><•' ' CO ^lUBRARYQr, -?: ^j Dr. Kuno Meyer, vol. i., p. 10, verses 17, 18, and p. 39, note 17. THE LIA FAIL OR CORONATION STONE. 65 If we are to . believe the testimony of certain Scottish writers, this famous stone, after having been removed from Ireland, made a great figure in later ages in Scotland and England, But the story of its removal has been examined by Dr. Petrie, who shows that it is flatly contradicted by native Irish authorities ; that it is nothing better than a fabrica- tion ; and that the Lia Fail was never removed from Tara at all. It is a historical fact accepted on all hands that in the year of our Lord 503 and the following years the western part of Scotland was conquered by a colony of Irishmen, or Scots as they were then called, from the territory of Dalriada in the north of Antrim, led by Fergus, Angus, and Lome, the sons of a chief named Ere. So far we have true history. But the Scottish narrative tells us that Fergus caused the Lia Fail to be brought over to Alban (Scotland), with the consent of the king of Ireland, and had himself crowned on it. For there was — the story goes on to say — an ancient prophecy, that into whatsoever land the Lia Fail was brought, there a prince of the Scotic or Irish race should reign. This prophecy is given by the Scottish writer, Hecto r Boece, in a Latin couplet :— Ni fallat fatum, Scoti qiiotcunque locatum Invenient lapidem regnare tenenter ibidem ; the sense of which is conveyed well enough in the following translation : — If fate tells truth, where'er this stone ia found, A prince of Scotic race shall there be crowned. And on account of this prophecy it is said to have 66 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. received the name of " Lia Fail," which, according to these authorities, means the " Stone of Destiny"; but the word Fal, when examined critically, Avill bear no such interpretation. Fergus's reason, then, for having himself crowned on the stone, was, in order that the prophecy might be fulfilled, and that his claim to the new kingdom might be acknowledged without dispute. For the Scottish people were merely a branch of the Irish, and had the same superstitions and legends. It remained in Alban and was kept at Scone till the thirteenth century, when Edward I. took it by force and brought it away to England, where it now lies under the seat of the coronation chair in Westminster. That the stone now in Westminster was brought by Edward from Scone, the ancient capital of the kingdom of Alban, where it had been used as a coronation stone by the Alban Scots — of all this there can be no question ; and so far, Mr. Skene, the latest and best and most clear-headed writer on Scottish history, traces it, but no farther. But that the coronation stone of Scone is not the Lia Fail will appear quite plain from a short examination of authorities. The story of the removal of the Lia Fail to Scotland rests entirely on the authority of the Scottish historians. The oldest Scottish document to which it can be traced is the Khythmical Chronicle, written it is believed at the close of the thirteenth century, from which it was borrowed later on by the two Scottish writers, John of Fordun and Hector Boece, and incorporated by both in their THE LIA FAIL OR CORONATION STONE. 67 clirouicles — those chronicles which are now univer- sally rejected as fable. Our own countryman Geoffrey Keating, writing his history of Ireland in the seventeenth century, adopted the story after Boece (whom he gives as his authority for the prophecy) ; and it has been repeated by most other writers of Irish history since his time. But in no Irish authority before the time of Keating is there any mention either of the removal of the stone, or of the prophecy concerning it. If Keating had found either or both in any old Irish authority he would have been only too glad to mention so. Why it was that this fable was invented, and why Keating adopted it, though he found it in none of his own native authorities — the motive of all this is plain enough. It was about the time when the Rhythmical Chronicle was put together that the dispute began touching the respective claims of the Scottish and English kings to the throne of Scotland, in which figure the great names of Wallace and Bruce ; and the old Scottish writers invented the story about the removal of the Lia Fail and the prophecy concerning it, in order to strengthen the claim of the Scottish kings, all of whom had been crowned on the Scone stone, which according to this invented account was the Lia Fail itself. For a like reason, Keating and other Irish writers eagerly caught up the same story, since according to their ideas it proved the right of their favourite monarchs, the Stuarts, to the throne — the Stuarts being descended from the Irish kings. Indeed Keating says what amounts to this when he affirms that " the prophecy of the stone has been fulfilled t 2 68 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. in our present King Charles and in his father James who both descend from the race of the Scots, since they were crowned kings of England [at Westminster] on the aforesaid stone." But we have decisive evidence that the Lia Fail was in Tara four centuries after the time of its alleged removal by Fergus. Tara was abandoned as a royal residence in the sixth century ; and after some time fell gradually into decay. In the tenth century and early in the eleventh, certain Irish antiquaries visited the place in its ruin, and having examined it very minutely — as antiquaries of the present day are wont to examine historic sites — wrote detailed descriptions of its several ancient monuments as they found them, which descriptions are preserved in some of our very old manuscripts to this day. Not a word have they about the removal of the Lia Fail ; but on the contrary they distinctly affirm that it was then in Tara, and that they them- selves saw it, among many other ancient monuments. The distinguished poet and scholar, Kineth O'Har- tigan, who died in the year 975, visited Tara with the object of describing it. After mentioning in detail the several monuments, he states that he was actually standing on the Lia Fail : — The stone which is under my two feet, Frotn it is called Inis Fail ;* Between two strands of strong tide, The Plain of Fal (as a name) for all Erin. * Fdl was the proper name of the stone of which tlie genitive form is Fail as it appears in " Lia Fail." The word lia means a stone, and lia Fail is literally the " stone of Fdl." THE LIA FAIL OR CORONATION STONE. 69 Cuan O'Lochan, another writer equally distin- guished, who was Arch-Poet of Erin and died in 1024, has left a poem in which he describes with great minuteness the positions of the various objects of interest at Tara. It is worth mentioning here that O'Lochan's description is so detailed and correct, that Petrie and O'Donovan when they examined Tara sixty or seventy years ago, with the poem in their hands (aided by O'Hartigan's previous description) were readily able to recognise nearly all the monu-^ ments pointed out by the Arch-Poet. In one passage he correctly states that the Rath of the Synods (one of the forts at Tara) lay to the north of the Lia Fail : — The Rath of the Synods of great powers, [Lies] to the north of the Fal of Tara. And a prose account which follows the poem is even more circumstantial : — " Fal lies by the side of the Mound of Hostages'" to the north, i.e. the stone that roared under the feet of each king that took possession of the throne of Ireland." So far we have mainly followed Dr. Petrie's reasoning and deductions (in his Essay on Tara) which are incontrovertible. But he goes farther. There is now a tall pillar-stone, 6 feet over ground, standing on the mound called the Forradh [forra] where it was placed by the people about 1821, to mark the grave of some rebels killed there in 1798 : * The features mentioned here as well as all the others that have heen identified may be seen on the map of Tara in my Smaller Social History of Ancient Ireland. 70 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. and Petrie asserts that this was brought from the Mound of Hostages (where the old writers place the Lia Fail) and that it is the Lia Fail itself. Here we cannot go with him. For in the first place the identification of the real old Lia Fail with the present pillar-stone is quite unsatisfactory and unconvincing. Fifty years ago I had a talk with one of the men who helped in the removal, and I have good reason to believe that the pillar-stone now on the Forradh was brought by the people in 1821, not (as Petrie states, writing many years after 1821) from the Mound of Hostages which lies about 50 yards off, but from the bottom of the trench surrounding the Forradh itself, where it had been lying prostrate for generations. In the second place the coronation stones used so generally by the Gaelic tribes all over Ireland and Scotland, were comparatively small and portable, like that now under the Coronation chair at West- minster which is a flag 25 inches by 15 inches by 9 inches thick. But the present pillar-stone at Tara is 12 feet long by nearly 2 feet in diameter. It would be very unsuitable for standing on during the ceremouies of installation and coronation ; and seeing that the stone weighs considerably more than a ton, it would be impracticable to bring it about, as the legends say the Dedaniians carried their Lia Fail in their overland journeys in Scandinavia, Scotland, and Ireland, and in their over-sea voyages in their hide-covered wicker boats. For even legends are consistent when dealing with ordinary everyday matters of common sense. No legend could be wild enough to tell us that the Dedaunans brought with THE LIA FAIL OR CORONATION STONE. 71 them in their wanderings, lasting for generations, the massive stone now standing on the Forradh. The following conclusions drawn from the preced- ing statement are I think indisputable : — 1. The stone now under the Coronation chair at Westminster is the very one brought from Scone in the thirteenth century, but it is not the Lia Fail. 2. The present massive pillar-stone on the Forradh in Tara is not the Lia Fail. 3. The Lia Fail was never brought away from Ireland, but remains still in Tara, buried and hidden somewhere in the soil ; probably in the position where the old writers place it, on the north side of the Mound of Hostages. Giraldus Cambrensis and the Kongs Skuggio relate some other Irish wonders ; but I will pass them over as they are of no great consequence ; and the reader will probably think with me that we have had enough of wonders for the present. 72 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. SPENSER'S IRISH RIVERS* In the year 1580, when Edmund Spenser was in the twenty-seventh year of his age, he came to Ireland as secretary to Baron Grey of Wilton, the newly-appointed Lord Deputy. On the recall of the Lord Deputy in 1582, Spenser returned with him to England, and soon afterwards he received a grant of three thousand acres of land in the County of Cork, a portion of the confiscated estates of the Earl of Desmond. He proceeded again to Ireland in 1586 to live on his estate, and selected for his residence the Castle of Kilcolman, one of Desmond's strong- holds, whose ruins are still to be seen two miles from Battevant and the same distance from Doneraile. It was about the time of his first visit to Ireland that Spenser began his Faerie Queene ; and several books of the poem were composed during his resi- dence at Kilcolman. That he studied the topography and social history of his adopted country, is suffi- ciently proved by his essay, A View of the State of Ireland : while his poetry equally shows that his imagination had become deeply impressed with the quiet beauty of its scenery, and with its quaint and graceful local legends. Its sparkling rivers seem to have been his special delight ; he recurs to them again and again Avith a pleasure as fresh and bright * Kepiinted from " Fraser's Magazine " of many years ago, Ly permission of Messrs. Longmans, Green, & Co., London. Spenser's irish rivers. 73 as the streams themselves, and they form the bases of some of his most beautiful similes and allegories. There are in his poems three passages of special interest, in which Irish rivers are prominently men- tioned. The first is ' The Marriage of the Thames and Medway,' in the eleventh canto of the fourth book of the Faerie Qneene ; the second occurs in the first of TiL-Q Cantos of Mutabilitie ; and the third in Colin Clouts come home againe. The spousals of the Thames and Medway took place in the house of Proteus ; and the poet relates that all the sea and river gods were invited to the bridal feast. First came the continental rivers of the whole world, famous either for size or for historical associations ; next the English rivers ; and lastly those of Ireland, The following is the passage in which the Irish rivers are I'ecounted : — Ne thence the Iiishe Rivers absent ■vrere ; Sith no lesse famous then the rest they ])ee, And ioyne in neighbourhood of kingdome nere. Why should they not likewise in love agree, And ioy likewise this solemne day to see ? They saw it all, and present were in place ; Though I them all, according their degree. Cannot recount, nor tell their hidden race, Nor read the salvage countries thorough which they pace. There was the Liffy rolling downe the lea ; The sandy Slane ; the stony Aubrian ; The spacious Shenan spreading like a sea ; Tlie pleasant Boyne; the fishy fruitful! Ban ; Swift Awniduff which of the English man Is cal'de Blacke-water ; and the Liffur deep ; Sad Trowis that once his people over-ran ; Strong Alio tombling fioin Slewlogher steej) ; And MuUa mine whose waves I whilom taught to weep. 74 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. And there the three renowmed Brethren were "Which that great gyant Blomius begot Of the faire nimph Eheiisa wandring there : One day, as she to shuniie the season whot Under Slewbloome in shady grove was got, This gyant found her . . . : she in time forth broughl These three faire sons which being thenceforth powrd, In three great rivers ran, and many countries scowrd. The first the gentle Shure that, making way By sweet Clonmell, adornes lich "Waterford ; The next the stnbborne Newre whose waters gray By faire Kilkenny and Rosseponte boord ; The third the goodly Barow which doth hoord Great heaps of salmons in his deepe bosome ; All which, long sundred, doe at last accord To ioyne in one ere to the sea they come ; So flowing all from one, all one at last become. There also was the wide embayed Mayre ; The pleasant Bandon crownd with many a wocd ; The spreading Lee that like an island fayre Encloseth Corke with his divided flood ; And balefuU Oure late staind with English blood ; With many more whose names no tongue can tell. All which that day in order seemly good Did on the Thames attend and waited well To doe their dueful service, as to them befell.* Of several of the rivers in this enumeration it is unnecessary to speak at any length, for there could be no mistake about their identification, ^nd they are too well known to need description. Only it ought to be remarked how agreeably the poet relieves the dryness of a mere catalogue by his happy selection of short descriptive epithets, which exhibit such a variety that no two of them are alike, and * Faerie Qtieene, b. iv. c. xi. i J Spenser's irish rivers. 76 which describe the several streams with great force and truthfulness. But as regards others of them, editors and readers who have considered the subject have been in un- certainty or error from Spenser's day to our own ; and there are a few which none of the editors of Spenser's works have even attempted to identify. The manner in which the Liffey is characterised — "rolling downe the lea" — is extremely just and natural ; for this river, after bursting from the high lands of Wicklow through the haunted gorge of Pollaphuca, flows for more than half its course through the levellest lea land in all Ireland, the plains of Kildare, where its banks are a continued succession of verdant meadows and smiling pasture- lands. This was the old plain of Moy-Life, cele- brated in ancient Irish writings, whose name is now remembered only in connection with the river — the Aven-Liffey or Anna-Liffey as it used to be called in times not very long past — that is, " the river {aven) of the plain of Life." In "The sandy Slane" the poet touches off the most obvious feature of the river Slaney. Geologists tell us that the bed of the river was once a fiord, when the sea was higher than it is now — long before the Milesian Celt contended with Anglo-Norman, Dane, or magic-skilled Dedannan ; and during this primeval period the tide deposited at the bottom of the long valley great beds of sand and gravel, through which, when the sea retired to its present level, the stream cut its channel. The river is characteristically sandy in its whole length : from Stratford-on-Slaney to Wexford town there is scarce 76 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. a rock sufficient to raise a ripple ; its fords are all along formed of sand and gravel ; and it flows into the sea below Wexford through a wide waste of sand. Passing by for the present " the stony Aubrian " — farther on I shall have a word to say about it — we may just glance at the Shannon, the Boyne, and the Bann. Spenser's way of designating the first — The spacious Shenan spreading like a sea — pictures this great river very vividly to the mind of the reader ; for during its passage from Lugnashinna, its source near Quilca Mountain in Cavan, to Limerick city, it expands into three great lakes, or inland seas as they may be called, besides several smaller ones ; and below Limerick it opens out into a noble estuary fifty miles long, and so broad that the farther shores often become lost on the horizon. The banks of " The pleasant Boyne," from its source in Trinity Well at the ruined Castle of Carbury in Kildare, to Maiden Tower below Drogheda, present a succession of lovely quiet pastoral land- scapes, not surpassed by any other river in Ireland. He is equally correct in " The fishy fruitfull Ban," for this river has always been noted for the abun- dance and excellence of its trout and salmon. Toome where it issues from Lough Neagh, and Portna near the village of Kilrea, are to this day the delight of trout anglers ; and the great salmon fishery at the old waterfall of Eas-Creeva at Coleraine is one of the most productive anywhere to be found. I shall defer for the present the consideration of two important rivers, the Awniduff and the Alio, and take up both together a little farther on (p. 80). Spenser's irish rivers. 77 The "Lififar deep" is the Foyle at Lifford m Donegal. It is often called Lifiar or Lifter by early Anglo-Irish writers, as by Gough and Camden, and by Spenser himself in his View of the State of Ireland : — "Another (garrison) would I put at Castle-Liffer or thereabouts, so as they should have all the passages upon the river to Logh Foyle " (p. 158, ed. 1809). The town of Lifford took its name from the river, a circumstance very usual in Ireland ; for in this manner Dublin, Limerick, Galway, Sligo, and many other towns received their names. It may be remarked that this old Anglo- Irish name Liffer represents very correctly the pro- nunciation of the native name Leithhhearr ; and that the insertion of the d at the end belongs to a class of verbal corruptions very common in anglicised Irish names.* " Sad Trowis that once his people over-ran " is the short river Drowes flowing from Lough Melvin between the counties of Donegal and Leitrim into Donegal Bay, which was commonly called Trowis in Spenser's time. This stream is very often mentioned in old Irish records ; for from the earliest period of history and legend to the present day, it has con- tinued to be the boundary line between the two provinces of Ulster and Connaught ; and it is no doubt its historical and legendary notoriety that procured for it a place in Spenser's catalogue; for otherwise it is an unimportant stream. * Viz. the addition of d after words ending in /, n, and r. See this fully explai;icd und illustrated in the author's Origin and Hislory of Irish Names of Places, vol. i, chap. iii. 78 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. In the words " that once his people over-ran " the poet aUudes to an ancient legend accounting for the origin of Lough Melvin, that at a very remote period the river overflowed the land and turned the valley into a lake. This legend is recorded by several of our old Irish writers, among others by the Four Masters, who relate that a certain king of Ireland named Melga who reigned many centuries before the Christian era, was slain in battle ; that when his soldiers were digging his grave the waters burst forth from it and overwhelmed both the land and the people ; and that the lake formed by this fatal inun- dation was called by the name Lough Melga, in memory of the king.* Legends like this are told in connexion with most of the large lakes of Ireland, and some of them have held their ground for a very long time indeed ; they are mixed up with the earliest traditions of the country, and not a few of them are current among the peasantry to this day. Giraldus Cambrensis, writing in the twelfth century, records a legend of this kind regarding Lough Neagh ; and this story is also found in some of the oldest of the native Irish writings, from which indeed Giraldus borrowed it, though he added a few characteristic touches of his own. He mentions, moreover, what the people will tell you to this day, that the fishermen sometimes see the lofty Sbud slender: ecclesiastico' turresov " Christian round towers," remains of the ancient submerged city * The old Irish form of the naiiie is Loch-Meilghe, which has been corrupted to Lough Melvin by the English-speaking people. Lough Melvin lies four milea south of Ballyshannon in Donegal. SPENSER S lEISH RIVERS. 