition to capital sea and trout fishing, the visitor can enjoy the
pleasures of golf and lawn-tennis, and during the summer months races
are frequently held at the Tramore Flying Course, which is situated
within view of the town. The views of this pleasantly situated holiday
reunion will recall to many minds happy days spent by the Sounding Sea.
The Rabbit Burrow, a little further on, is a mile in length, and helps
to divide the Back Strand from the spacious bay. Just before reaching
this Burrow, the visitor will see a tombstone erected to the memory of
those who were lost in the "Sea Horse" transport, in January, 1816, when
returning from the Peninsular Campaign. No less than 362 lost their
lives in this terrible disaster. At the western side of Tramore there
are many places along the rock-bound coast well worth a visit. Passing
along in the Newtown direction we come in view of the Ladies' Cove;
here, years ago, a fishing pier was built by the Board of Works. It was
swept right away one stormy night over two decades ago, and has not been
replaced since. Along the Cliff Road we catch views of Gun's Cove, and
the Gillameen Cove, where excellent bathing facilities, free of charge,
can be availed of by the visitor.
On the western shore, twelve miles by road from Waterford, is the pretty
watering place of ~Dunmore~. It is situated at the mouth of the river
Suir in a valley gently sloping to the sea, and is protected from the
north winds by a wood which, in the hot summer days, is a most
delightful resort for visitors. There is also a public park and tennis
ground, and the facilities for bathing, particularly for gentlemen,
leave nothing to be desired.
[Illustration: _Photo, Croker, Waterford._ Dunmore.]
In the early part of the last century the place was a mail packet
station for the mails to and from England. The harbour was built by the
Government at a cost of about £100,000, and is at present under the
control of the Board of Works. Here, in the fishing season, are boats
from all parts of the Kingdom fishing for herring and mackerel, and
special steamers are constantly running to and from Milford with the
harvest of the sea.
There are some particularly good villas and houses which can be rented
in the season, and there is a good hotel just over the harbour, while
rooms are to be had on reasonable terms at many houses in the town. For
persons who desire a select quiet place to spend a holiday in, it can be
recommended strongly, while for those who are fond of sea-fishing or
yachting no better place in Ireland can be had. Although there is no
railway connection with Waterford cars run daily, the fare being only
_1s._ for the twelve miles.
Above the confluence of the Barrow and Suir, six and a half miles from
the city, from the top of the hill over Cheekpoint (Side a fairy)--where
"the river Rosse meets the river of Waterford"--a grand panorama
presents itself. In the distance the mountains shoulder one another for
prominence; the Comeraghs, the many peaked Galtees, and
"Sweet Slievenamon, the darling and pride,
With soft flowing bosom and brow like a bride."
This beautiful mountain owes its name, "The Hill of the Women," to a
Finnian legend, which tells that Finn M'Cool promised to make his wife
of whichever of the fair women of Ireland could reach its summit first,
when all were started from the foot. Grainne Oge, the Gaelic Helen, of
course was heroine of the day, and Finn's taking her was the origin of
one of the most enthralling of the Celtic romances.
[Illustration: _Photo, Croker, Waterford._ Dunmore Harbour.]