Cashel was destroyed during the civil wars. The famous Geral

Transcriber's Note

Certain typographical features, such as italic font, cannot be

reproduced in this version of the text. Any italicized font is

delimited with the underscore character as _italic_. Any "small cap"

text is shifted to all uppercase. The occasional 'oe' ligature is

given as separate characters. Fractions are formatted as, for

example, "2-1/4".

Illustrations, of course, cannot be provided here, but their

approximate positions in the text are indicated as:

[Illustration: caption]

Please consult the more detailed notes at the end of this text for

the resolution of any other issues that were encountered.

ONE IRISH SUMMER

[Illustration: AN ANCIENT CELTIC CROSS AT GLENDALOUGH]

ONE IRISH SUMMER

BY

WILLIAM ELEROY CURTIS

AUTHOR OF

"_The Yankees of the East_," "_Between the Andes and the Ocean_"

"_Modern India_," "_The Turk and his Lost Provinces_"

"_To-day in Syria and Palestine_," _etc._

_ILLUSTRATED_

[Illustration]

NEW YORK

_DUFFIELD & COMPANY_

1909

COPYRIGHT, 1908,

BY WILLIAM E. CURTIS

COPYRIGHT, 1909,

BY DUFFIELD & COMPANY

THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.

CONTENTS

PAGE

I. A SUMMER IN IRELAND 1

II. THE CATHEDRALS AND DEAN SWIFT 15

III. HOW IRELAND IS GOVERNED 34

IV. DUBLIN CASTLE 53

V. THE REDEMPTION OF IRELAND 60

VI. SACRED SPOTS IN DUBLIN 77

VII. THE OLD AND NEW UNIVERSITIES 97

VIII. ROUND ABOUT DUBLIN 115

IX. THE LANDLORDS AND THE LANDLESS 130

X. MAYNOOTH COLLEGE AND CARTON HOUSE 143

XI. DROGHEDA, AND THE VALLEY OF THE BOYNE 159

XII. TARA, THE ANCIENT CAPITAL OF IRELAND 174

XIII. SAINT PATRICK AND HIS SUCCESSOR 188

XIV. THE SINN FEIN MOVEMENT 202

XV. THE NORTH OF IRELAND 209

XVI. THE THRIVING CITY OF BELFAST 222

XVII. THE QUAINT OLD TOWN OF DERRY 237

XVIII. IRISH EMIGRATION AND COMMERCE 247

XIX. IRISH CHARACTERISTICS AND CUSTOMS 260

XX. WICKLOW AND WEXFORD 268

XXI. THE LAND OF RUINED CASTLES 283

XXII. THE IRISH HORSE AND HIS OWNER 300

XXIII. CORK AND BLARNEY CASTLE 312

XXIV. REMINISCENCES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH 330

XXV. GLENGARIFF, THE LOVELIEST SPOT IN IRELAND 343

XXVI. THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY 366

XXVII. INTEMPERANCE, INSANITY, AND CRIME 391

XXVIII. THE EDUCATION OF IRISH FARMERS 404

XXIX. LIMERICK, ASKEATON, AND ADARE 417

XXX. COUNTY GALWAY AND RECENT LAND TROUBLES 432

XXXI. CONNEMARA AND THE NORTHWEST COAST 443

XXXII. WORK OF THE CONGESTED DISTRICTS BOARD 459

INDEX 475

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

An Ancient Celtic Cross at Glendalough _Frontispiece_

FACING PAGE

Queenstown 4

The Rock of Cashel, County Tipperary 8

Holycross Abbey, County Tipperary 10

St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin 16

The Tomb of Strongbow, Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin 32

The Earl of Aberdeen, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in 1906-9 34

