Now where Langness runs its long nose into the sea, and on a place
now always covered by the waves, there was once a fine city with
many towers and gilded domes. Great ships went sailing from its port
to all parts of the world, and round it were well-grassed lands with
cattle and sheep. Even now sailors sometimes see it through the clear,
deep waters, and hear dimly the bleating of sheep, the barking of
dogs, and the muffled chiming of bells--'Nane, jees, three, kiare,
queig.' But no man can walk its streets.
For once upon a time, in the days when there were giants in the Isle
of Mann, Finn Mac Cool had his home near this city. He lived at the
Sound to keep his eye on Erinn, and to watch the sea. But he was
very seldom in Mann, and wherever he was he was always doing some
mischief, so that his enemies were many. One day he was in such a
hurry to reach his home that he jumped from Erinn and landed in
the island on the rocks above the Sound. He came down with such
force that he left his footmarks in the hard stone, and the place
has been called ever since, Slieu ynnyd ny Cassyn, or the Mountain
of the place of the Feet. His first act when he reached home was to
get in a red rage with the people of the city close by; his next act
was to turn them all into blocks of granite. In his passion he struck
the ground so hard with his club that he made a great dent in it--the
waves rushed into the deep hollow and the roaring sea drowned the din
of the city. Its towers and domes were covered by the green water;
its streets and market-place, its harbour and its crowded quays,
disappeared from sight. And there it lies to this day.
But there is a strange story told of a man that went down to it more
than two hundred years ago. A ship was searching for sunken treasure
in those parts and this man was let down to the bottom of the sea
in a kind of ancient diving bell. He was to pull the rope when he
wished to be let down further. He pulled and pulled till the men
on the ship knew that he was as deep down in the sea as the moon is
high up in the sky; then there was no more rope and they had to draw
him up again. When he was on deck he told them that if he could have
gone further he would have made the most wonderful discoveries. They
begged him to tell them what he had seen, and when he had drunk a
cup of wine he told his story.
First he had passed through the waters in which the fishes live;
then he came into the clear and peaceful region where storms never
come, and saw the bottom of the World-under-Sea shining with coral
and bright pebbles. When the diving bell rested on the ground he
looked through its little windows and saw great streets decorated with
pillars of crystal glittering like diamonds, and beautiful buildings
made of mother-of-pearl, with shells of every colour set in it. He
longed to go into one of these fine houses, but he could not leave
his diving bell, or he would have been drowned. He managed to move
it close to the entrance of a great hall, with a floor of pearls and
rubies and all sorts of precious stones, and with a table and chair
of amber. The walls were of jasper, and strings of lovely jewels were
hanging on them. The man wished to carry some away with him, but he
could not reach them--the rope was at an end. As he rose up again
towards the air he met many handsome Mermen and beautiful Mermaids,
but they were afraid of him, and swam away as fast as they could.
That was the end of the man's story. After that he grew so sad with
longing to go back to the World-under-Sea and stay there for ever,
that he cared for nothing on earth, and soon died of grief.