ally remembered; and the locality already mentioned on the road above Kilmurvy is pointed out as the spot where the rival brotherhoods contended. Some semi-circular tracks in the limestone rock are exhibited as the hoof-prints of the horse of some eminent personage by whom the battle of the saints was composed. Tracks of this kind, the traces of some fossil of softer texture than the embedding limestone, occur in all directions through the district. The local tradition is confirmed by the written history; only, in the latter, Enda is induced by the exhortations of his old instructor and friend, Fanchea, to lay aside the pole with which he had armed himself for the fray, and remain within his cell while an incursion of certain lay depredators is going_forward. Strange existence! Great must be the charm of solitude and contemplation that could withdraw a man from the haunts of social life to be partaker of the little intrigues and petty embroilments of such a community; but in the age of Enda, it was a choice between bloodshed and rapine in the inhabited parts of the country, and the comparative security as well as seclusion and independence of a hermitical life in the desert. Enda's original church has disappeared, and the blowing sands have quite obliterated the cemetery famous for its hundred and twenty inscribed tombs of saints, adjoining it. The foundation of his round tower, however, is still visible; and on the brow of the green eminence above, conspicuous against the sky, still stands the cell of Benignus, the most elegant and best-built, as it is the very smallest, cell in all Ireland. Twelve feet by eight internally, it is more like a sepulchral vault than a house of worship. Its stone roof has now nearly disappeared; but the great blocks composing its well-jointed walls and graceful Egyptian doorway defy the storms of thirteen centuries. It was evening when I visited the spot. I had come from Dhu-Cahir and the Atlantic side of the island over the intermediate tract of stone. These immense sheets of rock, ringing to the tread with a metallic sonorousness, cover all the surface with vast ridges and furrows, like the tillage of some extinct race of giants. The hollow reverberations of the Atlantic, the lonely crumbling pagan fortress, and the utter solitude of the dark marble-ribbed desert over

which I passed, had combined to sadden and depress my mind; so that, when at length we came forth on the verdant carpet that fringes the eastern brow of the desert, and stood beside this graceful little temple overlooking the green slope on which the herds of the village were assembled, lowing in the parting sunshine, the spectacle was attended with a sense of pleasure most grateful to experience. The sun had set before I left the spot, having traced in the indistinct light on a square monumental stone under the little eastern window, inscribed in large, deep-cut Greco-Irish characters, the single word cari. The tomb "of the dear one" could not have been erected in a spot better calculated for serious and tender contemplation. I returned by the little hamlet of Killaney. This luckless spot suffered about a year since a terrible calamity. The men and youths of the village, to the number of fourteen, had repaired to a flat projecting rock to fish, and were engaged in angling from this natural platform, when one of those sudden waves which sometimes start up capriciously in the Atlantic, rolled in and swept them all away. There was scarcely a house in the village that had not lost a father, a son, or a brother; and the little place, as I passed through, seemed so widowed and desolate, that I had no care to inspect its once proud castle of Ardkeen, which, in the crown-grants of lands in Connaught, plays the same conspicuous part as "our Castle of Dublin" does in grants in capite in Leinster.

Having now exhausted the sights of Arran of the Saints, I procured a stout hooker, the St. Margaret, Patrick Gill owner, to convey me to New Quay, on the south side of the Bay of Galway, that I might have an opportunity of seeing "the white-stoned slippery region of Burren," and of inspecting the ruins of the Abbey of Corcomroe. Enjoying a favourable wind, we made New Quay in a run of four hours, passing close under the bare, round-backed stonemountain of Blackhead, and the castle and picturesque creek of Ballyvaughan. The arm of the sea on which New Quay is situated, is that which yields the well-known Red-bank Burren oysters. It is a far-winding, shallow estuary, separated from the external waters of Galway Bay by the low peninsula of Curran Ruadh. The beach on the sea

ward side of this peninsula retains the name of Traigh-Chairan, or Kieran's Strand, being pointed out by tradition as the place whence the saints of Arran used to set sail on their voyages to the sacred island.

On St. Kieran's festival a singular commemoration of him and his companions' voyages is kept up here, called Snav-Enach, or the Swimming Fair. The peasantry bring down their horses, and with them swim about the strand, in honour of the saints of Arran. It is at least a salubrious custom, whatever may be thought of its spiritual utility.

On the landward side of the estuary rises a considerable mountain, the base and lower slopes of which are clad in the delicate green peculiar to the limestone formation; but the summit and upper declivities are covered with the grey shingle, which forms so large a proportion of the surface of this rocky region. New Quay consists of a few bathing lodges, frequented chiefly by the citizens of Galway, whose town and shipping can be discerned across the bay at a distance of about ten miles. There is but little timber in the dis. trict, and the place has a windy and bleak, although clean appearance. There is no hotel, nor any means of procuring horses or vehicles nearer than Ballyvaughan; but a walk of a couple of miles by a good road, conducts round the northern base of the hill I have mentioned, to a scene which would well repay a much more troublesome pilgrimage. Behind the mountain the vale expands round the head of another estuary, penetrating inland from the side of Ballyvaughan, also famous for its oysters, and comprising the famous creek of Pooldoody. The fertile area is surrounded on all sides by mountains, more or less enveloped in the same grey covering of limestone shingle. Where the vale withdraws round the inland base of the firstmentioned mountain, midway on the green declivity, overlooking the landlocked valley, stands the great abbey of the O'Briens. There is no adjoining cemetery. The pasturage surrounds it on all sides close to the walls, and perhaps the bulk of the building strikes the eye as greater on this account; for, after the diminutive cells of Arran, it appears as mighty a structure externally as it has been sumptuous and splendid within. Nothing, indeed, can afford a greater con