The Countess of Aberdeen 36

The Four Courts, Dublin 48

The Castle, Dublin; Official Residence of the Lord Lieutenant

and Headquarters of the Government 54

The Customs House, Dublin 78

The Bank of Ireland, Old Parliament House, Dublin 80

St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 90

Quadrangle, Trinity College, Dublin 98

Main Entrance, Trinity College, Dublin 102

Sackville Street, Dublin, showing Nelson's Pillar 116

Lighthouse at Howth, Mouth of Dublin Bay 122

Portumna Castle, County Galway; the Seat of the Earl of

Clanricarde 138

Maynooth College, County Kildare 144

Carton House, Maynooth, County Kildare; the Residence of the

Duke of Leinster 152

A Celtic Cross at Monasterboice, County Louth 166

Ruins of Mellifont Abbey, near Drogheda, County Louth 168

Carrickfergus Castle 180

St. Patrick's Cathedral at Armagh, the Seat of Cardinal Logue,

the Roman Catholic Primate of Ireland 194

Cathedral, Downpatrick, where St. Patrick lived, and in the

Churchyard of which he was buried 196

The Village of Downpatrick 200

Rosstrevor House, near Belfast, the Residence of Sir John Ross,

of Bladensburg 210

Shane's Castle, near Belfast, the Ancient Stronghold of the

O'Neills, Kings of Ulster 216

Queen's College, Belfast 226

Albert Memorial, Belfast 228

The Giant's Causeway, Portrush, near Belfast 244

Bishop's Gate, Derry 246

Irish Market Women 260

An Ancient Bridge in County Wicklow 268

The Vale of Avoca, County Wicklow 272

The River Front at Waterford 290

Lismore Castle, Waterford County; Irish Seat of the Duke of

Devonshire 292

An Irish Jaunting Car 308

Going to Market 310

Queen's College, Cork 314

Blarney Castle, County Cork 322

Kilkenny Castle; Residence of the Duke of Ormonde 326

The Ancient City of Youghal, County Cork; the Home of Sir

Walter Raleigh 330

Myrtle Lodge; the Home of Sir Walter Raleigh 338

Lake Gougane-Barra, County Cork 348

Chapel erected by Mr. John R. Walsh of Chicago on the Island

of Gougane-Barra 350

The Pass of Keimaneigh through the Mountains between Cork

and Glengariff 352

Glengariff Bridge 356

Kenmare House, Killarney 372

Upper Lake, Killarney 376

Ross Castle, Killarney 380

Muckross Abbey, Killarney 384

A Window of Muckross Abbey, Killarney 388

Treaty Stone, Limerick 422

Adare Abbey, in the Private Grounds of the Earl of Dunraven,

near Limerick 428

Fish Market, Galway 438

Salmon Weir, Galway 442

A Scene in Connemara 444

Clifden Castle, County Galway 448

A Scene in the West of Ireland; Lenane Harbor 450

Barnes Gap, County Donegal 460

An Irish Cabin in County Donegal 464

The Old: A Laborer's Sod Cabin; The New: Example of the

Cottages built in Connemara by the Congested Districts

Board 470

Interior and Exterior of One-Story Cottages erected by the

Congested Districts Board 472

ONE IRISH SUMMER

I

A SUMMER IN IRELAND

For those who have never spent a summer in Ireland there remains a

delightful experience, for no country is more attractive, unless it be

Japan, and no people are more genial or charming or courteous in their

reception of a stranger, or more cordial in their hospitality. The

American tourist usually lands at Queenstown, runs up to Cork, rides out

to Blarney Castle in a jaunting car, and across to Killarney with a

crowd of other tourists on the top of a big coach, then rushes up to

Dublin, spends a lot of money at the poplin and lace stores, takes a

train for Belfast, glances at the Giant's Causeway, and then hurries

across St. George's Channel for London and the Continent. Hundreds of

Americans do this each year, and write home rhapsodies about the beauty

of Ireland. But they have not seen Ireland. No one can see Ireland in

less than three months, for some of the counties are as different as

Massachusetts and Alabama. Six weeks is scarcely long enough to visit

the most interesting places.

The railway accommodations, the coaches, the steamers, and other

facilities for travel are as perfect as those of Switzerland. The hotels

are not so good, and there will be a few discomforts here and there to

those who are accustomed to the luxuries of London and Paris, but they

can be endured without ruffling the temper, simply by thinking of the

manifold enjoyments that no other country can produce.

And Ireland is particularly interesting just now because of the mighty

forces that are engaged in the redemption of the people from the poverty

and the wretchedness in which a large proportion of them have been

submerged for generations. No government ever did so much for the

material welfare of its subjects as Great Britain is now doing for

Ireland, and the improvement in the condition of affairs during the last

few years has been extraordinary.

In order to observe and describe this economic evolution, the author

spent the summer of 1908 visiting various parts of the island and has

endeavored to narrate truthfully what he saw and heard. This volume

contains the greater part of a series of letters written for _The

Chicago Record-Herald_ and also published in _The Evening Star_ of

Washington, _The Times_ of St. Louis, and other American papers. By

permission of Mr. Frank B. Noyes, editor and publisher of _The Chicago

Record-Herald_, and to gratify many readers who have asked for them,

they are herewith presented in permanent form.

About three hundred passengers landed with us at Queenstown. Most of

them were young men and young women of Irish birth, returning after a

few years' experience in the United States. Several had come home to be

married, but most of them were on a visit to their parents and other

relatives. Among those who disembarked were several older men and women

who were born in Ireland, but had been taken to America in infancy or in

childhood and were now looking upon the fair face of Erin for the first

time.

There is an astonishing difference in the appearance and behavior of the

steerage passengers who are sailing east from those who are sailing

west. A few years, or even a few months, in America causes an

extraordinary change in the dress and the manners of a European peasant.

You can see it in the passengers that land at Genoa and Naples, and

those that land at Hamburg and Trieste. But it is even more noticeable

in the Americanized Irish who land at Queenstown by the thousand every

summer from New York. The Italian, the Hungarian, or the Pole who goes

aboard a steamer to America with his humble belongings and his quaint

looking garments is a very different person from the man who sails from

New York back to the fatherland a few years later. And the Irish boys

and girls who went ashore with us just as the sun was waking up Ireland

were as hearty, well dressed, and prosperous looking as you would wish

to see. And every young woman had a big "Saratoga" in place of the

"cotton trunk with the pin lock" that she carried away with her when she

left the old country for America the first time. I don't know what was

in those big trunks, although one can get a glimpse of their contents if

he stands by while the customs officers are inspecting them, but you can

see the names "Delia O'Connell, New York," "Katherine Burke, Chicago,"

and "Mary Murphy, Baltimore," marked in big black letters at either end.