79 beneath its waters, a belief which Moore has embalmed in the welLkuown lines : — On Lough Neagh's banks as the fisherman strays, When the clear cold eve's declining. He sees the round towers of other days In the wave beneath him shining. Before parting with this little stream I wish to make an observation on the word " sad," by which it is designated in the present passage. The reader cannot help observing that the poet's fancy is ever ready to seize on any correspondence — whether real or imaginary— between the names and the charac- teristic features of the several streams in his catalogue; and this conceit he often embodies in some happy descriptive epithet. I shall have occasion to notice this peculiarity farther on. But with respect to the name Trowis, it is clear that the poet thought it was an anghcised form of an Irish word of similar sound, which signifies sorrow or sadness ;'■= and once his fancy * Irish truaghas (pronounced trooas), sadness, wretchedness, from truagh (troo) sad. The poet's fancy is not correct, for the ancient name of the river is not Truaghas but Drobhaois (pronounced drowish) a very different word. Spenser was accustomed to get Irish words and phrases translated for him by those of his Irish acquaintances who could speak English. There is abundant evidence of this in various parts of his View of the Slate of Ireland in which he gives the equivalent of many Irish terms ; and in one place he expressly says : " I have caused divers of them (Irish poems) to be translated unto me that I might understand them . . . ." It must have been some of his Irish friends that attempted to explain Trowis for the poet by identifying it with truaghas, sadness ; for the peasantry, even to this day, as I know well, are very fond of this kind of speculative etymology. 80 THE WONDEES OF IRELAND. had caught up this interpretation he connected the name with the event ; so that supposing him right in his conjecture, his "saJTrowis," in the present pass- age would be quite as appropriate as ^^ false Bregoge " ia Colin Clouts come home afjaine (see below). As for " Mulla mine whose waves I whilom taught to weep," it is enough for the present to point out that it is the little river properly called the Awbeg, flowing near Spenser's own residence of Kilcolman and falling into the Blackwater ; but I shall have more to say of it in connexion with others of Spenser's rivers. I will now consider the two rivers, " Swift Awniduft' which of the English man is cal'de Blacke- water," and " Strong Alio tombling from Slewlogher steep." The former (" Swift Awniduff ") has been wrongly set down as the Munster Blackwater, whereas it is really the northern Blackwater, flowing between the counties of Armagh and Derry, and falling into the south- west corner of Lough Neagh ; and the latter (" Strong Alio ") has been taken to mean the little stream now called the Alio or Allow, flowing into the Blackwater near Kanturk in the county of Cork, though Spenser really intended it for the great Blackwater itself. Dr. Smith, a very careful writer, who published his History of Cork about the year 1750, was the first, so far as I know, to discuss those rivers mentioned by Spenser; and he identifies " Strong Alio" with the present river Alio, and the Awniduff with the Munster Blackwater. He is followed by Crofton Croker in his Besearches in the South of Ireland. In Todd's edition of Spenser the error is repeated ; but Todd received his information from Joseph Cooper Spenser's Irish rivers. 81 Walker author of The History of Irish Bards, who merely copied Smith without adding anything of his own. And all other writers who have written on the subject from Smith's time to the present have followed him in his error, with the single exception of the Eev. C. B. Gibson, who at page 300, vol. i. of his History of Cork, places the Awniduff correctly, though without giving any proof of the correctness of his identification. The Munster Blackwater was never called by the name of Awniduff or Avonduff, or Avondhu as some of our present-day writers put it (all meaning " black- river"). Its Irish name is Avonmore (great river) as we find it in all native authorities ancient and modern ; and this is the name in universal use in the spoken Irish language of the present day. The modern English name Blackwater therefore is not a translation, but a new name given by English-speaking- people ; and it is an appropriate one, for the river is very dark in the early part of its course, partly from the peat bogs of Slieve Lougher, and partly on account of the Duhallow coal district through which it flows. But it will be of consequence to remark that the English name in general use in Spenser's time was Broadwater, which is a sufficiently correct trans- lation of "Avonmore." For example Gerard Boate who wrote his Natural History of Ireland about the middle of the 17th century, has : " The two chief rivers of Munster are Sure and Broadwater, the city of Waterford being situated on the first . . . the other (Broadwater) passeth by Lismore and o 82 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. falleth into the sea by Youghal."* It is also called Broad-water in Norden's map of Ireland, compiled about 1610 ; and in a charter of James I. the two English names are used — " the river Blaclnvater called otherwise Broadwater." The poet tells us that " strong Alio " flows from Slewlogher, or Slieve Lougher, a wild moorland district lying east of Castle Island in Kerry, which was very much celebrated in ancient Irish writings. This circumstance alone is sufficient to prove that he is speaking of the Blackwater under the name of Alio ; for the Blackwater flows directly from Slieve Lougher, rising about five miles above King Wiliiams- town, and running first southward and then east- ward towards Mallow. On the other hand the little river now known by the name of Alio is not more than seventeen miles in its whole length ; and to say nothing of the inappropriateuess of the term " strong " for such an insignificant stream, it does not flow from or near Slieve Lougher, but on the contrary it is in every part of its course more than twelve miles distant from the nearest part of that mountain. Dr. Smith was so puzzled at Spenser's "strong Alio tombling from Slewlogher steep " that he was forced to conclude that the poet confounded the rivers Alio and Blackwater. It would be strange indeed if Spenser who knew so well and designated with such precision the features of the other chief streams of Ireland, should confound two rivers in the immediate neighbourhood of his own residence ; one * Page 37, ed, 1726. Spenser's irish rivers. 83 of them moreover being a mere rivulet, and the other a stream of the first magnitude — for Ireland, Spenser did not however as he has done elsewhere, borrow or invent this name for the river ; for it will appear that the Blackwater, or at least a part of it, was at one time known by the name of Alio ; and Dr. John O'Donovan came to this conclusion on testimony altogether independent of Spenser ; for he does not appear to have been aware of Spenser's designation, or indeed to have considered the subject of Spenser's rivers at all. What led O'Donovan to this opinion was his examination of the name of MalloAv, noAV a well-known town on the Blackwater, which is called in Irish Moy-Allo — that is, the plain or field of the (river) Alio. Now this place could not possibly have got its name from the present river Alio, for it is situated at a point which is fully eleven miles below the junction of this river with the Black- water. Accordingly O'Donovan writes : " From this name (Moy-Allo or Mallow) it is evident that the name Alio was anciently applied to that part of the Blackwater lying between Kanturk, where the modern Alio ends, and the town of Mallow.'"'' Had this passage of Spenser come under his observation, he would no doubt have quoted it in further proof of his opinion. Whether the name Alio was anciently applied to that part only of the Blackwater lying between Kanturk and Mallow (or rather Bridgetown, where the Mulla joins), or to a longer portion, or to the whole, I have met with no evidence to show. But to put the matter beyond all dispute, we shall * Annals 0/ the Four Masters^ vol. vi., p. 2080. 84 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. bring up Spenser himself as a witness to tell us what he means. In Colin Clouts come home againe he relates how old Father Mole''' did not wish his daughter (the river) Mulla to wed (the river) Bregog, but, Meaning her much better to preferre, Did tliink to match her with the neighhoiir flood Which Alio bight, Broadwater called farre ; by which the poet means that the river which was locally known by the name Alio was that called Broadwater by people living at a distance ; which decides without any manner of doubt that by " strong Alio " he meant the Broadwater or Blackwater. If anyone should inquire how it came to pass that the little river Alio, and the Blackwater into whicli it falls, were called by the same name, I will observe that a river sometimes gives its name to a tributary, the principal river often losing the name, which becomes perpetuated in the minor stream. For instance, the river Foyle, flowing by the city of Derry, was in old times called the Mourne, a name which is now applied to one of its branches, viz. that flowing by Lifford ; while the present name Foyle was bor- rowed from Lough Foyle, the arm of the sea into which the river flows. There is another example near Dublin which has hitherto escaped notice. The Dodder is a small mountain river flowing through the valley of Glen- nasmole south of Dublin and falling into the Liffey at Kingsend. Its usual Irish name was Dothar,] * See p. 95 farther on. t The most ancient form was Dothra ; but in later Irish, and among the people, the river Nvas ahva3s called Bolhar. % Spenser's irish rivers. 85 which is pronounced Dohei- ; for the t is aspirated, as Irish grammarians say, the aspiration being indicated by the letter h ; and an aspirated t (i.e. th) sounds in Irish like h alone, so that if the name had been correctly anglicised according to pronunciation, the river would now be called Doher. But in the neigh- bourhood of Dublin the people had a curious fashion when anglicising Irish names, of restoring the primitive sounds of aspirated letters,* and in this manner the river came to be called Dodder instead of Doher. Yet for all that the old name is still preserved ; but it is now applied to a small stream coming down from the adjacent hills, which, after turning a number of mills in a pretty valley, joins the Dodder at Rathfarnham, and is well known by the name of Doher or Owen-Doher. Other instances of this sort of transfer might be cited if it were necessary, and I might point to some examples among English rivers also. After what has been said it will not be necessary to dwell farther on Spenser's "Awniduff,'' for the reader will only have to attend to the order in which the rivers are named to be convinced that the Awniduff is intended for the Ulster Blackwater. Beginning at the Liffey, the poet proceeds south and west till he reaches the Shannon ; starting next from the Boyne, he goes north and west, naming the rivers in the exact order of position— Boyne, Ban, * So bothar (pronounced boher) a road, came to hi; called hotter, hooter, or batter, as in Slonybatter in Dublin (stony road) ; and in Booterstown near Kingstown, i.e. load-town. See the author's Origin and Ilistorij of Irish Names of Places, vol. i., p. AG. 86 THE WONDKRS OF IRELAND. Awnidufif (or Blackwater), Liflfar (or Foyle), and Trowis, — curiously enough omitting the Erne : he then returns southwards, and finishes off the stanza with his own two rivers — Strong Alio tonibling from Slewlogher steep, And Miilla mine whose waves I whilom taught to weep. " The three renowmed brethren " are the Suir, the Nore, and the Barrow, which the poet describes with more detail in next stanza. It is curious that he personifies them as three brethren, and calls them farther on " three faire sons " ; whereas by other early English writers, as by Cambrensis, Camden, &c., they are called " the Three Sisters." The poet makes them all rise in the Slieve Bloom Mountains, which is not correct. The Barrow flows from Slieve Bloom, but the Nore and the Suir take their rise among the Devil's Bit range south-west of Roscrea, their sources being within two miles of each other, and about twenty four miles south-west from the source of the Barrow. This error was committed by Giraldus Cambrensis long before him, and is very excusable ; for the Devil's Bit mountains may be considered as a continuation southward of the Slieve Bloom range, and were very probably so considered by both Giraldus and Spenser. The three rivers, after being " long sundred, do at last accord to ioyne in one," in the long valley extending from New Ross to Waterford harbour, which was in old times called C nmar-na-dtri-nuisce (pronounced Cummer-na-dree-nish-ka), the valley of the three waters. The Barrow is, as he truly states, one of the great Spenser's irish rivers. 87 salmon rivers of Ireland. The Nore hoonh or flows " by faire Kilkenny and Rosseponte," this last place being New Ross in Wexford, which is situated not exactly on the Nore but at a point nearly two miles below the junction of the Nore with the Barrow. This town was of much more account in old times than it is now ; and to distinguish it from Old Ross four miles east of it, and from Ross Ibercan or Rosbercon at the Kilkenny side of the river, it was called Rosseponte or Ross of the Bridge, from a wooden bridge across the Barrow, which in those times was considered a very remarkable structure. All this will be made plain by the following words from Richard Stanihurst : This towne was no more fanioused for these wals than for a notable wooden bridge that stretched from tlie towne unto thu other side of the water. Diverse of the poales, logs, and stakes, with which the bridge was underpropt, sticke to this day in tlie water. . . . This Rosse is called Rosse Nova (New Ross), or Rosse Ponti, by reason of their biidge.* Spenser makes these three rivers the offspring of the great giant Blomius and the nymph Rheiisa ; the former being the impersonation of Slieve Bloom, and the latter of the rain falling on the mountains ; for Rheiisa means " flowing water," being nothing more than rheousa, the feminine participle of the Greek verb rheo, to flow. In Ireland the historical or legendary personages connected with hills or other features are often magnified tlirough the mists of centuries into giants or supernatural beings; and in this manner it has Description of Ireland, chap. iii. 88 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. come to pass that a great many of the hills in every part of the country have special guardian fairies. Most of these were the chiefs of the half- mythical magic-skilled Dedannans ; but several were the deified heroes or heroines of the Milesian and other early Irish races, and they lived in splendid palaces in the interior of green mounds, great cairns, or isolated rocks, which often crown the tops of hills. Legends of this kind are found in the most ancient Irish literary remains ; they are mentioned or alluded to in manuscripts written more than a thousand years ago, and they are still current among the peasantry. Several of those presiding spirits are as celebrated now as they were when the oldest manuscripts were written, and popular stories about them are as prevalent as ever ; among whom may be mentioned Finvarra of Knockma near Tuam in Galway ; Donn of Knockfierna near Groom in Limerick ; Macananty of Scrabo Hill near New- townards ; and the two banshees of Munster, Cleena of Carrig-Cleena near Mallow in Cork, and Eevinn or Eevill of Craglea near Killaloe in Clare. The old legend assigned Slieve Bloom to a Milesian chief named Bladh (pronounced Blaw) who reigned there as the guardian genius. Bladh, we are told, was slain during the Milesian invasion in a skirmish with the Dedannans near these mountains, which ever after retained his name ; for the Irish name of the range, as we find it written in the oldest manu- scripts, is Slieve Bladhma, the mountain of Bladh, {Bladh making Bladhma in the genitive). As Bladhma is pronounced Blawma or Bloma, the Spenser's irish rivers. 89 present name Slieve Bloom is not a great departure from the original pronunciation ; and Spenser re- tained both the sound of the name and the spirit of the popular legend when he designated the deified Milesian chief as " that great gyant Blomius." "The wide embayed Mayre " is the Kenmare river and bay in the south-west of Kerry, which were often called Maire by English writers of that period ; as for example by Norden, who writes in his map "Flu. Maire," and by Boate, who describes it in his Natural History of Ireland as " a huge bay called Maire." The name was applied to the bay by English writers only ; and they borrowed it from Kenmare by a kind of reverse process, as if " Ken- mare" meant the ken or head of the estuary of Maire, exactly as Spenser himself formed Mulla from Kilnamulla (see page 108). The river flowing by Kenmare into the bay is the Eoughty ; and the original name of the extreme head of the bay, on which the town stands, was Ceann-Mara, which was in the first instance applied to the highest point to which the tide ascended in the river, and which signifies " head of the sea."* " The pleasant Bandon crownd with many a wood" flows altogether through the county of Cork by the towns of D unman way and Bandon into the sea at Kinsale. It has not quite lost the character given of it by the poet ; for though the magnificent woods that clothed all that country in Spenser's time have disappeared, yet along nearly the whole course of the * CeanH, a liead ; ninir, genitive miira, tlie sea, corresponding with Latin mare. 90 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. river there are numerous castles, mansions, and villas, all surrounded with pleasant plantations which crown the banks on either side. In " The spreading Lee," the poet alludes to the great expansion of the river Lee below Cork, which forms the noble harbour on which Queenstown is situated. At Cork the river divides into two branches a little above the city, near the Mardyke, which join again near the modern City Park at the east, forming an oval-shaped island two miles long. In Spenser's time the city was confined chiefly to the island ; but in later years it has extended across the river at both sides far beyond the original boundaries. " Balefull Oure late staind with English blood" is the Avonbeg in the county Wicklow, which flows through Glenmalure and joins the Avonmore at " The Meeting of the Waters." As this river has never before been identified, and as it is an excellent example of how the poet himself, even when he is using fictitious names, generally supplies, in his short descriptions, the means of discovering the exact places he is writing about, it will be worth while to unfold, one by one, the steps tliat have led to its identification. The words " late staind with English blood " must refer to a battle of some consequence in which the English were defeated and suffered loss, and which was still fresh in recollection when this passage was written. Looking back from the year 1590, which we may assume was the year, or very near it, when the Fourth Book of the Faerie Queene was written, we find two battles, and only two, in which the English were defeated, that might then be called "late." The first Spenser's irish rr-ers. 91 was fought in 1579 at a place called Gortnatubrid in the south of the county Limerick, where three hundred English soldiers and three officers were killed. Another was fought at Glenmalure in 1580 — the very year of Lord Grey's arrival — which was far more serious in its consequences. It will not be necessary to examine the details of the first ; for the second is the only action that answers Spenser's words; and it answers them in every particular. The Lord Deputy Grey, marching in that year against the Wicklow clans, including the great chief Fiach Mac Hugh O'Byrne and his men, pitched his camp on one of the hills over Glenmalure. On August 25 a strong force prepared for action and advanced incautiously into the recesses of this dangerous glen, while the Lord Deputy remained in his camp. They were allowed to proceed without interruption till they reached a narrow part of the defile, when they were suddenly attacked by the Irish on the banks of the little stream — the Avonbeg — and after a short and sharp struggle they 'were routed in great disorder, leaving behind them dead eight hundred men including four English officers. Sir Peter Carew and Colonels Moor, Cosby, and Audley. So far the river bears out the description, "late stained with English blood " ; and it is important to remark that this defeat was all the more disastrous in Spenser's eyes, and he would be the more likely to retain a vivid memory of it, as it was his own master Lord Grey that was concerned in it. Let us now consider the name " baleful! Cure." I have elsewhere observed that the poet often bestows fictitious names, generally borrowed from some 92 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. neighbouring features, of which several examples are given in the course of this paper : Arlo Hill from the Glen of Arlo; MuUa from KilnemuUa ; and from this again Mole, Molanna, and Armulla. So here also : " Oure " is merely the last syllable of Glenma- lure, or (Tlenmalour as he himself calls it in his View of the State of Ireland. And as to the word "balefull," the origin of this is very clear. Spenser generally endeavoured to find meanings in his names, being always ready to imagine one when the appearance of the word was in his favour ; and he often bestows an epithet that reflects this real or fancied signification. Here are some examples — all names of rivers — taken from Canto xi. of the Fourth Book : Wylibourne with passage slye That of his wyliuesse his name doth take. Mole that like a nousling mole doth make His way still under ground till Thames be overtake. Bounteous Trent, that in himself enseames Botli thirty [Fr. trente, thirty] sorts of fish and thirty sundry slreames. And there came Stoure with terrible aspect ['''stour," battle, tumult]. (False) Bregog bight [see p. Ill, below], So bight because of this deceitful traine. So also "sadTrowis" {suju-a: p. 79), " Tigris fierce," and several others. He does the same in the case before us, using "balefull" as if it were an equivalent for " mal " ; for the river " Mal-oure " was baleful, not only in the disastrous memory connected with it, but even in its very name.