And what is most noticeable, the trunks are all new. They have never

crossed the ocean before, but will be going back again to America in a

few months. Their owners will not be contented with the discomforts they

will find at their old homes. Ireland is more prosperous today than for

generations, but conditions among the poorer classes are very different

from those that exist in the new world.

The purser told me that he changed nearly $4,000 of American into

English money the day before we landed, for third-class passengers

alone. One man had $400; that was the maximum, but the rest of those who

disembarked at Queenstown had from $50 up to $250 and thereabouts in

cash, with their return tickets.

Queenstown makes a brave appearance from the deck of a ship in the bay,

even before sunrise. It lies along a steep slope, with green fields and

forests on either side, and the most conspicuous building is a beautiful

gothic cathedral, with an unfinished tower, that was commenced in 1868

and has cost nearly a million dollars already. The hill is so steep that

a heavy retaining wall has been built as a buttress to make the

cathedral foundations secure, and the worshipers must climb a winding

road or a sharp stairway to reach it. A little farther along the

hillside is an imposing marine hospital and group of barracks, from

which we could hear the bugles sounding "reveille" as we landed. There

are compensations to those who are marooned at Queenstown before

daylight, and one of them is the picturesque surroundings of the

ancient homes of the O'Mahony's, who ruled this part of Ireland for many

generations long ago.

The harbor is like an amphitheatre, entirely inclosed by hills, three

hundred or four hundred feet high, that are covered with frowning

battlements. Every hilltop is strongly fortified. The bay, which is four

miles long and about two miles wide, contains several islands, upon

which the government has built warehouses, repair shops, shipyards, and

the other appurtenances of a naval station, guarded by Fort Carlisle,

Fort Camden, and other modern fortresses. Upon Haulbowline Island is a

depot for ammunition and other ordnance stores, and the pilot told me

that on Rocky Island near by were two magazines--great chambers chiseled

out of the living rock by Irish convicts who were formerly confined

there--and that each of them contained twenty-five thousand barrels of

powder belonging to the British navy.

Queenstown has many handsome estates overlooking the sea and the bay

from the hills that inclose the harbor. There is an old ruined castle at

Monkstown that was built in 1636 by Anastasia Gould, wife of John

Archdecken, while her husband was at sea. She determined that she would

surprise him when he returned home. So she hired a lot of men to build a

castle with only the material they found on the estate, and made an

agreement with them that they should buy the food and clothing necessary

for their families from herself alone. It is the first record of a

"company store" that I know of. When the castle was finished and the

accounts were balanced it was found that the cost of the labor had been

entirely paid for by the profits of this thrifty woman's mercantile

transactions, with the sum of four pence as a balance to her credit. Her

husband returned in due time and was so delighted with his new home that

he never went to sea again. His estimable wife died in 1689, and was

buried in the churchyard of Team-pulloen-Bryn, where this story is

inscribed with her epitaph.

On Wood's Hill, overlooking the bay, is a handsome estate that once

belonged to Curran, the famous lawyer and orator, whose daughter was

the sweetheart of Robert Emmet, the Irish martyr. Her melancholy romance

is related in Washington Irving's story called "The Broken Heart" and in

one of Tom Moore's ballads.

[Illustration: QUEENSTOWN]

It is 165 miles from Queenstown to Dublin, and the railroad passes

through several of the counties whose names are most familiar to

Americans, for they have furnished the greater portion of our Irish

immigrants--Cork, Limerick, Tipperary, Queens, and Kildare. Most of the

passengers who landed with us took the same train, and they were so many

that they crowded the little railway station to overflowing and created

a scene of lively confusion. Some of them had been met by brothers,

fathers, sweethearts, and friends, who were waiting two hours before

daylight, and the hearty greetings and enthusiasm they showed were

contagious. The sweethearts were easy to identify. The demonstrations of

affection left no doubt, but all the world loves a lover, and we

rejoiced with them. In the long line that stood before the ticket

seller's window at the railway station they chattered unconsciously like

so many sparrows, their arms around each other, with an occasional

embrace, a sly kiss and a slap to pay for it, tender caresses upon the

shoulder or the head, and other expressions of a happiness that could

not have been concealed. The home-bred young men gazed with wonder and

admiration at the finery worn by their sweethearts from America, who, by

the way, although they came third class, and were undoubtedly

chambermaids or shop girls in our cities, were the best-looking and the

best-dressed women we saw in Ireland. The pride of the parents at the

appearance and the manners of their sons or daughters showed that they

appreciated the accomplishments that American experience acquires.

One of the younger passengers, a boy of twenty years, perhaps, told me

that he had come from Ohio to persuade his father to send his two

younger brothers back with him. They live in Tipperary, where "there is

no show for a young man now." Another young man had a tiny American flag

pinned to the lapel of his coat, and when I said, "You show your

colors," the lassie who clung to his arm turned at me with a determined

expression on her face and remarked:

"I'll be takin' that off and pinnin' a piece of green in its place vera

soon."

"No, you don't, darlin'; none o' that," he replied. "I'm an American

citizen, and I don't care who knows it. If you don't want to be one

yourself, I know another girl who does."

The country through which the railway to Dublin runs affords a beautiful

example of Irish scenery. As far as Cork the track follows the bank of

the River Lee, which is inclosed on either side by a high ridge crowned

with stately mansions, glorious trees, and handsome gardens. Several of

the places are historic, and the scenery has been frequently described

in verse by the Irish poets.

Father Prout, a celebrated rhymemaker of Cork, has described one of the

villages as follows:

"The town of Passage is both large and spacious,

And situated upon the say;

'Tis nate and dacent and quite adjacent

To Cork on a summer's day.

There you may slip in and take a dippin'

Foreninst the shippin' that at anchor ride,

Or in a wherry you can cross the ferry

To Carrigaloe on the other side."

We could not see much from the car window, but we saw enough on the

journey to understand why it is called "The Emerald Isle" and why the

Irish people are so enthusiastic over its landscapes. The river is

walled in nearly all the distance to Cork, and there are many factories,

storehouses, and docks on both sides. Quite a fleet of steamers ply

between Queenstown and Cork, and trains on the railroad are running

every hour. Small seagoing vessels can go up as far as Cork, but the

larger ones discharge and receive their cargoes at Queenstown. We

couldn't see much of the towns because the railway tracks are either

elevated so that only the roofs and chimney pots are visible, or else

they are buried between impenetrable walls or pass through tunnels on

either side of the station. But when the train passed out into the open

a succession of most attractive landscapes was spread before us as far

as the horizon on either side, and the fields were alive with bushes of

brilliant orange-colored gorse, or furze, as it is sometimes called.

They lit up the atmosphere as the burning bush of Moses might have done.

Very little of the ground is cultivated. Only here and there is a field

of potatoes and cabbages, but the pastures are filled with fine looking

cattle and sheep, for this is the grazing district of Ireland, from

whence her famous dairy products and the best beef and mutton come.

Beyond Portarlington we got our first glimpses of the bogs, with which

we are told one-sixth of the surface of Ireland is covered, an area of

not less than 2,800,000 acres. Bogs were formerly supposed to be due to

the depravity of the natives, who are too lazy to drain them and have

allowed good land to run to waste and become covered with water and

rotten vegetation, but this theory has been effectively disposed of by

science. Everybody should know that the bogs of Ireland are not only due

to the natural growth of a spongy moss called sphagnum, but furnish an

inexhaustible fuel supply to the people and have a value much greater

than that of the drier and higher land. The report of a "bogs

commission" describes them as "the true gold mines of Ireland," and

estimates them as "infinitely more valuable than an inexhaustible supply

of the precious metal." The average Irish bog will produce 18,231 tons

of peat per acre, which is equivalent to 1,823 tons of coal, thus making

the total supply of peat equivalent to 5,104,000 tons of coal, capable

of producing 300,000 horse power of energy daily for manufacturing

purposes for a period of about four hundred and fifty years. With coal

selling at $2 a ton in Ireland to-day, this makes the bogs of Ireland

worth $10,000,000,000. The "bog trotter" is an individual to be

cultivated, for when our coal deposits in the United States are

exhausted we may have to send over and buy some of his peat for fuel. It

is proposed to utilize these deposits and save transportation charges by

erecting power-houses at the peat beds and furnish electricity over

wires to the neighboring towns and cities for lighting, power, and other

purposes, "for anybody having work to do from curling a lady's hair to

running tramways and driving machinery." The writer refers to recent

installations of electric works in Mysore, India, for working gold

fields ninety miles distant, and quotes the late Lord Kelvin's opinion

that the city of New York will soon be getting its power from Niagara,

four hundred miles away. We saw them digging peat in the fields and

piling it up like damp bricks to dry in the sun. Freshly dug peat

contains about seventy per cent of moisture, but when cured the ratio is

reduced to fifteen or twenty per cent.

A peat bog is not always in a hollow, but often on a hillside, and

sometimes at considerable height, which contradicts the theory that bogs

are due to defective drainage. Science long ago determined that Irish

peat was the accumulation of a peculiar kind of moss which grows like a

coral bank in the damp soil, and continues to pile up in layers year

after year, century after century, until it forms a solid mass, several

feet thick, seventy per cent moisture and thirty per cent fibre, which

burns slowly and furnishes a high degree of heat. We see bogs on all

sides of us where the peat is three and four feet thick, and with a long

straight spade that is as sharp as a knife, it is cut into blocks about

eight or ten inches long and about four inches square. A sharp spade

will slice it just as a knife would cut cheese or butter, and after the

blocks have lain on the ground a while they are stacked up on end in

little piles to dry. Then, when they have been exposed to the weather

for three or four weeks, they are stacked in larger piles, from which

they are carted away and sold or used as they are needed.

[Illustration: THE ROCK OF CASHEL, COUNTY TIPPERARY]

Four tons of peat are equal in caloric energy to one ton of coal. I

noticed in the papers that a bill is pending before the House of Commons

to grant a charter to a company to erect a station in a bog near

Robertson, Kings County, twenty-five miles from Dublin, for generating

electricity from peat, the power to be transmitted to Dublin and the

suburban towns for lighting, transportation, and manufacturing

purposes. Several other projects of a similar sort have been suggested

for utilizing the peat at the bog instead of carting it into town.

Beyond the peat beds rises a chain of low mountains with a curious

profile that runs west of the town of Templemore. Like every other freak

of nature in Ireland, they are the scenes of many interesting legends.