* The reader will observe * The poet is of course not correct, and very likely be knew it. But the syllable "mal" was very tempting under the circum- Spenser's irish rivers. 93 that here the same sort of fancy passed through the poet's mind as in the case of Mulla (p. 108 infra) ; in other words, he thought, or assumed, that the name of the river was Oiire or Maloure, and that it gave name to Glenmalure. The Glenmalure river or Avonbeg comes also into its natural place in the catalogue ; for starting from the Maire, and proceeding along the coast, east and north, the very next important river, not already named, after the Maire the Bandon and the Lee, is the one in question the Avonbeg or Ovoca. Although I have made a very diligent search in every available direction, I have failed to discover the river Spenser meant by " The stony Aubrian," the only one in his whole catalogue that remains unidentified. The first syllable is probably the common Irish word abh (pronounced an- or ow), signifying river, as we find it in Awbeg, Ownageeragh, Finnow, and many other river names. From the place it occupies in the catalogue, joined with three well-known large rivers — the order in the text being Liffey, ^\&nej, Aiibrinn, Shannon — it may be inferred that it is somewhere in South Munster, and that it is itself a considerable river. But after eliminating from the inquiry all the Munster rivers named here by the poet, I cannot find that any one of those remaining will answer both name and description. The Feale in Kerry, flowing by Abbeyfeale into the Shannon, is stances, for as an ordinary Latin-English prefix it was then, as it is now, well understood to mean something evil or baleful. The true original form of the name Glenmalure is Gleann" Maoilughra which means the glen of the tribe called Mailura. 94 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. a large river and stony enough in its bed ; but I have never heard that it has been called by any name like Aubvian. "The stony Aubrian " is a mystery, and so far as I am concerned will I fear remain so. In the first of Tu'o Cantos of Mutahilitie the poet relates, in a fine stream of poetry, how the goddess or "Titanesse" Mutabilitie laid claim to universal sovereignty ; that when Jove gave judgment against her, she appealed to the highest authority of all — "Father of gods by equal right, to weet, the god of nature" ; and that Jove, very much against his will, agreed to the appeal, bidding " Dan Phoebus, scribe, her appellation seale." Eftsoones the time and place appointed were, Where all, both heavenly powers and earthly wights, Before great Natures presence should appeare For triall of their titles and best rights : That was, to weet, upon the highest hights Uf Arlo-hill (who knows not Arlo-hill ?) That is the highest head in all mens sights. Of nij' old father Mole, whom shepheards quill Renownied hath with hymnes fit for a rurall skill. If there be any reader "who knows not Arlo-hill," the scene of this solemn trial, the following examina- tion will enable him to find it out. In the neighbourhood of Buttevant and Charleville in the county of Cork, begins a range of mountains which runs in a direction nearly eastwards till it terminates near Caher in Tipperary, a distance of about thirty miles. The middle part is low, and interrupted by high plains, but the extremities rise boldly in two well-defined mountain groups ; the western portion being called the Ballyhoura Mountains, and the eastern the Galtys. This eastern portion is also the highest, SPENSEK's IRISH RIVERS. 95 abounding in peaks precipices and gorges ; and one particular summit, Galtymore, the most elevated of the whole range, attains a height of 3,015 feet. This last peak rises immediately over the vale of Aherlow, or Arlo as it was commonly called by Anglo-Irish writers of Spenser's time, including Spenser himself ; a fine valley eight or ten miles long walled in by the dark steep slopes of the Galtys on the south-east side, with Galtymore towering over all, and by the long ridge of Slievenamuck on the north-west. The whole range from Buttevant to Caher is what Spenser calls "Mole "or "old father Mole," as will appear very plainly a little farther on. The mountain mass that culminates in Galtymore is Arlo-hill, on which the meeting of the gods was held ; but the name Arlo was applied to the hill only by Spenser himself, who borrowed it from the adjacent valley, and who, after his usual fashion, selected it on account of its musical sound. That Arlo-hill is Galtymore and no other is shown by several expres- sions scattered through this part of the poem. Arlo, we are told, overlooks the plain through which the river Suir flows : [Diana] quite foisooke All those faire foriests about Arlo liid ; And all that mountaine whiuh doth overlooke The richest chanipain that may els^e be rid ; And the faire Shuie in which are thousand salmons bred ; which indicates that it is among the Galtys. For, standing on the summit of these mountains, you have the magnificent plain of Tipperary at your feet, a part of the "Golden Vale," truly designated by the poet as " the richest champain that may else be 96 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. rid " ; while on the other hand this plain cannot be seen at all from the western part of the range. The name Arlo connects it with the vale of Aherlow ; and that it is the same as Galtymore is placed beyond all doubt by the statement that Arlo-hill Is the highest head, in all mens sights, Of my old father Mole. Spenser tells us, at the beginning of Colin Clouts come home againe, that he lived at the foot of Mole : One day (quoth he) I sat (as was my trade) Under the foote of Mole, that mountain hore, Keeping my sheepe amongst the cooly shade Of the greene alders by the Mullaes shore. This, we know, was where Kilcohnan Castle ruin now stands, under the Ballyhoura hills, at the western extremity of the range ; and as Arlo-hill in the Galtys "is the highest head in all mens sights of my old father Mole," it is quite plain that by "old father Mole " the poet meant the whole range, including the Galtys and the Ballyhouras. Moreover, he tells us in the same poem : Mole hight that mountain gray That walls the noith side of Armulla dale ; from which it appears that he gave the name of Armulla to that wide valley through which the Blackwater flows, walled on the north by Father Mole, and on the south by the Boggera hills and the Nagles Mountains near Fermoy. But these names, Mole, Mulla, Armulla, are all fictitious ; and I shall presently have a word to say about their origin. Before describing the meeting of the gods and the Spenser's irish rivers. 97 trial of the claims of the Titanesse, the poet intro- duces a pretty episode about Arlo-hill. He relates that Whylome when Ireland florished in fame Of wealth and goodnesse far above the rest Of all that beare the British Islands name, The gods then us'd, for pleasure and for rest, Oft to resort thereto when seem'd them best : But none of all therein more pleasure found Then Cynthia that is soveraine Queene profest Of woods and forrest which therein abound, Sprinkled with wholsom waters more then most on ground. But mongst them all, as fittest for her game, She chose this Arlo ; where shee did resort With all her nymphes enranged on a rowe, • •••«' Amongst the which there was a nymph that hight Molanna ; daughter of old Father Mole, And sister unto MuUa faire and bright ; Unto whose bed false Bregog whylome stole, That Shepheard Colin dearely did condole. And made her lucklesse loves well knowne to be ;* But this Molanna, were she not so shole [shallow], "Were no lesse faire and beautifuU then shee : Yet as she is a fairer flood may no man see. For first she springs out of two marble rocks On which a grove of oakes high mounted growes, That as a girlond seemes to deck the locks Of some faire bride brought forth with pompous showes Out of her boM're, that many flowers etrowes : So through the flowry dales she tumbling downe Through many woods and shady coverts flowes. That on each side her silver channell crowne, Till to the plaine she come whose valleyes she dolh drowne. * The story of tlie loves of the Bregoge and Mulla, alluded to here, will be found at pp. 107 to 112 farther on. II 98 THE WONDEES OF IRELAND. In her sweet streames Diana used oft, After her sweatie chace and toilsome play, To hathe herselfe ; and after on the soft And downy grasse her dainty linibes to lay In covert shade, where none behold her may.* The poet goes on to tell how the foolish wood-god Faunus had long wished to catch a sight of the god- dess but found no way to compass his design till at last he persuaded the nymph Molanna, by tempting her with bribes, "To tell what time he might her lady see." Thereto hee promist, if slie would him pleasure "With this small boone, to quit her with a better ; To weet, that whereas shee had out of measure Long lov'd the Fanchin who by nought did set her, That he would undertake for this to get her To be his love, and of him liked well.* Faunus succeeded, by the help of the nymph, but was caught in the very act by the goddess and her attendants ; and being closely questioned as to who had led him there, he confessed in his fright that it was Molanna. "Whereupon they punished him by dressing him in the skin of a deer and chasing him with their hounds ; but he managed to escape them all. So they him follow'd till they weary were; When, back returning to Molann' againe, They, by commaund'ment of Diana, there Her whelm'd with stones : yet Faunus, for her paine. Of her beloved Fanchin did obtaine, That her he would receive unto his bed. So now her waves passe through a pleasant plaine, ■ Till witli the Fanchin she herselfe do wed, And, both coinhiii'd, themselves in one faire river spred. * Chap. vi. Spenser's irish rivers. 99 Nath'lesse Diana, full of indignation, Thenceforth abandoned her delicious brooke ; In whose sweet streame, before that bad occasion. So much delight to bathe her linibes she tooke : Ne onely her, but also quite forsooke All those faire forrests about Arlo hid; And all that niountaine which doth overlooke The richest champain that may else be rid : And the faire Shure in which are thousand salmons bred. The Fancliin, or as it is now called, the Funsheon, is a small river, rising in the Galty mountains, and flowing by Mitchelstown and Glanworth into the Blackwater two miles below Fermoy, after a course of about thirty miles. But no one has yet pointed out the stream that Spenser designated by the name Molanna. Smith indeed in his History of Cork attempts to do so ; but this careful writer must have been misled in the pre- sent instance by some incorrect old map, or by some other erroneous evidence ; for in his description of the source of the Funsheon and in his identification of the Molanna, he is quite wrong, as I shall I think be able to show very plainly. After the time of Smith, the editors of Spenser and other writers who interested themselves in this matter followed his (Smith's) authority without question or examination. Smith states that the Funsheon "rises in the county of Tipperary, in a bog a mile south of the mountains called Galtys. Not far from its source — (he says) it receives a brook called the Brackbawn, which divides the county of Limerick from Tipperary and rises in the Galty mountains."* And in a note *ms(. o/Cor/c, ii. 2G6. h2 100 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. at the foot of the page he states that the Brackbawn is Spenser's Molanna. To anyone who has not examined the place all this appears satisfactory, and to fall in exactly with Spenser's description. But a walk of three or four miles along the river will at once dispel the illusion. The river that Smith describes as meeting the Brackbawn from a bog in Tipperary, and which he says is the Funsheon, has no existence at all. The Brackbawn, for the whole of its short course of four miles, forms the boundary line between the counties of Tipperary and Limerick ; and it so happens that there is no stream joining it from the Tipperary side. On that side, the fall of ground lies the other way, and all the rivulets flow eastward towards the basin of the Suir. The Brackbawn is in fact the source or head- water of the Funsheon : it is the main stream — the Funsheon itself — though it is called the Brackbawn (and sometimes the Attycraan) for the first four miles of its course, and the Funsheon from that down. I have said that the Brackbawn is the main stream : I should have said, rather, that it is the only stream; for from the point high up in the mountains where the Brackbawn is formed by the junction of two streams, down to where it begins to be called the Funsheon, it receives no tributary at all, either from the Tipperary or from the Limerick side. As the Brackbawn is the Funsheon it cannot be th Molanna, as Smith and his followers assert ; for the context of the poem shows clearly that the Molanna and the Funsheon are two different streams, and that the Molanna is a tributary of the Funsheon. Spenser's irish rivers.' 101 It is evident that Spenser was well acquainted with all this neighbourhood. It forms part of " Armulla Dale," the valley he himself lived in; it is only about sixteen miles from Kilcolman — within view in fact of the castle windows ; and he describes the rivers with such exactness and detail, and his descriptions are so correct, that it is impossible to avoid believing that he explored the place himself and wrote from personal know- ledge. Although I knew this locality many years ago very intimately, I visited it from Dublin on a pleasant day of last June (1877), to examine the rivers and to judge for myself. I walked along the streams up into the heart of the Galty mountains ; and anyone who performs the same pleasant pilgrimage, with the poet's description in his mind, and who looks about him with ordinary attention, will identify the Molanna without the least difficulty. There is in fact no choice. The whole context of- the poem indicates that the Molanna flows from the slopes of x\rlo-hill. There are only two streams of any consequence flowing into the Funsheon valley from the Galtys. One of these is the Funsheon itself, or the Brackbawn, which, as I have already observed, forms for some distance the boundary between Limerick and Tipperary. Its source is high up among the mountains, about a quarter of a mile east of the summit of Galtymore ; and it flows from several springs along the glen, one on the boundary line of the counties, others on the Limerick side, but none, as far as I could see, on the east or Tipperary side. 102 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. The other stream is the Behanna,* which rises in ' Arlo-hill,' a little to the west of the summit of Galtymore, and after a course of about four miles, joins the Funsheon at the hamlet of Kilbeheny. This is the Molaima. We have, as I have said, no choice in the matter ; there is no stream but the Behanna flowing from the Galtys into the Funsheon, except mere tiny brooklets that could not claim a moment's consideration ; and in every respect it answers the poet's description of the Molanna. It is formed by the junction of two streams far up in the mountains, each flowing through a deep glen, with a high hill (Knocknadarrift" or the hill of the bulls) jutting out boldly between them. The eastern branch is named Carrigeen (little rock) from a rock extending along the side of the glen through which it flows, which is also often called Doocarrig or black rock. The other or western branch is called Coolatinny (the recess of the fox), or more commonly the Pigeon Eock stream. Rising over the side of the western glen is a great precipice called Carrignagloor, or the rock of the pigeons, which gives the name of Pigeon Eock to the stream. Each stream has its own rock towering up on the side of its glen ; and this is obviously what the poet had in his mind when he described the Molanna as " springing from two marble rocks." The " grove of cakes high mounted " over the double source is gone indeed ; but so are the dense woods that once * It is now called Beheena by the natives ; but a generation ago it was called Behanna, and this is the name perpetuated on the Ordnance maps. Spenser's irish rivers. 103 clothed the Galtys — " all those faire forrests about Arlo hid " — for which these mountains were noted in times not very remote. When- you look from a point on the Behanna, a little below the junction of the two head streams, upwards into the two rocky glens winding into the heart of the mountains, you can hardly help believing that in Spenser's time the grove of oaks that so struck his fancy crowned the summit of Knocknadarriflf, which rises abrupt and bare between the two streams to a height of 2,000 feet straight before you. The " many woods and shady coverts " that crowned the silver channel of the Molanna three hundred years ago are also gone ; but down to a very recent period a wood extended along both sides of the river for about a mile below the junction of the two tributary streams. This was called Coolattin wood, and was a modern plantation ; but it was doubtless the successor of a forest of ancient growth. Coolattin wood was cut down seven or eight years ago, but abundant vestiges of it still remain — roots and stumps of trees, and an occasional undergrowth of oak, ash, hazel, and birch. After tumbling down from its mountain channel, the Behanna emerges sharply on the plain, through which it winds gently for the last mile of its course, among level meadows and cornfields, till it joins the Funsheon near the bridge of Kilbeheny; thus corresponding exactly with the words of the poet : So now her M'aves passe through a pleasant plaine, Till with the Fanchin she herselfe do wed, And, both combin'd, themselves in one faire river spred. The stream is very steep in the first part of its 104 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. course ; and the winter torrents have in the course of ages rolled down vast quantities of large stones and gravel and deposited them in the level part of its bed. The people indeed often come specially to the river during heavy floods to listen to the great noise made by the stones as they are rolled down by the torrent, tearing crashing and grind- ing against each other. The poet has figured this feature of the river bed under a thin veil, in the passage where he tells us that the nymphs at the command of Diana overwhelmed Molanna with stones. So that here as elsewhere his accurate delineation of local features helps us to identify the stream ; and when we have succeeded in this, our knowledge of the place heightens our appreciation of his beautiful allegory. He is no less truthful when he writes : But this Molanna, were she not so shole [shallow], "Were no lesse faire and beautifull then shee [i.e. than the Mulla] : Yet ai she is a fairer flood may no man see. For the Behanna never becomes deep and slow in its movement like the Mulla, but flows brightly and quickly along, winding and dashing among the stones that everywhere strew its bed, and showing all along the clear gravel at the bottom. And as to beauty, I question whether the poet was not prejudiced in favour of his own beloved Mulla, when he pronounced it superior to Molanna ; for even though "so shole," the Molanna is a very lovely stream. In the early part of its course, the river forms Spenser's irish rivers. 105 many crystal pools, each under a little rocky cascade ; and it was in these that Diana used oft, After her sweatie chace and toilsome play, To bathe herselfe. When I was walking along the stream on a sultry evening in June, I could not help thinking how delicious it would be to imitate the goddess. As "Molanna" is a fictitious name, it may naturally be asked what was the circumstance that suggested it to the poet's mind ; for the reader will have observed that all Spenser's fictitious names were adopted from some local features ; and the origin of this name appears quite clear. The poet tells us that Molanna was " sister unto Mulla faire and bright;" for both were daughters of "old Father Mole," and according to the poet's fancy took their names from him. But the latter part of the name Molanna, I think it very obvious, was suggested to Spenser partly by the native name Behanna, and partly also perhaps by the fact that on the eastern bank of the stream there is a small lake giving name to a townland, called to this day Lough-an-anwa. I am persuaded that the idea of making Arlo-hill the scene of these gatherings of the gods was sug- gested to Spenser by the native legends. For in times oi old, in the shadowy days of Irish romance, this hill was very famous ; it was the resort of fairies and enchanters, of gods and goddesses, though these last were not the same as those recorded by Spenser ; and many stories of their strange doings 106 THE WONDERS OF lEELAND. are still preserved in our old manuscript books, especially in one called " The Book of Ballymote.'