The highest peak is called "The Devil's Bit," and the queer shape is

accounted for by the fact that the Prince of Darkness in a fit of hunger

and fatigue once took a bite out of the mountain, and, not finding it to

his taste, spat it out again some miles to the eastward, where it is now

famous as the Rock of Cashel.

Cashel, at present a miserable, deserted village, was once the rich and

proud capital of Munster. Adjoining the ruins of the cathedral is the

ancient and weather-worn "Cross of Cashel," which was raised upon a rude

pedestal, where the kings of Munster were formerly crowned. The ruins

are more extensive than anywhere else in Ireland, for Cashel at one time

was the ecclesiastical capital of Ireland and its greatest educational

centre. Here the Pope's legates resided and here Henry II., in 1172,

received the homage of the Irish kings. But what gives the place its

greatest sanctity is the fact that St. Patrick spent much time there and

held there the first synod that ever assembled in Ireland, about the

middle of the fifth century. That is supposed to have been the reason

for the erection of so many sacred edifices and monasteries in early

days. St. Declan lived there, too, and commemorated his conversion to

Christianity by the erection of one of the churches. Donald O'Brien,

King of Limerick, erected another, and his son Donough founded an abbey

in 1182. Holy Cross, beautifully situated in a thick grove on the banks

of the River Suir, was built in 1182 for the Cistercian order of monks.

It derived its name because a piece of the true cross, set with precious

stones and presented to a grandson of Brian Boru by Pope Pascal II., was

kept there for centuries, and made the abbey the object of pilgrimages

of the faithful from all parts of Ireland. This precious relic is now

in the Ursuline convent at Cork.

Cashel was destroyed during the civil wars. The famous Gerald

Fitzgerald, the great Earl of Kildare, had a grudge against Archbishop

Cragh and burned the cathedral and the bishop's palace. He excused the

act before the king on the ground that he "believed the archbishop was

in it."

A little beyond Templemore, at Ballybrophy Junction, a branch of the

main line of the railway leads to the town of Birr, which is famous as

the seat of the late Earl of Rosse, whose father erected an observatory

there many years ago, with one of the largest and finest telescopes in

the world. It is twenty-seven feet long, with a lens three feet in

diameter. Some of the most important discoveries of modern astronomy

have been made there, and Birr has been the object of pilgrimages for

scientific men for more than half a century. The old Birr castle has

been much enlarged and modernized by the late earl, who died in

September, 1908, and is surrounded by an estate of thirty-six thousand

acres, upon which is one of the best built and well kept towns in

Ireland. He was a scholar and scientist of reputation, president of the

Royal Irish Academy and the Royal Dublin Society, and interested in

important manufactories and enterprises. He was especially active in

developing the steam turbine.

All of that section of Ireland covered by the journey between Dublin and

Cork is associated with heroic struggles. It has been fought over time

and again by the clans and the factions that have struggled to rule the

state. Every town and every castle has its tragic and romantic history.

Almost every valley is associated with a legend or an important event.

The woods and the hills are still peopled with fairies, and local

traditions among the humble folks are the themes of fascinating tales

and songs. But the natives one sees at the railway stations do not look

at all romantic. A sentimental person is compelled to endure many severe

shocks when he comes in contact with the present generation of Irish

peasants.

[Illustration: HOLYCROSS ABBEY, COUNTY TIPPERARY]

The people of Ireland are more prosperous to-day (July, 1908) than

they have been for generations. Their financial condition is better than

it ever has been, and is improving every year. The bank deposits, the

deposits in postal savings banks, the government returns of the taxable

property, have advanced steadily every year for the last ten years, and

in Ireland, during the last ten years, there has been a gradual and

healthful improvement in every branch of trade and industry. The people

are more prosperous than in England or Scotland, except in certain

sections where poverty is chronic because of climatic reasons and the

barrenness of the soil. Nevertheless, they are not so prosperous as they

ought to be under the circumstances, and it would require a book, and a

large book, to repeat the many theories that are offered to explain the

situation. It is a question upon which very few people agree, and they

probably never will agree. There are almost as many theories as there

are people. Therefore a discussion is not only disagreeable but it would

lead immediately into politics. It is safe to say, however, that every

Irishman who is willing to take a farm and cultivate it with

intelligence and industry will prosper if he will let politics and

whisky alone. Idleness, neglect, intemperance, and other vices produce

the same results in Ireland as elsewhere, and under present conditions

industry and thrift will make any honest farmer prosperous.

The moral and intellectual regeneration of the country is keeping step

with the material regeneration. All religious qualifications and

disqualifications have been removed; the church has been divorced from

the state, and each religious denomination stands upon an equality in

every respect.

The penal laws have been repealed and the tithe system has been

abolished.

Local representative government prevails everywhere.

Nearly every official in Ireland is a native except the lord-lieutenant,

the treasury remembrancer, and several agricultural experts who are

employed as instructors for the farmers and fishermen by the

Agricultural Department, and the Congested Districts Board.

The primary schools of Ireland are now free; free technical schools have

been established at convenient locations for the training of mechanics,

machinists, electricians, engineers, and members of the other trades.

Two new universities have been authorized,--one in the north and the

other in the south of Ireland,--for the higher education of young men

and women.

Temperance reforms are being gradually accomplished by the church and

secular temperance societies, which are working in harmony; the license

law has been amended so as to reduce the number of saloons, and

three-fourths of the saloons are closed on Sunday throughout the island.

The Father Mathew societies are gaining in numbers; the use of liquor at

wakes and on St. Patrick's Day has been prohibited by the Roman Catholic

bishops, and the number of persons arrested for drunkenness and

disorderly conduct is decreasing annually.

Every tenant that has been evicted in Ireland during the last thirty

years has been restored to his old home, and the arrears of rent charged

against him have been canceled.

The land courts have adjusted the rentals of 360,135 farms, and have

reduced them more than $7,500,000 a year.

More than one hundred and twenty-six thousand families have been enabled

to purchase farms with money advanced by the government to be repaid in

sixty-eight years at nominal interest.

Several thousand families have been removed at government expense from

unproductive farms to more fertile lands purchased for them with

government money to be repaid in sixty-eight years.

Thousands of cottages, stables, barns, and other farm buildings have

been built and repaired by the government for the farmers, and many

millions of dollars have been advanced them for the purchase of cattle,

implements, and other equipment through agents of the Agricultural

Department.

More than twenty-three thousand comfortable cottages have been erected

for the laborers of Ireland with money advanced by the government to be

repaid in small instalments at nominal interest.

The landlord system of Ireland is being rapidly abolished; the great

estates are being divided into small farms and sold to the men who till

them. The agricultural lands of Ireland will soon be occupied by a

population of independent farm owners instead of rent-paying tenants.

The Agricultural Department is furnishing practical instructors to teach

the farmers how to make the most profitable use of their land and labor,

how to improve their stock, and how to produce better butter, pork, and

poultry.

The Agricultural Department furnishes seeds and fertilizers to farmers

and instructs them how they should be used to the best advantage.

The Irish Agricultural Organization Society has instructed thousands of

farmers in the science of agriculture and has established thousands of

co-operative dairies and supply stores to assist the farmers in getting

higher prices for their products and lower prices for their supplies.

The Congested Districts Board has expended seventy million dollars to

improve the condition of the peasants in the west of Ireland; to provide

them better homes and to place them where they can get better returns

for their labor.

Thousands of fishermen have been furnished with boats, nets, and other

tackle; they have been supplied with salt for curing their fish; casks

and barrels for packing them; have been provided with wharves for

landing places and warehouses for the storage of their implements and

supplies; and government agents have secured a market for their fish and

have supervised the shipments and sales.

Thousands of weavers have been furnished with looms in their cottages at

government expense, so that they can increase their incomes by

manufacturing home-made stuffs.

Schools have been established at many convenient points in the west of

Ireland, where peasant women and girls may learn lace-making. The

government furnishes the instruction free, supplies the materials used,

and provides for the sale of the articles made.

Work has been furnished with good wages for thousands of unemployed men

in the construction of roads and other public improvements.

District nurses have been stationed at convenient points along the west

coast, where there are no physicians, to attend the sick and aged and

relieve the distress among the peasant families, and hospitals have been

established for the treatment of the ill and injured at government

expense.

II

THE CATHEDRALS AND DEAN SWIFT

St. Patrick's Cathedral is, perhaps, the most notable building in

Ireland, and one of the oldest. During the religious wars and the

clashes of the clans in the early history of Ireland it was the scene

and the cause of much contention and violence. Its sacred walls were

originally arranged as fortifications to defend it against the savage

tribes and to protect the dignitaries of the church, who resided behind

embattled gates for centuries. At one time St. Patrick's was used as a

barrack for soldiers, and the verger will show you an enormous baptismal

font, from which he says the dragoons used to water their horses, and

the interior was fitted up for courts of law. Henry VIII. confiscated

the property and revenues because the members of its chapter refused to

accept the new doctrines, and nearly all of them were banished from

Ireland. He abolished a small university that was attached to the

cathedral by the pope in 1320 for the education of priests. For five

hundred years there was a continuous quarrel between St. Patrick's and

Christ Church Cathedral, which stands only two blocks away, because of

rivalries over ecclesiastical privileges, powers, and revenues. Finally

a compromise was reached, under which there has since been peace between

the two great churches and relations similar to those of Westminster

Abbey and St. Paul's in London. Christ Church is the headquarters of the

episcopal see of Dublin, and St. Patrick's is regarded as a national

church. The chief reason why St. Patrick's has such a hold upon the

affections and reverence of the people is because it stands upon the

site of a small wooden church erected by St. Patrick himself in the year

450 and within a few feet of a sacred spring or well at which he

baptized thousands of pagans during his ministry. The exact site of the

well was identified in 1901 by the discovery of an ancient Celtic cross

buried in the earth a few feet from the tower of the cathedral. The

cross is now exhibited in the north aisle. The floor of the church is

only seven feet above the waters of a subterranean brook called the

Poddle, and during the spring floods is often inundated, but in the

minds of the founders the sanctity of the spot compensated for the

insecure foundations.