! It was liere, near the summit of the hill, that Cliach the youthful harper of Connaught sat for a whole year, pleading his love for the Princess Baina the daughter of the Dedannan fairy king Bove Derg. But although he played on two harps at the same time, he was not able by the spells of his fairy music to open the gates of the palace, for the magical power of the king was an overmatch for him : neither did he succeed in winning the love of the princess, whose heart remained hardened against him to the last. So that the earth at length taking pity on his sorrows, opened up under his feet and received him into her bosom. And the hollow was immediately filled up by a lake, which remains to this day near the top of the hill. The legend* adds that " Crotta Cliach," the old name of the Galty mountains, was derived from this love tragedy ; for " Crotta Cliach " signifies, according to this account, the crotta or harps of Cliach, in allusion to the two emits or harps on which he played. It was here too that another fairy princess, the beautiful Keraber, and her train of seven score and ten damsels, who were bright-coloured birds one year and had their own shapes the next — here it was in this very lake, that they spent their time, swimming about year after year while they were birds, linked together in couples with chains of silver. It is highly probable that Spenser was acquainted with these and other legends about Arlo-hill — why Which, as well as the next, is found in the Book of Ballymote. Spenser's ieish rivers. 107 should he not know them as well as lie knew the legend of Lough Melvin at the other side of Ireland ? — they were then quite common among the peasantry, as indeed some of them are at the present day ; and we may very well suppose that he took from them the hint of the meeting of the gods, and of his beautiful episode of Diana and her nymphs. The story of the loves of the two rivers Bregog and Mulla is related in Colin Clouts come home againe; and the poet introduces this little pastoral narrative with a particular account of his own melodious Mulla : Old father Mole (Mole hight that mountain gray- That walls the north side of Armulla dale ;) He had a daughter fresh as floure of May Which gave that name unto that pleasant vale ; Mulla the daughter of old Mole, so hight The niniph, which of that water course has charge. That, springing out of Mole, doth run dovvne right To Ruttevant, where spreading forth at large, It giveth name unto that auncient Cittie, "Which KilnemuUah cleped [named] is of old. The little river Mulla, which he elsewhere speaks of as " Mulla mine whose waves I whilom taught to weep," flows by Buttevant and Doneraile, passing through the district once held by Spenser, within a short distance of Kilcolman Castle, and after a gentle winding course of about twenty-five miles it joins the Blackwater half-way between Mallow and Fermoy. The name Mulla, which Spenser toolc sucli delight in, is not, and never was, the name of the river ; but the poet used it, as elsewhere he used Arlo, in pre- ference to the true name, on account of its musical 108 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. sound. Its proper name is Awbeg, little river ; and it was so called to distinguish it from the Avonmore (great river) or Blackwater. The poet got the name Mulla much in the same way as he got " balefull Oure " ;* he borrowed it from Kilnemullah, which as he truly states was the old name of Buttevant. The river grows very wide, " spreading forth at large," at Buttevant, forming a kind of elongated lake ; and he assumed that its own proper name was Mulla, and that it gave name to Kilnemullah — " it giveth name unto that auncient Cittie "f — it was enough for him that it looked plausible ; — and having got the name Mulla, he used it ever after for the river, and loved it and multiplied it in every direction. Its first reproduction is in " Old Father Mole," the fanciful name of the range of hills already noticed, father of the nymph Mulla, who, following up, or rather reversing, the fiction, took her name from her grey old sire, as did also her sister nymph Molanna ; and lastly, the name Armulla had a like origin, for Mulla" gave that name unto that pleasant vale." [Mulla] lov'd and was beloved full faine Of her owue brother river, Bregog hight,- So hight because of this deceitfuU traine Which he with Mulla wrought to win delight. * Seep. 91. t As if it were the kill or church of Mulla. But this is not correct, for the old name is Cill-na-mullach, ecclesia ttmtulorum, as O'Sullivau Beare translates it, " the church of the summits or hillocks." The present name Buttevant is believed to be derived from Boutez-en-avant, a French phrase, meaning " push forward," the motto of the Barrj'more family. Spenser's trish rivers. 109 But her old sire more carefull of her good, And meaning her much better to preferre, Did tViinke to match her with the neighbour flood, Which Alio bight, Broadwater [the Blackwater] called farre. And in fact the day was fixed for the marriage ; but Bregog was determined to have Mulla for himself, and the nymph secretly favoured his advances. The old father, " sitting still on hie," kept a close watch on the lovers ; but Bregog was too clever for him and circumvented him in the end. For the rest we must let Colin Clout tell the story in his own delightful way. Her father, sitting still on hie. Did warily still watch which way she went, And eke from far observ'd with iealous eie Which way his course the wanton Bregog bent ; Him to deceive, for all his watchfull ward. Thy wily lover did devise this slight : First into many parts his stream he shar'd That, whilest the one was watcht the other might Passe unespide to meete her by the way ; And then besides those little streames so broken He under ground so closely did convay. That of tlieir passage doth appeare no token Till they into the Mullaes water slide. So secretly did he his love enioy : Yet not so secret but it was descride, And told her father by a shepheard's boy. Who, wondrous wroth for that so foule despight, In great revenge did roll down from his hill Huge mighty stones tbe which encomber might His passage, and his water courses spill. So of a River wbich he was of old, He none was made, but scattred all to nought ; And lost eniong those rocks into him rold, Did lose his name : so deare his love he bo\ight. 110 THE WONDERS OP IRELAND. The little river Bregoge is still well known by the same name. It rises in two deep glens on Corrin- more Hill, one of the Ballyhoura range, and flowing near Kilcolman Castle, it joins the Awbeg or Mulla at the town of Doneraile after a course of about five miles. This river is described by the poet in his fanciful sketch with great truthfulness. After leaving the hills it traverses the plain before its junction with the Awbeg ; and for some distance after emerging from its mountain home its channel is often very wide, and filled with heaps of gravel and stones brought down by the floods, so that the stream, which is generally very small and often nearly dry, is much scattered and interrupted ; and we may assume that it was still more so in Spenser's time, before the bed was shut in by cultivation. These are the stones rolled down by Old Father Mole in his " great revenge." In the lower part of its course, the river traverses a limestone plain, winding along a lovely little glen among rich meadows interspersed with groves and shrubberies and grey limestone rocks, sometimes rising high up on either bank and sometimes just peeping out from among the foliage. Two or three times, from " Streamhill," where the two principal feeders meet, down to "Old Court"— a distance of about two miles — the river sinks out of sight and flows underground for a considerable distance through the caverns of the limestone rock under its bed, leaving its channel completely dry. It presents this appearance always except in wet weather or during a flood, when the underground caverns are not able to swallow all the water, and the stream then flows continuously. Spenser's irish rivers. Ill With this pecuHarity Spenser was thoroughly well acquainted, as he describes it with great correctness : Those little streames so brokea He [Bregog] under ground so closely did convay, That of their passage doth appeare no token Till they into the Mullaes water slide. The poet called this little river by its true name, which is not very musical, instead of inventing or borrowing one as he did in so*^many other cases ; for it so happened that he was able to turn its significa- tion to account — if indeed, as is probable, the name did not suggest the treatment— in working out his pretty pastoral, " Bregog," meaning, as he rightly interprets it, a false one or a deceiver. So hight because of this deceitful! traine, Which he with MuUa wrought to win delight. It may not be amiss to say a word here regarding this name and its signification, though in doing so we shall have to descend from the airy world of fancy to the solid level ground of sober reality. Bre(j is an Irish word meaning a falsehood, and in various forms it is applied to rivers that are subject to sudden and dangerous floods or which flow through deep quag- mires ; signifying, in this application, deceitful or treacherous. There is for instance a stream called Breagagh near the city of Kilkenny, and another near Thurles in Tipperary. And Trawbreaga Bay at Malin in the north of Donegal is so called (Traw- breaga meaning the strand of falsehood or treachery) because the tide rises there so suddenly that it has often swept away people walking incautiously on the shore. 112 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND, Spenser's Bregog is formed by the junction of four mountain rivulets all of about the same length, and meeting nearly at the same point, whence the united stream flows on to the Awbeg. These rivulets carry little water in dry weather, but whenever a heavy and continuous shower falls on the hills, four moun- tain floods rush down simultaneously and meet together nearly at the same instant, swelling the little river in a few moments to a furious and dan- gerous torrent. All this is quite well understood in the neighbourhood. An intelligent man living near the river told me that it was the most " roguish " river in the world ; for when you least expected it, and when the stream looked perfectly quiet and gentle, the flood would rise in a quarter of an hour to a height of seven or eight feet, rushing down " all abreast," as he expressed it. I may add that the word " roguish " gives exactly the sense of the Irish name " Bregoge." The following are the identifications established in the preceding paper. Many of them are of course obvious : but many others are not so, and have been brought forward and proved here for the first time : — "Lifiy"; the Eiver Liffey in Wicklow, Kildare, and Dublin (p. 75). " Sandy Slane " ; the Slaney, flowing into the sea a Wexford (p. 75). [" Stony Aubrian " ; the only one of all Spenser's Irish rivers not identified (p. 93).] Spenser's irish rivkes. 113 " Spacious Sbenan " ; the Shannon (p. 76). " Pleasant Boyne " ; the Boyne flowing into the sea at Drogheda (p. 76). "Fishy fruitfnll Ban " ; the Bann in Ulster (p. 76). "Swift Awniduff which of the English man is cal'de Blacke- water " ; the Ulster Black water flowing into Lough Neagh : not the Munster Blackwater (pp. 80 to 86). " Liffar deep " ; the Foyle at Lifford in Donegal (P- 77). " Sad Trowis " ; the little river Drowes between the counties of Donegal and Leitrim (pp. 77 to 80). " Strong Alio " ; the great Munster Blackwater : not the present little river Alio (pp. 80 to 85). "Mulla mine"; the Awbeg flowing by Buttevant and Doneraile in Cork (pp. 80 to 108). " That great Gyant Blomius " ; the Slieve Bloom Mountains (pp. 74, 86, 87 to 89). " Gentle Shure " ; the Suir in Munster (pp. 86, 87). " Stubborne Newre"; the Nore, joining the Suir (pp. 86, 87). "Rosseponte " ; New Ross in Wexford (p. 87). " Goodly Barow " ; the Barrow, joining the Suir (pp. 86, 87). " Wide embayed Mayre " ; Kenmare river and bay in Kerry (p. 89). "Pleasant Bandon " ; the river flowing by Bandon in Cork (p. 89). "Spreading Lee"; the Lee flowing through Cork (p. 90). " BalefuU Oure " ; the Avonbeg in the county Wicklow (pp. 90 to 93). 1.14 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. "Alio Hill"; Galtymore, the highest peak of the Galty Mountains (pp. 94 to 96). u yioiQ .'_y Jolin ; he was soon after murdered, which it was heiieved was done by John's ordeis, 182 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. By reason of such evil and envious tales, though untrue they were, Sir Hugh de Lacy was at last commanded by King John to do what he might to apprehend and take Sir John de Courcy. Whereupon he devised and conferred with certain of Sir John's own men how this might be done ; and they said it was not possible to do so the while he was in his battle-harness. But they told him that it might be done on Good Friday ; for on that day it was his accustomed usage to wear no shield, harness, or weapon, but that he would be found kneeling at his prayers after he had gone about the church five times barefooted. And having so devised, they lay in wait for him in his church at Downpatrick ; and when they saw him barefooted and unarmed they rushed on him suddenly. But he, snatching up a heavy wooden cross that stood nigh the church, defended him till it was broken, and slew thirteen of them before he was taken. And so he was sent to England and was put into the Tower of London to remain there in perpetual, and there miserably was kept a long time without as much meat or apparel as any account could be made of. Now these men had agreed to betray their master to Sir Hugh de Lacy for a certain reward of gold and silver ; and when they came to Sir Hugh for their reward, he gave them the gold and silver as he had promised. They then craved of him a passport into England to tell all about the good service they had done ; which he gave them, with the following words written in it : — " This writing witnesseth that those whose names are herein subscribed, that did betray so good a SIR JOHN DE COURCY. 183 master for reward, will be false to me and to all the earth besides. And inasmuch as I put no trust in them, I do banish them out of this land of Ireland for ever ; and I do let Englishmen know that none of them may enjoy any part of this our king's land, or be employed as servitors from this forward for ever." And so he wrote all their names, and put them in a ship with victuals and furniture, but without mariners or seamen, and put them to sea, and gave them strict charge never to return to Ireland on pain of death. And after this they were not heard of for a long time ; but by chance of weather and lack of skilful men, they arrived at Cork, and being taken, were brought to Sir Hugh de Lacy ; and first taking all their treasure from them, he hung them in chains and so left them till their bodies wasted away. This deed that Sir Hugh de Lacy did was for an ensample that none should use himself the like, and not for love of Sir John de Courcy : since it appeareth from certain ancient authors that he would have it so that De Courcy's name should not be so much as menUoned, and that no report or commendation of hhn should ever be made. And now Sir. John de Courcy, being in the Tower in evil plight, cried often to God why He suffered him to be thus so miserably used, who did build so many good abbeys and did so many good deeds to God : and thus often lamenting with himself he asked God his latter end to finish. It fortuned after this that much variance and debate did grow between King John of England and 184 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. King Philip of France'''' about a certain castle which the king of France won from King John. And when King Philip had often been asked to restore it he refused, saying it was his by right. But at last he offered to try the matter by battle. For he had a champion, a mighty man who had never been beaten ; and he challenged the king of England to find on his side, a champion to fight him, and let the title to the castle depend on the issue thereof; to which King John, more hasty than well advised, did agree. And when the day of battle was appointed, the king of England called together his Council to find out where a champion might be found that would take upon him this honour and weighty enterprise. Many places they sought and inquired of, but no one was found that was Avilling to engage in so perilous a matter. And the king was in a great agony, fearing more the dishonour of the thing than the loss of the castle. At length a member of the Council came to the king and told him that there was a man in the Tower of London — one De Courcy— that in all the earth was not his peer, if he would only fight. The king was much rejoiced thereat, and sent unto him to require and command him to take the matter in hand : but Sir John refused. The king sent again and offered him great gifts ; but again he refused, saying he would never serve the king in field any more ; for he thought himself evil rewarded for such service as he did him before. The king sent to him *At this time the kings of England had a large territory in France, so that quarrels often arose het ween them and the French kings. SIR JOHN DE COURCY. 185 a third time and bade him ask whatever he would for himself aud for his friends, and all should be granted to him : and he said furthermore that upon his stalworth and knightly doings the honour of the realm of England did rest and depend. He answered that for himself the thing he would wish to ask for, King John w^as not able to give, namely, the lightness and freedom of heart that he once had, but which the king's unkind dealing had taken from him. As for his friends, he said that saving a few they were all slain in the king's service ; " and for these reasons " said he "I mean never to serve the king more. But " — he went on to say — " the honour of the realm of England, that is another matter : and I would defend it so far as lies in my power provided I might have such things as I shall ask for." This was promised to him, and the king sent messeng-ers to set him at liberty ; who, when they had entered into his prison, found him in great misery. His hair was all matted and overgrew his shoulders to liis waist ; he had scarce any apparel, and the little he had fell in rags over his great body ; and his face was hollow from close confinement and for lack of food. After all things that he required had been granted to him, ho asked for one thing more, namely, that his sword should be sent for all the way to JJownpatrick in Ireland, where it would be found within the altar of the church ; for with that weapon he said he would fight and with no other. After much delay it was brought to him ; and when they saw it and felt its weight, they marvelled that any 186 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. man could wield it. And good food was given to him, and seemly raiment, and he had due exercise, and in all things he was cherished and made much of; so that his strength of body and stoutness of heart returned to him. The lists were enclosed and all things were prepared against the day of battle. The two kings were there outside the lists with most of their nobility and thousands of great people to look on, all sitting on seats placed high up for good view. Within the lists Avere two tents for the champions where they might rest till the time appointed. And men were chosen to see that all things were carried on fairly and in good order. When the time drew nigh, the French champion came forth on the field and did his duty of obeisance, and bowed with reverence and courtesy to all around, and went back to his tent where he waited for half an hour. The king of England sent for Sir John to come forth, for that the French champion rested a long time waiting his coming ; to which he answered " roughly that he would come forth when he thought it was time. And when he still delayed, the king sent one of his Council to desire him to make haste, to which he made answer : — " If thou or those kings were invited to such a banquet, you would make no great haste coming forth to partake of it." On tliis the king, deeming that he was not going to fight at all, was about to depart in a great rage, thinking much evil of Sir John de Courcy. While he was tlius musing. Sir John came forth in surly mood for memory of all the ill usage that had been SIK JOHN DE COURCY. 187 wrought on liim ; aud lie stalked straight on looking neither to the right nor to the left and doing no reverence to anyone : and so back to his tent. Then the trumpets sounded the first charge for the champions to approach. Forth they came and passing by slowly, viewed each other intently without a word. And when the foreign champion noted De Courcy's fierce look, and measured with his eyes his great stature and mighty limbs, he was filled with dread and fell all a-trembling. At length the trumpets sounded the last charge for the fight to begin ; on which De Courcy quickly drew his sword and advanced ; but the Frenchman, turning right round " ranne awaie off the fielde aud betooke him to Spaine." Whereupon the English trumpets sounded victory ; and there was such shouting and cheering, such a-clapping of hands and such a-throwing of caps in the air as the like was never seen before. When the multitude became quiet, King Philip desired of King John that De Courcy might be called before them to give a trial of his strength by a blow upon a helmet : to which De Courcy agreed. They fixed a great stake of timber in the ground, standing up the height of a man, over Avhicli they put a shirt of mail Avith a helmet on top. And when all was ready, De Courcy drawing his sword looked at the kings with a grim and terrible look that fearful it was to behold ; after which he struck such a blow as cut clean through the helmet and through the shirt of mail, and down deep in the piece of timber. And so fast was the sword fixed that no man in the assembly using his two hands with tlic utmost efi'ort, could 188 THK WONDERS OF IRELAND. pluck it out ; but Sir John taking it in one hand drew it forth easily. The princes, marvelUng at so huge a stroke, desired to understand why he looked so terrible at them before he struck the blow : on which he answered : — "I call St. Patrick of Down to witness that if I had missed the mark I would have cut the heads off both of you kings on the score of all the ill usage I received aforetime at your hands." King John being satisfied with all matters as they turned out took his answer in good part : and he gave him back all the dominions that before he had in Ireland as Earl of Ulster and lord of Connaught and of Kinsale in Cork ; and licensed him to return, with many great gifts besides. And to this day the people of Ireland hold in memory Sir John de Courcy and his mighty deeds ; and the ruins of many great castles builded by him are to be seen all over Ulster.