St. Patrick's little wooden building, which is supposed to be the first

Christian sanctuary erected in Ireland, was replaced in 1191 by the

present lofty cruciform edifice, three hundred feet long and one hundred

and fifty-seven feet across the transepts. It was designed and erected

by Comyn, the Anglo-Norman archbishop of Dublin, is supposed to have

been completed in 1198, and was raised to the rank of a cathedral in

1219. There were frequent alterations and repairs during the first seven

centuries of its existence, until 1864-68, when it was perfectly

restored by Sir Benjamin Guinness, the great brewer, who also purchased

several blocks of dilapidated slums that surrounded it, tore down the

buildings, and turned the land into a park which not only affords an

opportunity to see the beauties of the cathedral, but gives the poor

people who dwell in that locality a playground and fresh air. Sir

Benjamin purchased several of the adjoining blocks and erected upon them

a series of model tenement-houses, the best in Dublin, and rents them at

nominal rates to his employees and others. On the other side of the

cathedral are several blocks of the most miserable tenements in the

city, and sometime they also will be cleared away. A bronze statue has

been erected in the churchyard as a reminder of his generosity.

[Illustration: ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL, DUBLIN]

Benjamin Guinness was the great brewer of Dublin. In 1756 one of his

ancestors started a little brewing establishment down on the bank of the

Liffey River in the center of the city, which has been extended from

time to time until the buildings now cover an area of more than forty

acres. The property and good will were transferred by the Guinness

family to a stock company for $30,000,000 in 1886, and since then the

plant has been enlarged until it now exceeds in extent all other

breweries in the world, represents an investment of $50,000,000, and

turns out an average of two thousand one hundred barrels of beer a day.

Sir Benjamin's son, Edward Cecil Guinness, was elevated to the peerage

as Lord Iveagh and is the richest man in Ireland to-day. He is highly

respected, has married into the nobility, is a great favorite with the

king, is generous and philanthropic, encourages and patronizes both

science and athletic sports, and is said to be "altogether a very good

fellow." Another son is Lord Ardilaun, who is equally rich and popular,

and owns several of the finest estates in the kingdom.

Sir Benjamin expended $1,200,000 in restoring St. Patrick's Cathedral,

and Lord Iveagh, his son, added $350,000 more. The driver of the

jaunting car that carried us there told me how many billion of glasses

of beer those gifts represented, and made some funny remarks about all

the profit being in the froth. But if all men were to make such good use

of their money there would be no reason to complain.

St. Patrick's Cathedral is the official seat of the Knights of St.

Patrick, and their banners, helmets, and swords hang over the choir

stalls, while in one of the chapels is an ancient table and a set of

ancient chairs formerly used at their gatherings. Since 1869 they have

met at Dublin castle. Many tattered and bullet-riddled battle flags

carried by Irish regiments hang in other parts of the cathedral, and if

they could tell the stories of the many brave Irishmen who have fought

and perished under their silken folds, it would be more thrilling than

fiction. Ireland has furnished the best fighting men in the British

Army, both generals and privates, since the invasion of the Normans. The

king's bodyguard of Highlanders is now almost exclusively composed of

Irish lads. In the north transept is a flag that was carried by an Irish

regiment at the skirmish at Lexington at the beginning of our

Revolution and at the attack on Bunker Hill. They brought it away with

them to hang it here with the trophies of Irish valor of a thousand

years.

St. Patrick's is the Westminster Abbey of Ireland, and many of her most

famous men are either buried within its walls or have tablets erected to

their memory. John Philpott Curran, the great advocate and orator, and

Samuel Lover, the song writer and novelist, whose "Handy Andy" and

"Widow Machree," are perhaps the best examples of Irish humor in

literature, are honored with tablets; and Carolan, the last of the bards

for whom Ireland was once so celebrated. He died in 1788. M.W. Balfe,

author of that pretty little opera, "The Bohemian Girl," and many

beautiful ballads, including "I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls," has a

tablet inscribed with these words:

"The most celebrated, genial and beloved of Irish musicians,

commendatore of Carlos III. of Spain, Chevalier of the Legion of Honor.

Born in Dublin, 15 May, 1808, died 20th of Oct., 1870."

Balfe was born in a small house on Pitt Street, Dublin, which bears a

tablet announcing the fact.

The man who wrote that stirring poem, "The Burial of Sir John Moore,"

which begins,

"Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,

As his corse to the rampart we hurried,"--

lies in St. Patrick's. His name was Charles Wolfe, and he was once the

dean of the cathedral.

In the right-hand corner of the east transept is a monument to the

memory of a certain dame of the time of Elizabeth, named Mrs. St. Leger.

She was thirty-seven years old at the time of her death, and, her

epitaph tells us, had "a strange, eventful history," with four husbands

and eight children, all of whom she made comfortable and happy.

On the other side is a tablet to commemorate the fact that Sir Edward

Fitten, who died in 1579, was married at the age of twelve years and

became the father of fifteen children,--nine sons and six daughters.

The famous Archbishop Whately, the gentleman who wrote the rhetoric we

studied in college, and who once presided over this diocese, is buried

in a stately tomb, and his effigy, beautifully carved in marble, lies

upon it.

The most imposing monument of all, and one which is associated with much

history and tragedy, was erected in honor of his own family by Richard

Boyle, the first Earl of Cork, who was a great man in his day. So

pretentious was the monument that Archbishop Laud ordered it removed

from the cathedral. This was done by Thomas Wentworth, afterward Earl of

Strafford, who was sent over by King Charles with an armed force to

govern Ireland. Boyle, who had himself designed and expended a great

deal of money upon "the famous, sumptuous, and glorious tomb," which was

to immortalize him and sixteen members of his family, was so indignant

that he never forgave Strafford, and afterward caused the latter to be

betrayed to a shameful death at the hands of his enemies.

The most interesting historic relic in the cathedral is an ancient oaken

door with a large hole cut in the center of it. It bears an explanatory

inscription as follows:

"In the year 1492 an angry conference was held at St. Patrick, his

church, between the rival nobles, James Butler, Earl of Ormonde, and

Gerald Fitzgerald, Earl of Kildare, the said deputies, and their armed

retainers. Ormonde, in fear of his life, fled for refuge to the Chapiter

House, and Kildare, pressing Ormonde to the Chapiter House door,

undertooke on his honor that he should receive no villanie. Whereupon

the recluse, craving his lordship's hand to assure him his life, there

was a clift in the Chapiter House door pearced at trice to the end that

both Earls should shake hands and be reconciled. But Ormonde surmising

that the clift was intended for further treacherie refused to stretch

out his hand--" and the inscription goes on to relate that Kildare,

having no such nervousness, thrust his hand through the hole and

without the slightest hesitation. Ormonde shook it heartily and peace

was made.

For centuries it was said that whoever might be Viceroy of Ireland it

was the Earl of Kildare who governed the country. A long line of

Kildares succeeded each other, and their living successor, better known

as the Duke of Leinster, is now the premier of the Irish nobility,

although he is still a boy, just twenty-one. Both the Kildares and the

Earls of Desmond were descended from Gerald Fitzgerald, who in the

thirteenth century founded that powerful clan known as the Geraldines.

In the fifteenth, and at the beginning of the sixteenth, century they

exercised absolute control in Ireland, and Garrett, or Gerald

Fitzgerald, the eighth Earl of Kildare, known as "The Great Earl," had

greater authority than any other Irishman has ever displayed in his

native island since the days of Brian Boru. At one time his daughter,

wife of the Earl of Clanricarde, appealed to her father from a quarrel

with her husband. The old gentleman took her part, ordered out his army,

and met his son-in-law in the battle of Knockdoe, where it is said eight

thousand men were slain.

Near the entrance to St. Patrick's Cathedral is a long, narrow, brass

tablet upon which are inscribed the names of the fifty-seven deans who

have had ecclesiastical jurisdiction there from 1219 to 1902. The most

famous in the list is that of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, D.D., author of

"Gulliver's Travels," "The Tale of a Tub," and other equally well-known

works. He presided here for more than thirty years, and was undoubtedly

the most brilliant as well as the most remarkable clergyman in the

history of the diocese of Dublin. He was the greatest of all satirists,

one of the most brilliant of all wits, and an all-around genius, but was

entirely without moral consciousness, altogether selfish, inordinately

vain, and one of the most eccentric characters in the history of

literature. He was born in Dublin Nov. 30, 1667; educated at Trinity

College, where he distinguished himself only by his eccentricities; was

curate of two churches, and dean of St. Patrick's Cathedral for more

than thirty years, although neither his manners nor his morals

conformed to the standards that are fixed for clergymen in these days.

He was more famous for his wit than his wisdom; for his piquancy than

for piety. He spent most of his life in Dublin, died there, was buried

in St. Patrick's Cathedral by the side of a woman whose life he wrecked,

and left his money to found an insane asylum which is still in

existence.

The house in which Jonathan Swift was born can still be seen in Hoey's

Court, which once was a popular place of residence for well-to-do

people, and has several mansions of architectural pretensions, but has

degenerated into a slum, one of the many that may be found in the very

center of the business section of the city. He came of a good Yorkshire

family; his mother had aristocratic connections and was one of those

women who seem to have been born to suffer from the failings of men. His

father was a shiftless adventurer, following several professions and

occupations in turn without even ordinary success in any. Jonathan went

to the parish schools in Kilkenny for a time when his father happened to

be living in that locality, and when he was seventeen years old passed

the entrance examinations to Trinity College, Dublin. He was a willful,

independent, eccentric person, of a lonely and sour disposition, and

refused to be bound by the rules of the university. He would not study

mathematics or physics, but delighted in classical literature, and

furnished many witty contributions to college literature which gave

promise of genius. He wrote a play that was performed by the college

students with great success. His degree was reluctantly conferred by the

faculty through the influence of Sir William Temple, a famous statesman

of those days, whose wife was a distant relative of Swift's mother.

Shortly after graduation he became private secretary to Sir William

Temple and attended him in London during several sessions of parliament.

While there, under some influence that has never been explained in a

satisfactory manner, Swift decided to enter the ministry, and took a

course of theology at Oxford. After his ordination in 1695 Sir William

Temple got him a living in a quiet, secluded village called Laracor, in

central Ireland, near Tara, the ancient capital, in a church that long

ago crumbled to ruins and has been replaced by a modern building. It was

a small parish consisting of not more than ten or twelve aristocratic

families, among them the ancestors of the great Duke of Wellington. The

young curate's congregation was not very regular in its attendance, and

you will remember, perhaps, an amusing story, how the Rev. Mr. Swift,

when he came from the vestry one Sabbath morning, found no one but the

sexton, Roger Morris, in the pews. He read the service, as usual,

however, and with that quaint sense of humor which cropped out in

everything he did, began solemnly:

"Dearly beloved Roger, the Scripture moveth us in sundry places," etc.

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