* * When I was u boy Joliu de Courcy was m ell known in tradition and legend among the Limerick peasantry ; and stories about him were common. Paddy MacGrath, ofGlenosheen, a noted s/iimac/iie — of whom 1 retain a genial and pleasant memory — often tiild tliis very story of De Courcy and the foreign champion, and told it with spirit, as he did all his stories ; while we boj's listened entranced and breathless. I have not the least noiion of how the people got these stories. The usual name by which John de Courcy was known among the people was Scd/t a hhuillv niliHlr. "John of tiie mii;ht3' stroke." ST. DONATUS, BISHOP OF FIESOLE. 189 ST. DONATUS, BISHOP OF FIESOLE.^' In .every good History of Ireland we are told how missionaries and learned men went in great numbers from Ireland to the Continent in the early ages of Christianity to preach the Gospel and to teach in colleges. A full account of the lives and labours of these earnest and holy men would fill several volumes: but the following short sketch of one of them will give the reader a good idea of all . Donatus was born in Ireland of noble parents towards the end of the eighth century. There is good reason to believe that he was educated in the monastic school of Inishcaltra, a little island in Lough Derg, near the Galway shore, now better known as Holy Islandf : so that he was probably a native of that part of the country. Here he studied with great industry and success. He became a priest, and in course of time a bishop : and he was greatly distinguished as a professor. Having spent a number of years teaching, he re- solved to make a pilgrimage to Eome and visit the holy places on the way. He had a favourite pupil named Andrew belonging to a noble Irish family, a handsome, high-spirited youth, but of a deeply religious turn : and these two, master and scholar, were much attached. And when Donatus made known his intention to go as a pilgrim to foreign lands, Andrew, who could not bear to be separated * Fiesolein Tuscany, Italy ; pronounced in four syllables : Fee- ess' -o-lo. t In the *' Child's History of Ireland " there is a picture of the round tower and chuicli ruins on this little inland. 190 THE WONDEES OF IRELAND. from him, begged to be permitted to go with him : to which Donatus consented. When they had made the few simple preparations necessary, they went down to the shore, accompanied by friends and relatives ; and bidding farewell to all — home, friends, and country — amid tears and regrets, they set sail and landed on the coast of France. And now, here were these two men, with stout hearts, determined will, and full trust in God, ex- hibiting an excellent example of what numberless Irish exiles of those days gave up, and of what trials and dangers they exposed themselves to, for the sake of religion. One was a successful teacher and a bishop ; the other a young chief ; and both might have lived in their own country a life of peace and plenty. But they reUnquished all that for a higher and hoher purpose ; and they brought with them neither luxury nor comfort. They had, on landing, just as much money and food as started them on their journey ; and with a small satchel strapped on shoulder, con- taining a book or two, some relics, and other neces- sary articles, and with stout staff in hand, they travelled the whole way on foot. Whenever a monastery lay near their road, there they called, sure of a kind reception, and rested for a day or two. When no monastery was within reach, they simply begged for food and night-shelter as they fared along, making themselves understood by the peasantry as best they could, for they knew little or nothing of their language. Much hardship they endured from hunger and thirst, bad weather, rough paths that often led them astray, and constant fatigue. They were sometimes in danger too from rude and wicked ST, DONATUS, BISHOP OF FIESOLE 191 peasants, some of whom thought no more of killing a stranger than of killing a sparrow. But before setting out, the two pilgrims knew well the hardships and dangers in store for them on the way : so that they were quite prepared for all this : and on they trudged contented and cheerful, never swerving an instant from their purpose. They travelled in a sort of zigzag way, continually turning aside to visit churches, shrines, hermitages, and all places consecrated by memory of old-time saints, or of past events of importance in the history of Christianity. And whenever they heard, as they went slowly along, of a man eminent for holiness and learning, they made it a point to visit him so as to have the benefit of his conversation and advice ; using the Latin language, which all learned men spoke in those times. In this manner the pilgrims made their way right through France and on through north Italy till they arrived at Rome. This was the main object of their pilgrimage, and here they sojourned for a considerable time. Having obtained the Pope's blessing, they set out once more, directing their steps now towards Tuscany, till at. length they reached the beautiful mountain of Fiesole near Florence, where stood many churches and other memorials of Christian saints and martyrs. They entered the hospice of the monastery, intending to rest there for a week or two, and then to resume their journey. At this time Irish pilgrims and missionaries were respected every- where on the Continent ; and as soon as the arrival of those two became known, they were received with lionour by both clergy and people, who became 192 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND, greatly attached to them for their gentle quiet ways and their holiness of life. It happened aoout the time of their arrival here that the pastor of Fiesole, who was a bishop, died ; and the clergy and people resolved to have Donatns for their pastor. But when they went to him and told him what they wanted, he became frightened ; and trembling greatly he said to them in his gentle humble way : — " We are only poor pilgrims from Scotia, and I do not wish to be your bishop ; for I am not at all fit for it, hardly even knowing your language or your customs." But the more he entreated the more vehemently did they insist : so that at last he consented to take the bishop's chair. This was in or about the year 824. We need not follow the life of St. Donatus further here. It is enough to say that notwithstanding all his fears and his deep humility, he became a great and successful pastor and missionary. For about thirty-seven years he laboured among the people of Fiesole by whom he was greatly loved and revered. Down to the day of his death, which happened about 861 when he was a very old man, he was attended by his affectionate friend Andrew. He is to this day honoured in and around Fiesole as an illustrious saint of those times. His tomb is still shown and regarded with much veneration : and in the old town there are several other memorials of him.''- * A deliiiled and reverent and very interesting account of Donatus's work in Fiesole, of the legends told about him, and of the memorials of him still preserved there will be found in Miss Margaret Stokes's book " Six Months in the Apennines." ST. DONATUS, BISHOP OF FIESOLE, 193 Like St. Columkille, Donatns always cherished a tender regretful love for Ireland ; and like him also he wrote a short poem in praise of it which is still preserved. It is in Lafcin^ and the following is a translation of part of it made by a Dublin poet (the Eev. William Dunkin) a century and a half ago : — Far westward lies an isle of ancient fame, By n;itiu-e bless'd ; and Scotia is her name Enroil'd in books* : exhaiistless is her store Of veiny silver and of golden ore.f Her fruitful soil for ever teems with wealth, With gemsj her waters, and her aii- with healtii ; Her verdant fields with milk and honey flow§ ; Her woolly fleeees|| vie with virgin snow ; Her waving furrows float with bearded corn ; And arms and arts her envied sons adorn ID No savage bear with lawless fury roves, Nor fiercer lion through her peaceful groves ; No poison there infects, no scaly snake Creeps through the grass, nor frog annoys the lalce ;** An island worthy of its pious race. In war triumphant, and unniatch'd in peace ! * I.e., Scotia is the name by which it is known in books. Scotia was one of the names of Ireland ; but at home the natives always called it Erin. t Ireland had mines <>i gold in old times ; and silver was also found. Great numbers of Irish gold ornaments, found from time to time in the earth, are now preserved in museums. J Pearls were then found in many Irish rivers ; as they are sometimes to this day. ^ The Venerable Eede, a great English historian writing in the eighth century, calls Ireland " a land flowing with milk and honey." II Ireland was noted for the plenty and goodness of its wool. H Ireland had great warriors and many learned men and skilful artists. ** See page 5, above. O 194 THE WONDERS OF IRKLAND. SOME PUZZLES AND CAUTIONS IN INTERPRETING IRISH LOCAL NAMES. In no country in the world is there so large a proportion of the names of places intelligible as in Ireland. This may be accounted for partly by the fact that the names are nearly all Gaelic, which has been the language of the country without a break from the time of the first colonies till the introduction of English, and is still the spoken language over a large area, so that the names never lost their significance ; and partly that a very large number of the names are recorded in their correct original forms in our old Gaelic books. But, even with these helps, we have still a considerable number of local names whose meanings we cannot discover. In my two volumes on " Irish Names of Places," I have confined myself to those names of whose meanings I had unquestionable evidence of one kind or another ; but it may be interesting to pass in review here a few of those names that came across me whose meanings I was unable to determine. Where names do not bear their interpretation plainly on their face in their present printed anglicised forms, there are two chief modes of determining their meanings ; — either to hear them pronounced as living words, or to find out their oldest forms in ancient Gaelic documents : in either case you can generally determine the meaning. But still there are names — and not a few — about which we are in the dark, though we can hear them pronounced, or find them written in old books. SOME PUZZLES IN IRISH LOCAL NAMES. 195 Aud here it is necessary to observe that once you hear a name distinctly pronounced by several intelligent old people who all agree, or find it plainly written in manuscripts of authority, if in either case it is not intelligible, you are not at liberty to alter it so as to give it a meaning, unless in rare exceptional cases, and with some sound reason to justify the change. It is by indulging in this sort of license that etymologists are most prone to error, not only in Gaelic, but in all other languages. Let us look at an example of this vicious procedure. There are many places in Ireland called Templenoe or Templenua, a name quite plain and simple, meaning "new-church," so called in each case to distinguish the building from some older church in the neighbourhood ; exactly lilie Kilnoe or Kilnue (" New Church "), which is also a common townland name. There is a parish called Templenoe near Kenmare in Kerry, taking its name from an old church still existing. Ask the old people of the place to pronounce the name, and they always say " Templenoe," never anything else (except perhaps a few who have been recently perverted by the new and spurious book learning detailed here). Or look through written Irish documents in which the place is mentioned — especially songs — and you always find it written Templenua. But a name which means nothing more than " New Church " was too prosy and commonplace a designation in the eyes of certain local antiquarians — some of them good Irish scholars too ; and in order to connect the old Church — for its greater honour — with the Blessed Virgin, they iyivented a form of the name which never had any 196 THE WONDERS Ot' IREI,AND. existence at all anywhere outside themselves — Temple-na-hOighe (pronounced Temple-na-hoe), which would mean the " Temple or Church of the Virgin." The discussion was carried on in print some twenty- five or thirty years ago with mighty learning, drowned in a whole deluge of conjecture and guesswork, which had no more limit or law than the flood of Noah. I think the disputants in the end settled down to Teniple-na-hOir/he, blissfully oblivious of the fact that there are many other places called Templenoe, which, like this one, were — and are — called correctly, by the peasantry, who had the name from their grandfathers, as well as in writing. This is the sort of spurious etymology, which, a century ago or more, made the treatment of our antiquities the laughing stock, not only of England, but of all Europe. Eut the sky is clearer now ; though we come across still — now and then — some wild freaks of etymology, dancing before our eyes like a daddy -long-le;/s on a window-pane. We are not able to tell, with any degree of certainty, the meaning of the name of Ireland itself, or of any one of the four provinces. Our old writers have legends to account for all ; but these legends are quite worthless as etymological authorities, except perhaps the legend of the origin of the name of Leinster, which has a historical look about it."'' The oldest native form of the name of Ireland is Erin or Heriu. But in the ancient Greek, Latin, Breton and Welsh forms of the name, the first syllable &', is represented by two syllables, with a h, v, or w * See my Irish Names of Places, vol. i., page 93. SOME PUZZLER IN IRTSH LOCAL NAMES. 107 sound :- — Gr. and Lat., Iberia or Hiberii, Hihernia Jouernia (Ivernia) ; Welsh and Breton, Yicerddon, Iwerdon, Iverd(yn. From this it may be inferred, with every appearance of certainty, that the native name was originally Ihheriu, Eberiu, Ivcriu, Hiberiu, Hiveriu, or some such form ; but for this there is no native manuscript authority, even in the very oldest of our writings. Beyond this, all is uncertainty. Dr. Whitley Stokes suggests that this old form may be connected with Sanscrit avara, western; but this, though possibly right, is still conjecture. The name Erin has been explained iarin, western land ; or iar-inis, western island. Zeuss conjectures iar-rend, or iar-renn, modern iar-reann, western island or country; and Pictet regards the first syllable of the form Ivernia as being the Celtic word ibh, land, tribe. Pictet took the word ibh from O'Reilly, whereas there is no nominative singular word ibh in the Irish language : ibh or nibh is merely the dative plural of ua or o, a grandson. Max Miiller (Lectures on the Science of Language, I. 245) thinks he sees in Erin or Erixi a trace of the name of the primitive Aryan people. But all these latter conjectures are almost certainly wrong. The name of Navan, in Meath, has long exercised Ii'ish etymologists — including even O'Donovan. This greatest of all Irish topographers identified it at the time he was employed on the Ordnance Survey with Nuachonybliail, which is often mentioned liy the Annalists ; or perhaps it would be more correct to say that he showed beyond doubt that Nuachongbhail stood where Navan now stands. Nuachonrjhhail signifies new habitation, from mm, 198 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. new ; and conybhail, a habitation. This long name would be sounded Noo-hong-i-al ; and elsewhere in Ireland it has been softened down to Noughaval and Nohoval. L is often changed to n in Irish names, and if we admit that this has taken place here, and that the iiiiddle h sound has been omitted (which it often is, as we see in Drogheda for Droghed-aha, Drumlane for Drumlahan, &c.), we shall have the (onn Nocan; and we know that in some old documents, written in English, the place is called Novane. But another very different, and indeed a far more interesting origin for the name suggests itself. We are told in several of our most ancient legendary records, that Heremon son of Miled or Milesius, while still living in Spain, before the Milesian expedition to Ireland, married a lady named Odhhha [Ova] who became the mother of three of his children. After a time he put her away and married Tea, from whom in after time, according to the legendary etymology, Tea-mur or Tara derived its name. When Heremon came to Ireland, Odhhha followed him and her children, and soon after her arrival died of grief on account of her repudiation by her husband. Her three children raised a mound to her memory, which was called Odhhha after her ; and from this again was named the territory of Odhhha which lay round Navan, and which in after ages was known as the territory of the O'Heas. This mound we know was (and is still) near the place on which Navan now stands ; and like all sepulchral mounds, it must have contained an artificial cave in which the remains were deposited. We know that the present colloquial Irish name of Navan is an SOME PUZZLES IN IRISH LOCAL NAMES. 199 7(ai}iiJi, "the cave " : this )iame is still remembered by the old people, and we find it also in some of our more modern Irish annals. We may fairly conclude that the cave here meant is that in which Queen Odlibha has rested from her sorrows for three thousand years ; and it may be suspected that iiaimh, though a natural name under the circum- stances, is a corruption from Odiibha, as both have nearly the same sound ; in fact the modern pronun- ciation varies between an Uamh and an Odlihha. Another element of difficulty is the fact that in the Annals of Lough Key the place is called An Umama — "The Umamd" — which seems to show that the old writer was as much puzzled about the name as we are, and wrote it down honestly as best he could, without attempting to twist it into an intel- ligible word, as many modern writers would do w'iihout hesitation. This form Umamd is probably evolved from the old form Odhhha — at least I shall regard it so. Now, from which of these three words, Nnachonr/- bliail, Odhhha, or A71 Uaimh, is the name of Na^van derived ; for it is certainly derived from one or an- other of the three ? The first n of Navan (as repre- senting an uaimh) is the Irish article an, contracted to 9?, as it usually is ; and this is still remembered, even by the English-speaking people, for Navan has been and is still often called 77;^ Navan. But this fact might apply to any one of the three derivations. In the case of Navan coming from Nnachongbhail, the first n of this Irish name was mistaken for the article ; just as in the case of Oufjhaval in Sligo, Mayo, and Queen's County, in which the initial n 200 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. has been dropped by the people, who mistook it for the article, the proper name being Noughaval, i.e. Nitaehonr/bhail ; and as to Odhbha and Uaimh, the article is there to the present day annexed to both. The presence of the last n of Navan is quite com- patible with the derivation from either Odhbha or An Uaimh, for it is the termination of an oblique form, and as a matter of fact uaimh is often written and pronounced uamhaiiin, as in the case of the name of the village of Ovens, west of Cork city, which is really Uamhainn, i.e., caves, from the great limestone caves near the village, and either 'n-Odhbhan or 'n- Uamhainn would sound almost exactly the same as the old English name, Novane. The change from NiiachonrjbhaH to Novane looks too violent, though possible, and I am disposed to believe that Queen Odhbha's name still lives in the name " Navan." The people having lost all tra- dition of Heremon's repudiated queen, and not understanding what Odhbha meant, mistook it for Uaimh, which has nearly the same sound, and which was quite applicable, as the cave was there before their eyes, so they prefixed the article and used Uamhainn (as elsewhere) for Uaimh, the whole Irish name, n-Uamhainn (pronounced Noovan), being Anglicized to Novane, which ultimately settled down to Navan. But this is by no means certain, and until we discover more decided authorities the name will continue doubtful and tantalizing. Granard, in the county Longford, is mentioned in the Tain-bo-Chuailgne in Lcabhar-na-hUidhre (p. 67, col. a, line 30), a book written a.d. 1100. In the text it is written Grdnairud, which is the oldest form SOME PUZZLES IN IRISH LOCAL NAMES. 201 of the name accessible to us, and a gloss immediately over the word — " .i. Granard indiu " (" namely Granard to-day ") — identifies Grdnairud with the present Granard. Moreover, the gloss was written at the same time as the text, so that the name had taken the form Granard 800 years ago, Grdnairud being a still older form. If we were profane enough to take liberties with this grand old text, we could easily, by a very slight twist, change Grdnairud to an intelligible word ; but there it stands, and no one can tell what it means. But a name may be plain enough as to its meaning — may carry its interpretation on its face — and still we may not be able to tell what gave rise to it — why the place was so called. There are innumerable names all over the country subject to this doubt ; but in these cases a little more liberty of conjecture is allowable. Moreover, local inquiry among the most intelligent of the old inhabitants often clears up the doubt. Still there are hundreds of names that remain, and will always remain, obscure in this respect. The name of the village of Sneem, in Co. Kerry, to the west of Kenmare, is a perfectly plain Gaelic word, and universally understood in the neighbour- hood — Snaid/tm [snime] , a knot. The intelligent old people of the place say that the place got its name from a roundish grass-covered rock, rising over a beautiful cascade in the river just below the bridge, where the fresh water and the salt water meet. When the tide is in, this rock presents the appear- ance of a .maidhm or knot over the stream. This is not unlikely. But there is another name formed 202 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. from the same word — just one other in all Ireland, so far as I am aware— the origin of which it is not so easy to discover. This is Sniranagorta, near the village of Bally more in Westmeath, which is a real puzzle, though its meaning is plain enough, govt or gortci, hunger or famine: Snimnngorta, the "knot of hunger." So also, there are places called " Frossa," which is an anglicized form of the Irish Frasa, " showers." But why are these places called in Irish " Showers " ? Perhaps the name of the "Caha Mountains " (i.e. " showery mountains) ", between Kenmare and Bantry, may give some help (Names of Places, II. 153). " Frosses " in Antrim is the same name, only with the English plural termination. I will leave these names and others like them to exercise the judgment of the readers. Sometimes a single glance at the place clears up the matter. A few years ago I saw for the first time, from the railway carriage, Ballydehob (" The Ford of the two mouths ") in Cork, which enlightened my ignorance (See my Names of Places, i, 253). Just at the bridge, where the ford stood in old times, the river divides in two, forming a little delta, and enters the sea by two months. See also Lough Avaul in Names of Places, i. 4. As giving examples of the doubts and difficulties attending the investigation of local etymologies, and of the extreme caution with which the investigator must proceed, this short sketch may be of some use to the younger and less experienced students who are labouring to master the language, the local names, and the antiquities of Ireland. SOME I'UZZLES IN IRISH LOCAL NAMES. 203 In addition to my two volumes on " Irish Names of Places" (in wliich are explained the names of 20,000 or 80,000 different places) there is room for at least one more volume. Whoever undertakes the very serious task of writing this will have aids that I had not : especially the Rev. Dr. Hogan's great work " Onomasticon Goedelicum " ; " Early Irish Population-Groups" (Proc. R. I. Acad.) by Pro- fessor John MacNeill ; and " The Place-Names of Decies," by the Rev. P. Power. 204 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. GARRET MAC ENIRY. A TALE OF THE MUNSTER PEASANTRY. [I WROTE this little story when I was very young, and put it aside for some years. It was published in the year 1857, in a local newspaper, "The Tipperary Leader"— over the pen-name " Carnferay " : my first appearance in print. It represents faithfully the dialect of the Limerick peasantry of seventy years ago, which I think is still much the same as it was then. Most or all of the scenes and incidents are depicted from real life, as I witnessed them in my boyhood and youth. As the Palatines figure in this story a few words about them will not come amiss. The Palatines were German Protestants from the Palatinate of the Upper Rhine. In the beginning of the eighteenth century, great numbers of them were brought to England, where they were settled on farms at low rents. From England a number were brought to Ireland by Sir Thomas Southwell (or "Lord Southwell," as I heard him called) of Limerick, who settled them about Rathkeale. From this place again many families were transferred to Glenosheen, Ballyorgan, and Garranleash near Kilfinane, where the landlord, the Eight Hon. Silver Oliver, gave them small plots at trifling rents, with help to build their houses. In my time there was a popular rhyme : — " In the year seventeen hundred and nine In came the brass-colored Palatine From the ancient banks of the Swabian Ehine." In Glenosheen the land given them was unoccu- GARRET MAX3 ENIRY. 205 pied, so that there were no evictions — Oliver took care of that ; and as the place was mostly wooded they had to clear the bush before tilling their little farms. At the time of their arrival and for many years subsequently, they had several customs that seemed very strange to the natives : — their dress was made of canvas, even to the shoes — except the soles ; they ate "sour krout " (a preparation of cabbage); and slept between two feather beds. This is the account that I had in my early days, as handed down by the old people ; but these peculiarities had all disappeared long before my time. They were dark yellow and rather swarthy in complexion, as are most of their descendants to this day. As to religion, they were all Methodists : but they attended the little Protestant church, as they were too few to be able to aflbrd a church and pastor of their own. But they often engaged the services of a Methodist preacher for a short time. He was enter- tained in the houses of the well-to-do by turns, and they treated him hospitably : in fact, he lived on the fat of the land while he was among them. As I remember them, they were steady, sober, and industrious : good farmers : understood gardening ; kept bees ; and were fond of making pastry.''^ In my early time Glenosheen had a mixture of Catholics and Protestants (chiefly Palatines) about half and half, and we got on very well together : in recalling the kindly memories of my boyhood com- panions. Palatines come up as Avell as Catholics. * Gerald Griffin, who knew the Palatines well, depicts their c.haractur truly in his story, " Suil dhiiv the Coiner." 206 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. The following were some of the prevailing Palatine family names in my neighbourhood seventy years ago : — Bovenizer, Alltimes or Alton, Stuffie (Stoffel), Young, Glaizier, Ruttle,Ligier(Ligonier), Heck, Bark- man (Berchmans), Strough (with a strong guttural at the end), Fizzell, Shoultiss, Delmege. But of these not more than four or five arc extant now : all the rest have been cleared out by death or emigration.] The Ballyhoura Mountains extend for several miles on the borders of the counties of Cork and Limerick. Commencing near Charleville, they stretch away towards the east, consisting of a succession of single peaks with lone and desolate valleys lying between, covered with heath or coarse grass, where for ages the silence has been broken only by the cry of the heath-cock or the yelp of the fox echoing among the rocks that are strewn in wild confusion over the sides of the mountains. They increase gradually in height towards the eastern extremity of the range, where they are abruptly terminated by the majestic Seefin, which projecting forwards — its back to the Avest and its face to the rising sun — seems placed there to guard the desolate solitudes behind it. Towards the east it overlooks a beautiful and fertile valley, through which a little river winds its peaceful course to join the Funsheon ; on the west "Blackrock of the eagle " rears its front — a sheer precipice — over Lyre-na-Freaghawn, a black heath-covered glen that divides the mountains. On the south it is separated by Lyre-na-Grena the " valley of the sun," from "the Long Mountain," GARRET MAC KNIRY. 207 which stretches far away towards Glenanaar ; and immediately in front, on the opposite side of the valley, rises Barna Geeha, up whose sides cultivation has crept almost to its summit. Just under the eastern face of Seefin, at its very base, and extend- ing even a little way up the moantain steep, reposes the peaceful little village of Glenosheen.*' Gentle reader, go if you can on some sunny morning in summer or autumn — let it be Sunday morning if possible — to the bottom of the valley near the bank of the little stream, and when you cast your eyes up to the village and the great green hill over it, you will admit that not many places even in our own green island can produce a prettier or more cheerful, prospect. There is the little hamlet, with its white- washed cottages gleaming in the morning beams, and from each a column of curling smoke rises slowly straight up towards the blue expanse. The base of the mountain is covered with wood, and several clumps of great trees are scattered here and there through the village, so that it appears imbedded in a mass of vegetation, its pretty cottages peeping out from among the foliage. The land on each side rises gently towards the mountain, its verdure interspersed by fields of blossomed potatoes laughing with joy, or of bright yellow corn, or more beautiful still, little patches of flax clothed in their Sunday dress of light blue.f Seefin rises directly over the village, a perfect * See "Sir Donall " and "The White Ladye" in Robert D«-yer Joyce's " Ballads of Irish Chivahy " for all these places commemorated in verse. t I'lax was grown there then (184.5) ; but there is no flax now (1011). 208 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. cone ; white patches of sheep are scattered here and there over its bright sunny face ; and see, far up towards the summit, that long line of cattle, just after leaving Lyre-na-Grena, where they were driven to be milked, and grazing quietly along towards Lyre-na-Freaghawn. The only sounds that catch your ear are, the occasional crow of a cock, or the exulting cackle of a flock of geese, or the softened low of a cow may reach you, floating down the hill side ; or the cry of the herdsman, as with earnest gestures he endeavours to direct the movements of the cattle. But hear that merry laugh. See, it comes from the brow of the hill where the women of the village are just coming into view, returning from Lyre-na-Grena after milking their cows. Each carries a pail in one hand and a spancel in the other, and as they approach the village, descending the steep pathway— the "Dray-road," as it is called- — that leads from " The Lyre," a gabble of voices mingled with laughter floats over the village, as merry and as happy as ever rung on human ear. Observe now they arrive at the village, the group becomes thinner as they proceed down the street, and at length all again is quietness. Happy village ! Pleasant scenes of my childhood ! How vividly at this moment do I behold that green hill-side, as I travel back in imagination to the days of my boyhood, when I and my little brother Kobert, and our companions — all now scattered over this wide world — ranged joyful among the glens in search of birds' nests, or climbed the rocks at its summit, eager to plant ourselves on its dizzy elevation. Why did ambition tempt me to leave my peaceful home ? GARRET MAC ENTRY, 209 Why did I abandon that suuuy valley, where I might have travelled gently down the vale of life, free from those ambitious aspirations, those struggles with fortune that only destroy my peace ? But though exiled far from my home, my heart shall never cease to point to its loved retirement ; and ever, as release from business grants me the opportunity, I shall return to. wander over the scenes of my infancy, to hold communion once again with the few companions of my boyhood that remain, and to think with feelings of kindly regret on those that are gone. And when weary from the incessant struggles of life, I seek an asylum from its turmoil, grant me, oh, kind Providence, to spend my declining years in that beloved valley, and to rest at length my aged head in the grave of my fathers on the green hill of Ardpatrick.* About a century and a-half ago, that part of the valley where the village now stands was almost uninhabited. It was covered with a vast forest of oaks, which not only clothed the valley, but extended more than half way up to the summits of the sm'- rounding hills ; and to this day the inhabitants will tell you, in the words of their fathers, that " a person could travel from Ardpatrick to Darra (about five miles) along the branches of the trees," No human habitation relieved the loneliness, save only one small cottage that stood near the base of the hill. It was inhabited, from times too remote for even the memory of tradition to reach, by a family named * All this sentiment was natural enough for a young man, liomesick, after leaving bis native place ; but sixty years or more will bring changes of feeling (April, 1911). 2l0 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. MacEniry, descendants of that princely sept that once possessed the Ballyhoura Mountains with many miles of the surrounding country. About three acres of land just in front of the house, and a small garden in the rear, had been rescued by some of the early dwellers from the grasp of the forest ; the produce of these, with the assistance of a cow or two, and a few sheep and goats that browsed on the mountain side, afforded each succeeding family a means of subsistence ; and they lived as happy as the days are long in the quiet of their mountain solitude. Garret Mac Eniry was the occupant of the little tenement at the period of which we speak. His locks were whitened by the frost of seventy winters, but age had not deprived him of the firm tread and the erect gait of his youth. Although of humble position and accustomed to daily labour on his little farm, there was a certain dignity stamped on his countenance that spoke descent from a distin- guished race, and gained for him the respect of all who knew him. He had married young the daughter of a neighbouring farmer, and had seen a family spring up around him ; but he had scarcely begun to enjoy his happiness when it vanished from his grasp. His children died one after another ; and now, with the exception of his aged partner, all that his heart had ever prized slept in the lonely churchyard of Ardpatrick. His disposition was once buoyant and cheerful ; but the death of his children and the con- sciousness that he was the last of an expiring race had long marked his face with a settled expression of pensiveness. Mary his wife was old and feeble, for grief had done its work ; she was devotedly GARHET MAC ENIRY. 211 attached to Garret, and this alone prevented her from wishing to sleep with her children in Ard- patrick ; and so they lived on from year to year. Garret still rose with the lark and worked on his little farm ; and Mary was still able to manage all their domestic affairs. Their attachment to each other had become, if possible, more deep as time advanced — Mary's increasing helplessness calling forth from Garret all those latent affections that lie sleeping in the depths of every human heart till wakened into life and strength by the sufferings of some beloved object. The solitude of their mountain home v^^as at lena;th broken. The Right Hon. Silver Oliver brought twelve Palatine families from Eathkeale to reside in Gleno- sheen, giving each, at some trifling rent, a house and a small farm of land. The houses were built just under Seefin, six on each side of the road, forming a little street which ran straight up against the hill — the germ from which gradually arose the pleasant little village of Glenosheen. On each side of the village the trees were cut down, and the cleared land was parcelled out in small lots of about three acres each, one of which was appropriated to each Palatine family. In a few months from the commencement of the work the strangers were settled down in their new abode, and the valley exhibited the cheerful signs of industry. Garret's cottage lay a few perches to the west of the village, and he was left in undis- turbed possession. His prying Palatine neighbours were not long in winning his acquaintance, and in discovering from the other inhabitants of the valley, his whole history. p2 212 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. He neither courted nor repelled their advances, but was uniformly quiet and obliging, and he soon gained their esteem and confidence. Only on very rare occasions did he enter any of their cottages, but when he did they were really rejoiced to welcome him, and he was sure to be offered a plate of plum pudding or some of those other delicacies for the manufacture of which some of the Palatine women are to this day famed. The children too though they were silent in his presence, yet loved to steal near him in hopes that he would rub their heads, for he was gentle and kind to them. Mary was equally a favourite among the women, and when Garret was out at work during the day she was hardly ever alone, for they came and sat with her while they knitted. Though Garret had at first regretted to see the quiet of his home disturbed by these strangers, and though there were many peculiarities in their manners that appeared to him harsh and rude, yet on the whole he was not displeased with his altered circumstances, and two or three years passed away agreeably enough. One evening when Garret returned from work somewhat earlier than usual, intending to look after a few sheep which he had on the mountain, he found Mary alone : she was more silent than usual, and he thought she looked ill. " Mary acushla," said he, " is there anything amiss with you ? — I think you don't look well this evenin." " Why thin indeed Garret," she replied, " to tell the thruth, I didn't feel too well these couple o' days, but I didn't like to tell you afore, for fear you might be throubled. I don't know how it is, but there's GARRET BIAC ENIRY. 213 something quare comin' over me that I never felt afore, an' there's a weight here on my heart I can't get rid of. The Lord sind, Garret avourneen," said she doubtingly, " that it wouldn't be anything bad." " Mary agragal you're takin' id too much to heart," said he, " you wor never used to sickness, and a little thing frightens you ; but you'll see there's no danger. Wait till to-morrow, an' I'll engage with the help of God you'll be as well as ever you wor." " Well, God is good, glory be to His holy name. I hope it may turn out as you're sayin'. But sure Garret avourneen, 'tis afore us all, praise be to God, an' His will must be done anyway." This delicate allusion to the possibility of real danger caused a thrill of anguish to shoot through his breast. Suppressing his emotion however he again assumed his former cheerful encouraging tone, and replied — " Mary, a sullish machree, you're too much down- hearted ; indeed I can't bear to hear you spakin' in that way, for id goes through my heart, so id does. I'll stay wid you all this evenin', an' I'll engage you'll see, please God 'tis only a little fit of cowld or some other thrifiin' thing." Her presentiments proved to be too true. That evening she was obliged to take to bed, and next morning her illness had increased to an alarming extent : symptoms of fever set in, and her mind occasionally wandered. All this soon became known to their neighbours, who heard it with real concern, and the cottage was never without visitors. For several days she lingered, but her strength gradually 214 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. sank, and now all hopes of her recovery were re- linquished. She requested that Father Quinlan might be sent for ; he came, and she received the last rites of the church. Garret was in a state of utter despon- dency ; he neglected everything, and was with difficulty prevailed upon to taste a morsel of food ; but he never wept, and he spoke but little. He spent his Avhole time either in sitting by the bed-side or in walking silently about his little farm. He wandered from place to place, stopping with clasped hands and gazing at every object with which the memory of Mary was in any way associated. There was a little green at a short distance behind the house, with a seat made of sods at the upper end of it ; it was a pretty nook, cut as it were out of the forest. The trees completely overshadowed it, and except when the morning sun peeped in beneath the branches it was screened from his beams. Long ago, Garret and Mary loved to sit together on this little bank and listen to the song of the birds in the trees over them ; and when their children grew up, the whole family often left the house on a Sunday morn- ing to enjoy themselves in this spot, the hearts of the parents overflowing with happiness, as under the laughing beams of the morning sun their little ones gambolled on the green before them. Garret now haunted this spot continually ; he ended every walk by seating himself for a short time on that little bank, where he had spent so many happy hours. On the evening of the fourth day several persons sat in the cottage, some of Garret's old acquaintances, and several Palatines ; he himself sat by the bedside. They were all silent, or only talked occasionally in GARKET MAC ENIKY. 215 hushed whispers, for they sat by a death bed. Mary had nearly lost all consciousness of those around her, and her mind wandered in a bewildered and perplexed chaos. She spoke at intervals in a low voice ; her words wandered wildly without connection, over the events of her past life ; and she spoke of each as if it were of recent or present occurrence. Quick as lightning her mind darted after every new flash of thought, until she uttered a word, or perhaps her eye accidentally caught some external object that awoke some long slumbering association, and turned her thoughts into a new channel. The aged man bent silently over her, catching every word and watching anxiously for a gleam of returning con- sciousness. Occasionally she paused, looking per- plexed, and seemed as if she endeavoured to recollect herself ; then uttered a few words, or asked a question, that seemed to indicate the momentary return of sanity. Here he would speak to her, reminding her of his presence and asking in a low voice if she knew him, in a most gentle and affectionate manner; but again her eyes assumed their meaningless vacancy, and her scattered replies showed that the faint gleam of returning reason was again lost in the gloom of disordered imagination. In the intervals of her speaking she occasionally moved her right hand lightly over the bed-clothes, as if feehng for some- thing ; then she would catch them in her fingers, lifting and arranging them, in that childish way that throws such a sickening chill on the heart of any- one who witnesses a death bed. " Yes Garret, there it is comin' home — there is the little lamb you was lookin' for; the poor little crathur 216 THE WONDEIIS OF IRELAND. is almost dead with the hunger. And look, Garret — oh, look ! little Jimmy is dhrivin' her. Sure I knew it was Jimmy. Come here, Jimmy alanna an' kiss your poor mother that's a long time lookin' for you and cryin' afther you. But — no ! this isn't my darlin' boy wid the two blue eyes — no, this isn't Jimmy — (a pause) "-== * '■''• But och ; sure I'm ravin' — this burnin', this burnin' (putting her hand to her forehead) is sindin' me mad. Jimmy alanna haun, sure you're sleepin' undher the whitethorn bush near the ould wall in Ardpatrick. I heard the clay soundin' on your little coffin, an' I saw your father cryin' afther you unknown to everyone. But I saw him when he purtended to turn his head to look for the cow ; poor Bawneen ! I reared her wid my own two hands. Garret, Bawneen isn't milked yet — dhrive the crathur in an' cut some — * * * Oh ! this burnin'. God above gi' me a little relief * * * Garret, avourneen, Garret ?" " What do you want, Mary darlin' ; don't you know me ; sure here I am at the bed near you." " Garret, I'm sick, very sick, but I didn't like to tell you afore, for I knew you'd be throubled. But I can't keep it any longer. I'm sick — I'm going to die — to go to heaven to see our poor little Jimmy an' Mary, and all our poor little crathurs and to see my poor father an' mother too. "^^ * ^' Don't be cryin' so much, mother dear, sure I'll come to see you often, an' Garret will come wid me, whin we'll be livin' in our own nice cottage. An' father, little Eileen will comb your white hair instead o' me. * * ''' Look, Garret, look ! how nice they look in their new dresses, the blessed little darlins. Garret, I'm very GARRET MAC ENIRY. 217 I'd be very happy — ouly for this — this — terrible burnin'." Here she paused — her face contracted, and her body writhed, as if she suffered intensely. For a considerable time after this she remained apparently insensible ; at length she began to speak again, but her words were more detached, and her voice was scarcely audible, tho' Garret bent his face close to hers. " Garret, the night is comin' on. I see it growin' dark — I'm going to see — to sleep with little Jimmy — poor little fellow — I'd like to sleep wid him under the old whitethorn bush * * * I'mgoin' — Garret— I'm lavin' you— for ever. An' I know — you'll be lonesome — when I'm gone "•' * * I'm goin' to see — our little crathurs — but — Garret — Garret avourneen — I'd like — to stay wid you — a little — a little longer." She ceased — closed her eyes — breathed one long sigh — and her spirit winged its way to heaven. Among the peasantry, as soon as the last struggle of the sufferer is over, the men retire, and the women *' lay out " the corpse and arrange the room. When this is done, the female friends and relatives of the deceased gather round the bed and commence the usual wild and, musical lament, in which all the women present, and — if the person be a favourite among the people — many of the men too, usually join, all swaying slowly backwards and forwards over the bed. It is I believe generally considered by those not intimately acquainted with the peasantry, that this is merely a kind of mechanical habit, and that all, with the exception of the immediate relatives of the deceased, join in the external manifestation 218 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. of sorrow, while they are in reahty utterly indifferent. But this assertion, if not totally unfounded, needs much qualification. It is my belief — and I have had extensive opportunity of judging — that in general persons join in the lament because they cannot help it, and that they really feel what they express. To every human heart, however sluggishly proof against the influence of emotion, sorrow is more or less contagious ; it is one of those kind dispensations of Providence that helps to smooth the rugged ills of life ; for it teaches or rather forces us to sympathize with our neighbour in his sufferings. Look on a wretched mother, crushed and broken-hearted, bending over the body of her son, cut down in the prime of man- hood — her face a picture of hopeless misery — her whole soul one rayless blank of despair, and see if your heart will not bleed for the anguish of the poor mourner. The heart of an Irish peasant at least will. That heart, so impulsive, so keenly alive to emotion, ever gushes with sympathetic sorrow at the sight of another's grief ; and the peasant women, and often- times the men, too, raise the wild keen, not to comply merely with a cold custom, but to give vent to the uncontrolled impulses of their own kindly hearts. The fact of their joining in the laugh, or song, or sport, of their companions immediately after, is no proof, of their want of feeling ; it is only an illustra- tion of the facility with which their changeable temperaments can pass from one extreme of passion to another, according to the influences with which they are surrounded. Garret was led mechanically from the bedside to the little kitchen, where he walked backwards and GAERET MAO ENIRY. 219 forwards ; his hands clasped, his eyes fixed on vacancy, and seeming totally unconscious of what passed around him. When the necessary arrange- ments were completed, the women collected around the bed and began to cry, and the sudden burst of lamentation appeared to arouse him to a sense of the reality. Among the peasantry, there are many men who, no matter how near and dear the deceased relative may be, will not yield to their feelings so far as to join in this cry ; for they consider that it is, or should be, beneath the firmness of a man. Garret was one of these — he did not join the mourners. Among the children of the village there was one that had always been a special favourite with him, because he fancied that its little broken accents, and fair hair, resembled these of his lost child Mary. This child happened to be in the room with its mother at the time, and Garret took her in his arms, and sat on the corner of the table. When bending over her, and rocking himself backward and forward as if in the act of soothing her to sleep, he com- menced in a voice low and softened by sorrow, to sing his favourite nurse song. It was one of these beautifully poetic effusions that gush from the parental feeling of the Irish heart; with air wild and breathing throughout a tone of touching sadness. How powerfully old memories are awakened by unexpectedly hearing some long-forgotten old tune •' we used to love in days of boyhood," those only can tell whose hearts the world has not steeled against those softer feelings of our nature. No sooner had Garret commenced to sing than all the vanished happiness of his former life presented itself 220 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. vividly before his mind in quick succession ; then he passed on to his present condition ; he saw himself utterly desolate, the sole survivor, the last wreck of his race ; the full sense of his misery rushed across his mind like the blast of the desert. His words became indistinct ; the whole gradually lost the character of a song ; his voice trembled, failed, and at length the old man's firmness gave way before the tide of feeling, and he burst out into a loud and long fit of weeping. The other men in the room did not attempt to stop or soothe him ; for they — includ- ing even the rough Palatines who were unaccustomed to indulge their feelings so openly — were themselves deeply affected at this outbreak of sorrow.* The Palatines had resided sufficiently long among the Irish to adopt many of their habits ; they attended wakes and funerals, and even joined in the lament over the dead. Garret's cottage was 'thronged that night, both by the villagers and by the more distant inhabitants of the valley. Next day Mary was carried to her resting place on the hill of Ardpatrick ; the funeral attended by all the grown persons of the village. She was laid, as she had requested, under the old whitethorn bush, by the side of her little Jimmy ; and Garret returned for the first time to a lonely house. During the whole troubled period from the last struggle of the sufferer, there is no time at which so keen a sense of their loss is felt by the mourners as when they first enter home after the funeral. The * I witnessed the scene described here ou one occasion when 1 was ii boy, GARRET MAC ENIRY. ^ 221 dreary appearance of the house, all in confusion after the "wake ; the cheerless hearth without its usual blaze — for all attend the funeral, the fires are put out, and the door locked — the complete silence, rendered more chilling by contrast with the hurry and confusion and lamentation that still ring on the ears of the mourners ; but, above all, the sudden recollection, forcing itself vividly on their minds, that there is one absent, abandoned for ever to the cold abode — all these, aided by the bodily exhaustion which want of rest produces, throw a feeling of chilling desolation over the mind, which those only who have experienced it can understand. How intense a feeling of misery Garret felt on first entering his lonely cottage, and seeing Mary's chair empty, and missing her accustomed kind welcome, we shall not attempt to describe. But he resolved that this should be his last night in Glenpsheen ; and he kept his resolution. Garret had one younger brother, to whom he was much attached, and who in early life left his home and settled in some distant part of the country, where he occupied a farm. At that time the means of com- munication between different parts of the country were very imperfect. The country was wooded and thinly populated, and there were few roads except between the larger towns ; so that Garret had never seen his brother since they parted, and for the last eight or ten years had not even heard from him. Once indeed a pedlar, who had travelled in that part of the country about four years before, brought him word that he had heard his brother intended to remove to another locality, still more distant ; so that he was 222 tHE WONDERS OF IRELAND. in a state of uncertainty witli regard to liis place of residence. To him he now however turned his thoughts ; he determined to seek with him an asyhim for his remaining days, and leave a place that only embittered his existence by many painful recol- lections. He had a few articles of household furniture, and some simple agricultural implements left. These he readily disposed of among his neighbours, merely however for the purpose of obtaining whatever trifle of ready money would be necessary to bear the expenses of his journey. Few preparations were necessary, his intention soon became known through the village, and early on that evening he was standing, with a small bundle in his left hand and a stick in his right, surrounded by a group of the villagers taking his farewell of them. Some of the neighbouring farmers were also there. From the beginning they had endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose, and now pressed on him with double earnestness to remain. " Sure, Garret, man alive, can't you stay for a couple o' days, anyway ? You can stop below at the house, an' welcome ; there's a spare feather bed there, that we have no use in life of, an' the ould woman will have a rale Cead milefdilte for you. I'll be bound if you stay wid us for a few days, it '11 wear away, an' may be you'd be continted to remain intirely." " Indeed Tom," said Garret, " I know I'd be welcome to stay with you — you 'an yours never shut your doore in the face of a sthranger, let alone an ould neighbour, the blessin' o' God be on you for id. But indeed Tom, there's no use in thinkin' I could live here ; no, I must go, an' wid God's help I GARRET MAC ENIRY. 223 will. Roger was a good brother wLin we wor both young; he had the big heart o' the MacEnirys in him ; an' I know he'll not refuse to shelther these grey hairs in my ould days." "The deer knows," observed a woman to her neighbour, " 'tis a burnin' shame to let the poor ould crathur go at all, so it is. Sure he's out of his mind clear 'an clane wid throuble, 'an hardly knows what he's doin." " Why thin indeed Nancy afpagal, that's thrue for you, an' I'll go bail he'll be sarry for id yet. But anyway, goodness knows 'tis no wundher the way he's in now, God help him, without a mother's sowl belongin' to him to care for him. Sure after all, Nancy, no one has the nature for a person like one's own, an' God help uz 'tis a sarraful thing to be left all alone. God rest poor Mary's sowl, 'tis she was the good housekeeper in her day, an' the good uarrant to take care of her husband. But anyway Nancy I think we ought to spake to him, along wid the rest, an' thry to make him stop." "Garret," said a grey-headed old man, who took him warmly by the hand, "you're now ould an' haven't the sthrinth to go thro' much, an' you ought to considher what you're about afore you go. 'Tis a hard journey you have afore you, an' many a long road you'll have to thravel, afore you meet wid a Christhen that would as much as say ' God save you.' Indeed the never a one o' me likes the iday of you attemptin' that journey at all at all." In this manner was he earnestly pressed by several persons, but in vain ; Garret, tho' quiet in his dis- position, was resolute in character. But he was deeply affected by their kindness : he tried in vain to 224 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. conquer his emotion, for tears tilled his eyes, as he finally replied : — " Misther O'Brien, God knows but id goes to my heart to refuse you an' all my ould neighbours. Many a long day we all spint together, an' God sees that my heart's nearly broke to be lavin' the ould frinds and the ould hills behind me. I'm goin' now, neighbours, from among ye, an' may the God of Heaven keep ye, that doesn't forget an ould an' frindless man, from bein' ever left solithary like me." They ceased to press him further, and he was on the point of taking his final leave when he encountered another appeal not less powerful than that of his neighbours. Among the many privations which he suflered, death as if tired of persecuting him had left him his dog. He was a great shaggy animal, with huge tail, and hair which was originally nearly black, but which age had converted into a kind of dirty grey. In his more youthful days, before affliction had visited him. Garret was fond of hunting, armed merely with a heavy stick, and always accompanied by Bran. In these excursions, from his great skill and the sagacity of his dog as well as from the abundance of game on the mountain, he was often more successful than the best accoutred sportsman of modern days, with choice brace of pointers. When age and trouble came at last on Garret, he gradually relinquished his favourite sport, but Bran's love of the mountains never ceased. He still continued to resort to his favourite haunts, and almost every day he repaired to the hills alone to chase the game as when his master accompanied GABRET MAC ENIRY. 225 him. He sometimes remained out for two or three days, sleeping on the heath, and subsisting on the prey he managed to catch. In the end however the poor old fellow found this rather a precarious mode of subsistence, for age had blunted the keenness of his nose and stiffened his limbs ; and his visits to the hills became less frequent, though they never alto- gether ceased. On the day before Mary's death he set out on one of his usual excursions, and just as Garret was preparing to go, he returned. When he came to the cottage and found the door closed, he scratched at it as usual when he wanted to be let in. When he found that the door was not opened, he scampered through the garden and round the little farm searching for his master, but not finding him, he returned again to the cottage ; then he scratched violently at the door and listened, walked back to some distance, and looked wistfully at the house, scratched again, whining pitifully, and at length, finding all unsuccessful, he sat down and began to howl in downright agony. ' Suddenly he jumped up, scampered down through the village, and with that extraordinary certainty with which instinct some- times directs these animals to find out their masters even in the most hidden places, he bounded in among the group just as the old man was preparing to depart. Nothing could exceed the wildness of his joy at finding his master so unexpectedly. He jumped upon him, howded and yelped and frisked around him, scampered away to some distance, and instantly returned to jump upon and around him again ; then he would crouch motionless on the ground opposite Q 226 THE WONDEES OF IRELAND. him, and, with a steady eye, look straight in his face for a few moments, then springing suddenly off the ground, would yelp and whine, and play the same gambols over again. A smile — a transient slight gleam of gladness— lighted Garret's features, while a tear stood in his eye, as he looked on his dog, the faithful companion and the only living remnant of his happy days. He had in fact searched closely, inquired, and repeatedly whistled for him that morn- ing : and not being able to obtain any tidings of him, one of his neighbours, by his request, promised to adopt him as his own. This was now rendered unnecessary, as he resolved to take Bran with him. He accordingly set off, with the blessings and regrets of all his acquaintances. It is not our intention to follow Garret through all the incidents of his long and weary journey from the home of his heart. In the evening of the fourth day he found himself approaching the townland where he hoped to find his brother. The country lay along the foot of an extensive range of mountains and was rather thinly populated, but here and there a few comfortable-looking farmers' houses lay scattered at wide intervals. There was one of these that stood a few perches in from the road that presented the appearance of both wealth and comfort. A haggard behind the house, hedged in with whitethorn, was well stocked with newly made stacks of corn, sur- rounding an enormous hayrick ; and in front a large baivn field of several acres extended, through which a pathway led into the house. Into this field the cows werejmt after heinfj driven to be milked ; and it was pleasant to hear the busy sounds that proceeded from GARRRT MAC ENTRY.* 227 the place where all were collected. It was a beautiful evening in autumn — one of those that so often occur at that season, daring a long continuance of dry weather- — clear, serene and silent. The sky was covered all over with a uniform veil of small mottled clouds, perfectly motionless, and spread out at a great height, leaving the lower part of the atmosphere so clear that the outlines and features of the most distant hills appeared with perfect distinctness. Almost the whole family had retired to the field. The girls were busily engaged in milking— each her favourite cow — and one or two of them were singiner their milking songs ; " the boys " — viz., the servant man and the farmer's two eldest sons — were occupied in preserving order and distributing fresh cut clover among the numerous herd ; the children were playing " highgates " at a little distance; and the farmer himself, a healthy comfortable-looking old man with a face full of contentment and good-nature, walked among them, his left hand in his breeches pocket and a stick in his right, occasionally giving directions, and gazing with placid enjoyment on the busy scene. At this moment their attention was directed to an old man who had just crossed over the stile that led from the road into the field, and who now approached them. His shoes were covered with dust, and he was evi- dently very tired, for he came on slowly and with difficulty ; and though he endeavoured to yield as little as possible, he was obliged to halt slightly and lean on his stick for support at every step. His hair was white, and his face wrinkled with age, and he looked worn and dejected. He was accompanied by a large old dog who appeared as weary and spiritless q2 228 THE WONDERS OF IRELANO. as his master, for he hung his ears and tail, and scarcely raising his head, he trudged along close behind him. The road by which Garret arrived at the place was a lonely mountain one, where for the last two hours he had not met with an individual ; and he now turned his steps towards the farmer's house, as being the first place that presented itself, for the purpose of making inquiry. Behind the house there were several large dogs lying, who now pricked up their ears and eyed the travellers for some time attentively. I suppose they could discover nothing in their appear- ance that looked in any degree pugnacious, for after having gazed at them till they appeared to be satisfied, they proceeded to dispose themselves leisurely in their former lazy attitudes ; and the travellers would probably be allowed to pass quietly, were it not for the malice of a sour-looking cur, one side of whose nose had, from constant practice, permanently curled upwards, into a perpetual grin, exposing his teeth. This wretch chafed and snarled, and succeeded at last in angering his quieter companions to such a pitch that they all suddenly started up and scampered helter-skelter towards them, howling and yelping like a legion of devils. The women who were milking instantly stood up to avoid the danger of being trampled on by the startled cows, while the boys ran toward the dogs, threatening them with their sticks and shouting at them to come back. " Tundher an' ages ! Dick, run, man, run," cried the farmer ; " fly Tom ! — skelp away you omadliawn, an' bring back them divels (bad luck to 'em), afore the poor man will be ate, body an' sowl. Oh ; GARRET MAC ENIRY. 229 murder alive, the life is frigliteued out o' the poor cratliurs. Tliat's id, Dick, leather the thieves ! Faith an' sowl Boxer wait till I ketch you an' if I don't sink the top of my shoe two inches into your ribs, the divel a cotner in Cork " ; and the good old fellow raised his stick and shook it at them as he spoke. Dick and Tom arrived just in time to come between them and their victims, and by shout- ing and leathering succeeded in driving them off. " Lie down Boxer ! Captain ! Captain — ha ! you divel's limb, you'll yowl loud enough now when you're not wantin' but I'll make you yowl a little loudher I'm thinkin.' Hishth do rai/al a veJioonif/" (whack, whack, accompanied by a doleful yelping, and Captain scampered home howling and limping). " Down with you Boxer ! Pincher, I say, you thief o' the world come here !" At length the dogs were all driven home and peace restored. The cur, it must be remarked, like many another cur under similar circumstances, after having provoked the fight, was the first to scamper iugloriously oft" the field, looking furtively behind him when the appearance of the boys with their sticks threatened danger. By this time Garret had arrived at the group. God save ye all, an' God bless the work," said he with as much assumed cheerfulness as he could com- mand. " God save you kindly honest man," said the farmer in good-natured accents ; "the deer knows but I'm ashamed that a stranger can't as much as show his nose inside that stile but thim rogues o' dogs is ready to frighten the life amost out of him." 230 THE WONDERS OF IRELANt). " Oh !" replied Garret, vexed with himself for having been the cause of so much confusion, " 'tis nothin' at all— I never mind the bark of a dog, for I'm well used to id." "Well! honest man you look tired at any rate; sit down here on this bundle o' clover an' take a dlirink. Biddy ahtnna, bring hether two piggins o' the sthriiipins for I'm dead wid the dhruth, an' so is this good man too; I'm thinkin'. Begor, I know what it is to travel myself ; an' many a time when I'd be on a long streel of a road, an' hardly able to wag, I'd give anything for a couple o' good sluf/a o' new milk." "Why thin," said Garret, seating himself as desired near the farmer, who was sitting on another bundle, " as the thruth is best to be towld, I do feel a little fitagued, an' I'll take a dhrink, may God increase you for your kindness. Indeed Sir I'm ould now, and haven't the sthrinth nor the sperrit in me that I had ; sure only for I am, twenty or thirty little miles wouldn't be after knocking me up." " Oh ! Holy Virgin," exclaimed the farmer, look- ing at him in surprise, " an' you're after walkin' thirty miles to-day — an ould man like you ! Stop ! don't dhrink id in that way — 'twoiild kill you to put such stuff into your stomacli after such a walk. Here, Biddy, take tliis kay an' run in, )ii(( colleen (Urns, to the three-cornered cupboard, an' bring me out the black bottle that's stannin' in the right hand corner. Mind, Biddy, the black bottle." " A little dhrop put into id," said he turning again to Garret, " will knock the cowld out of it anyway." " The blessin' o' God be on you," said Garret deeply grateful, " sure I didn't think I'd meet wid GARRET MAC ENIRY. 231 this kindness among strangers, once I left tlie ould neighbours, God be wid 'em. Indeed, Sir, I'm a sthrangerin this part o' thecounthry, an' don't know id at all ; an' I just stepped down to ax." "Oh! the divel a question you'll ax till you dhrink that first ; an' thin you can come in an' rest yourself for a thommxd (a short time), an' we'll get somethin' to ate ; you must be in want of id now after a hard day's walk. An' indeed for the matther o' that, you're too tired to go any farther to-night, an' there's a good feather bed within there to spare, that you'll be welkim to. Sure God is good to me, an' gev me the manes, glory be to His Holy Name (taking off his hat reverently) an' it'll never be said that the sthranger or the thraveller ever turned away from Roger Mac Eniry's doore widout " He started in surprise and alarm, and looked at the old man, who had suddenly dropped the pi" "in from his hand. His body had shot up to its full height, though he still remained sitting — his open hands were thrown a little forward — his mouth half opened — and he stared dazed and astonished at the farmer. For a considerable time he remained per- fectly unconscious of what passed around him. The farmer stood up, and, laying his hand on his shoulder, attempted to rouse him. " Yerra ! honest man, what ails you— sure, murdher alive, I wouldn't say anything for the Avorld that id ofifind you. Oh 1 monotna yee, I'm in dhread he's gettin' into a fit, the Lord purtect uz ! I suppose the crathur is bate all out wid the long journey an' the hardship, an', God help him, may be wid hunger too. Yerra, girls come here and thry " Here he was interrupted by 232 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND, the low accents of Garret. " Roger Mac Eniry, did you say — eli ?" and lie peered closely into his face, "Roger Mac Eniry I Oh, that can't be ; dheeling, that can't be ! You, my fair-haired brother Roger, that used to hunt wid me long ago on the side o' Seefin !" The poor old fellow's senses still wandered. The fact was, he had met no one from whom to make an inquiry within the last six miles ; before that, though all could direct him to the townland, yet no one could tell him of " one Roger Mac Eniry that lived there"; and with that unaccountable tendency to depression that seizes the heart as the moment draws nigh that is to determine success or failure, all hope of finding his brother had very nearly abandoned him. It is therefore not to be wondered at that, worn with the fatigue of a long journey, his mind depressed with sorrow, and harassed by uncertainty approaching to despair, the unexpected discovery of his brother should overcome him. When to this we add that he had always cherished the memory of his brother as he was when they parted ; and though of course he knew that age must have produced the usual effect, yet his memory obstinately refused to change its object, and still recalled the image of " his fair-haired brother Roger, that used to hunt wad him on the side of Seefin." In the sudden perplexity of his feelings he found it impossible to reconcile these traces of his brother that clung to his memory, with the aged man that now stood before him, and for a considerable time he could not bring himself to believe in the reality. It was now, however, the farmer's turn to be surprised. " God of mercy," he exclaimed, as be GARRET MAC ENIRY. 233 grasped Garret's two hauds in his and looked in bis face ; "is it to my own brother I'm spakin' all this while. Garret, a drahaar machree, is it yon. Sure, Garret, I'm Roger, your own brother Eoger ; don't you know me and won't you spake to me ; " for Garret was only beginning to collect together his scattered faculties, though tears streamed plentifully down his wrinkled face. " Garret, avourneen, sure it is I that's here alive an' well, glory be to God for bringin' uz together once more." We shall not attempt to describe further the happiness of the brothers on meeting after so many years' separation, or the joy of the youngsters on finding their " uncle Garret," of whom their father had told them so many stories. For many years they lived together after this, and many a time would they delight the family by relating stories "about ould times " when they lived together in the lonely cottage on Seefin. As for poor Bran he did not long survive separation from his native mountains ; he died, and was buried by the children on the side of a glen, with due funeral honours, and followed to his grave by his old master, who dropped many a tear over him, a tribute to his worth and faithfulness. Garret's grief for Mary softened down at last to pious resignation, but he still cherished her in his memory, and he looked forward with hope to the time when he should go to join her and "his little crathurs." Before he died he made a request which was not refused— " To be carried back again to the ould place, and berrid on the hill of Ardpatrick, undher the ould whitehorn, by the side of Mary." 234 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. THE OLD IRISH BLACKSMITH'S FURNACE. In my two books, " A Social History of Ancient Ireland" and " A Smaller Social History of Ancient Ireland," there is a chapter on " Workers in Wood, Metal, and Stone," of which one section is devoted to an account of the Blacksmith and his Forge. It is necessary to remind the reader that this section — as well indeed as the whole chapter — relates to a period from the eleventh century backwards to ages of unknown antiquity. The various appliances of the forge are there described in detail : — the anvil with its 7iofse and block ; the sledge and hand-hammer ; the pincers or tongs ; the water-trough ; the bellows and bellows-blower, as well as the manner of blowing. The fuel used was wood-charcoal (appropriately called dial era inn, " coal of crann or wood ") of which that made from the wood of the birch tree gave the greatest heat obtainable by the old metal workers. The smith always kept a supply of charcoal in bags in the forge. All these appliances, helps, utensils, and tools, as well as others, are described, and as it were reconstructed, with their make and the modes of working them, from a minute examination of Ancient Irish Writings. After the publication of the " Social History," a further close inspection of the old texts enabled me to arrive at the construction of the blacksmith's fur- nace, as it existed more than a thousand years ago : a point never worked out till now. As an example of THt OLt) IRISH BLACKSMITH S FURNACE. 'loO a proper aiul saup. method of investigation and of careful induction, I will here set forth the whole process, mainly for the instruction of those numerous persons — and especially young workers — who are now busily engaged in the study of Irish lore all over Ireland, as well as elsewhere. I will do so in simple language too ; and I ask my readers to be careful not to mistake simplicity of language for shallowness of treatment, as some people do.* The following short essay — and indeed the whole of this little book — may be considered as still carry- ing out the main literary function of my life : namely, to simplify and popularise Irish lore, and thereby to make it more generally read and enjoyed. In ancient times in Ireland, as well as in many other countries, smiths, as being the makers of arms, were held in great estimation ; many stories were told about them in Irish writings, which are still extant ; and they and their various implements are often mentioned. So the literary mine we are now about to open up in search of Smith-lore is richer than usual. The great legendary Smith of Ireland was Goib- niu, of the magic-skilled Dedannan race, who was such a mighty master of his craft, that after his death he became a god, like Hephaestus or Vulcan among the Greeks and Romans, and Wayland the Smith among the Germans ; and we often find his * For two oilier, though less ancient, examples of the appli- cation of this inductive nulhod, th.e leader may look at the identification of Spenser's " IJnleCul Oiire " with the river Avonbeg in Wicklow Tp. 90, above), and of his " Molanna " with the little stream Behanna (pp. U'J to 105). 236 THE WONDERS OF iREr.Wli. name mixed up with old Irish literatui'c. He is mentioned in a " Glossary " written in the late ninth (or early tenth) century by Cormac Mac Cullenan, Archbishop and King of Munster. The main purpose of this Glossary was to explain old Irish words that had become in the time of the writer more or less obsolete and obscure. This little work of Cormac's, which is very scholarly for the period, is still extant and has been translated in our day by Dr. John O'Donovan : and edited and printed by Dr. Whitley Stokes. One of the old words Cormac explains is " ness," and in doing so he brings in a short story about Goibniu. He relates— taking his information of course from documents older than his own time — how Goibniu was one day in his forge holding in his hand a wooden instrument called a craiul or crann, when a person came in and told him a very unpleasant story about the misconduct of his wife, which put him into a terrible rage. His anger continued ; and day after day he stood in his forge, boiling and fum- ing in bad humour with the whole world ; and when- ever anyone had the ill luck to walk in, Goibniu — having first breathed a baleful spell into the crann to charge it with hellish venom — lifted it up and gave the visitor a blow, which either killed him outright or left a malignant and incurable lump or boil in the shape of the crann, that burned like fire and was worse even than death ; all by the power of the spell. Here we will leave him for a moment standing in his surliness, to have a look into an Irish document still older than Cormac's Glossary for another illus- tration of the use of this word crann as denoting a wooden implement. In the eighth century some THE OLD IRISH BLACKSMITH'S FURNACE. 237 scholarly Irish monk, then livmg in his monastery in Milan, while reading a Latin copy of the Old Testament, wrote, in the wide spaces between the lines, explanations of unusual Latin words as he met them while reading along, and sometimes general explanatory comments on the text. These " Glosses," as we now call them, he wrote in his native language — Irish. But the Irish of that time which was then in every day use, is now, after more than a thousand years, " Old Irish " and hard enough to understand. This was a usual practice with the Irish scholars of those days, mainly for the use of their young Irish students : for there were then no Latin Dictionaries available. This monk, commenting on an expression in the 9th verse of "Psalms" II, about a potter's vessel, takes occasion to mention two implements used by [Irish] potters in their work : — viz. (1) the round crann, that is to say, as he explains, the wooden block on which the vessel is first roughly formed in the soft clay : and (2) the wheel on which it is finally turned into shape. This makes clear what the potter's crann was.''' But to return to Goibniu. What was this crajin which he turned away from its proper function and used as a weapon when his passion was up ? So far we only know that it was a wuoden implement of some kind, like the potter's crann ; for crann means * That venerable copy of the Psaltns is still in Milan witli the very handwriting of our ccjuntryrnati. The passage relating to potters has been published and translated in a learned work, " Thesaurus Palajo-hihernicus," by Drs. Stokes atid Strachan. yol. i, p. 23. 238 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. a tree, a piece of wood, or anything made of wood. But it is not Cormac's custom to leave his reader in doubt as to his meaning ; and the mention of the smith's crann leads him up to the explanation of that and of the old word ness. He begins by saying that ncsa has four meanings, all of which he gives. With two of these we have nothing to do : the other two concern us here. First, as to the implement that the smith had in his hand ; Cormac says that this particular kind of crann was called a iiess, adding, after his usual happy manner, that its use was to mould or form on it the urnisi criud or " fur- nace of clay " [for the forge fire], an expression that comes like a flash of light, and makes everything clear.* But he gives another meaning : — that ness is also a name for [a smith's] urnisi or furnace. To illustrate and prove this he quotes an old verse from an elegy written on a smith by his wife (given here in translation) : — " It is grievous to iiie to look at liiiii [lying dead] : The led flame of his furnace mounted up to the roof : Sweet was the murmur th:it his hellows Used to chant to [or at] the hole of his furnace. ^^ Here the furnace comes in twice, and in each case the word applied to it is ness, though not in the nominative but in the genitive form, rendered necessary by the construction, as seen in the verse. What the " hole of his furnace " means is explained * The reader will ohserve that in butli the cases where the function of the crann has been determined, it was used as a mould to shape soft clay on : — in the one case for potters' vessels, and in the other for smiths' furnaces. THE OLD IRISH BLACKSMITH'S FURNACE. 239 farther on (p. 240). This explanation of Cormac's is corroborated in a manuscript quoted by Dr. Kuno Meyer in his " Triads of Ireland," p. 52: in which it is stated that ness is aurnisi criad, a " clay furnace." There was still a third application of this word ness that touches our subject, which we learn from another and totally different old Irish document. The Irish — like the Welsh — have always been fond of presenting things in triads or groups of three ; as is seen in the modern triad: — " Three good things to have — a clean shirt, a clean conscience, and a guinea in one's pocket." There is a collection of old Irish triads, in the Irish language, which has been lately translated and edited by Dr. Kuno Meyer, of which one is : — ' Three renovators of the world — the womb of woman, a cow's udder, and a smith's «ess,"* This old writer does not — as Cormac does — explain ness ; but another writer in another manu- script quoted by Dr. Meyer, explains the word as j\ fella ere, "a bag of [moulding] clay " : but goes no farther. From all this we learn that ness was a name for three different, but closely related things : — 1. The clay [kept in a bag] of which the smith's furnace was made. 2. The wooden mould on which the furnace was formed of the soft clay. 3. The furnace itself fully shaped. It is well to remark that all the preceding Irish lore, which is presented here in plain readable * Royal Irish Academy, Todd Lecture Series, vol. xiii., page 21 (No. 148). 240 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. language, is, in the originals — whether Irish or translation — excessively condensed, almost as much so as algebra.* We are now in a position to draw our conclusions — to give the shape and material of the furnace, and show how it was made. At the back of the fire stood upright a small flag-stone, with a hole in it for the pipe of the bellows— exactly like the hole for the pipe of the present smith's bellows : and as illustrating the , close observation of the old Irish writers, even this little hole is referred to in the verse of the elegy quoted by Cormac : p. 238, above. It was the hole through which the bellows used to chant the murmur that the poor woman loved to recall. The Crann or Ness that Goibniu had in his hand was a wooden mould round which was formed the soft clay furnace to contain and confine the fire. From what precedes we can see — as we might indeed expect — that whenever the walls of this furnace got burned or worn out (as our present fire-clay blocks often wear out in our grates) — which might be perhaps once a week or fortnight with constant use — it was cleared away, the ness or mould was set in the proper place (the exact place for the fire) and a new structure of soft clay was formed round it in a few minutes with the hands ; after which the mould was gently lifted up, leaving the furnace [tirnisi criad) ready for use. At the time the incident above related occurred i.e. when the unwelcome story was * Another example of how our concentrated old Irish literature may be expanded and popularised, -vAithout di-paiting from accuracy, is seen in tlie first paper in this book, " The Wonders of Ireland." THE OLD IRISH BLACKSMITH'S FUENACE. 241 brought to Goibniu, he happened to be engaged in moulding a fresh furnace round the ness. It may be asked what need had those old smiths of an enclosed furnace at all : why did they not use an open fire-place like our blacksmiths ? The answer is obvious : — they used wood-charcoal, which being much lighter than our coal, would be blown about and scattered by the blast of the bellows, if not confined by the furnace. From Cormac's statement, that the lump or boil which was left on the visitor by Goibniu's blow was in the shape of the ness, we may infer that the ness was round or nearly so : with perhaps a small part of the surface flat to lay up against the back flag, just opposite the pipe-hole. Putting all the references together we may be pretty sure that this 7iess or mould was like what is repre- (^^^^ ^ X sented here, either solid or hollow. The l^^^^ J handle was for holding and lifting up ; which same handle Goibniu found very convenient when using the instrument as a weapon. A word about the clay for the furnace. It had of course to be carefully selected, just as our modern artisans select their fire-clay — which you may now buy in the shops; and no doubt these old Irish workmen well knew the best fire-clay to stand the fire. It was not common clay, but was more or less valuable, and accordingly was kept in bags in the forge like the charcoal to prevent waste ; as we may gather from the expression of the writer quoted by Dr. Kuno Meyer — Mala ere, a " bay of [moulding] clay," p. 239 above. 242 THE WONDERS OF IRELAND. Of the three meanings of ness given at p. 239 above, the writer of the triad, when citing the word as applied to a renovator, must have had one or the other of twu in his mind, viz., either the bag of clay, or the mould for shaping (the third — the clay furnace — would not apply). And whichever of the two he meant, mark how satisfactorily it squares-in with the main function running through the triad — the function of renovating or renewing : — the clay, or the mould, whichever we take, renewed the furnace. This short essay illustrates how our old Irish authorities — brief and dry as they often are, and uncommunicative as they often seem — may, when subjected to a searching cross-examination, reveal to us the various materials, appliances, tools, and modes of working of the ancient Irish handicraftsmen of the several arts and trades. BY P. W. JOYCE, M.A., LL.D., T.C.D.; M.K.I.A. ONE OF THE COMMISSIONERS FOR, THE PUBLICATION OF THE ANCIENT LAWS OF IRELAND; LATE PRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF ANTIQUARIES, IRELAND LATE PRINCIPAL, MARLBOROUGH STREET (GOVERNMENT) TRAINING COLLEGE, DUBLIN. Two Splendid Volumes, richly gili, hoth cover and top. With j6i Illustrations. Price £i is. net. A SOCIAL HISTORY OF ANCIENT IRELAND. 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