trast, than the little unadorned manisters of Kieran and Carnach, and the Manister Mor of Corcomruadh, with its stone-ribbed chancel vault, its elaborate undercut mouldings, its tombs, and effigies, and fresco polychrome. I had often heard of the tomb and marble effigy of Connor O'Brien, the son of the founder, and at once distinguished it on the north side of the chancel. Some object formerly issued from the mouth of the effigy, which local tradition alleges was a tobacco-pipe! I believe the same statement is also found in books of authority. Whatever the object may have been (and those familiar with the symbolical representation of the thirteenth century will probably agree that it was not a tobacco-pipe), it has been broken away, but the figure is in other respects little injured.

As the only existing effigy of a native Irish prince in his proper costume, this figure of Connor O'Brien is of singular interest. Donogh Carbreach O'Brien, father of Connor, and founder of the abbey, was the first who sunk the royal style in the humbler title of Lord of Thomond. He flourished at the period of the Anglo-Norman invasion, and, dying in A.D. 1242, was succeeded by Connor. Donogh appears to have been a munificent and splendid prince. He himself dwelt in a "palace of a circular construction," being no other than a rath or earthen fortress, at Clonroad, now Ennis; but his skill in architecture, both civil and ecclesiastical, was displayed in many stone castles, bridges, and churches. The founder of the abbeys of Holycross and Corcomroe, whether he lived in a stone castle or an earthen rath, was no mean mason. Thomond, at this time, included all North Munster, from Cashel and Birr to the Atlantic, including the populous city of Limerick, where the chiefs of the O'Briens, if they had preferred a stone-built mansion, might easily have lodged themselves. On his father's death, Connor, who continued to reside in his earthen palace, was inaugurated after the manner of his ancestors, at Moy-adha, near Kilrush. "He was,"

says the native chronicler, "a most fortunate and auspicious prince; there were peace, ease, and wealth, plentiful and cheerful fare, open liberality, festive mirth, and benefactions throughout all the territories of his kingdom.

The greater part of the people of the south of Ireland put them

selves under his protection, on account of the greatness of his actions, and his extraordinary gifts from the Holy Ghost: for he was a man of a graceful and majestic aspect-of great strength and agility of body-of great vigour and fortitude of mind, and also of a noble and princely bearing

Not a day nor an hour passed, since he came of age to handle or bear martial arms, during which he was not meditating and endeavouring, by all possible means, to free his countrymen from their slavery. There was not an animal or creature under heaven he held in such hatred and abhorrence as the English offspring; nor did he suffer one of that nation to inhabit the size of the smallest hut of his territory." Under the sway of this fortunate prince, the Thomondians increased in wealth and courage; and in A.D. 1252, deputed Connor's eldest son, Tiege, to represent the southern half of Ireland, at a conference with the chiefs of the northern division for the election of a supreme king, under whom the united strength of the island might be employed for the expulsion of the invaders.

If this meeting, which was held on one of the narrow channels of Lough Erne, had terminated in the election of a monarch, it probably would have changed the whole complexion of our history; but the mutual jealousies of the north and south prevented any election, and Tiege returned to Thomond, where in two years after he died. This affliction preyed deeply on the mind of Connor; he became remiss and apathetic; and several of his vassals taking advantage of his apparent imbecility, withheld their tributes. Connor, to compel the payments of his rents, sent out one force, under the command of his younger son, the "broad eyed" Brien Roe, into the eastern part of his territory, and him. self assumed the leadership of another band, which was destined to distrain the lands of the O'Loghlens, and other feudatories of Corcomroe and Burren. The driving of cattle for rent is at no time a very civilised proceeding; but we do not often hear of such a levying of distresses as was made on this occasion by Connor Brien. "Connor, accompanied by his numerous household and domestic guards, together with the

heroic Kinel Fearmac (the O'Deas), under the command of Donogh O'Dea and the renowned O'Hehir, marched to the upper territory, to reduce its inhabitants to obedience. As they proceeded towards Dubh Gleann, northwards, they left the country in red flashes of flaming fire, and in pillars of darkening smoke after them. When they passed Beal-an-Clogaid, westward, making their way by the sea, northward, Connor Carrach O'Loghlen with his partisans and forces came against them, on which occasion a furious and obstinate battle was fought between them; and Connor O'Brien was killed, with many more of his people, in the year of Christ, 1267. His body was nobly and honourably interred in the Abbey of East Burren by the monks of that convent, who also erected a grand marble statue to his memory over his grave."* This is the effigy of which I have been speaking, and which still remains, with one slight mutilation, entire in the chancel of Corcomroe. The countenance corresponds with the language of the family poet; the features are large, placid, and regular; the hair, divided on the centre of the forehead, is arranged in curls which descend on each side to below the ear; the face is all shaven; the neck bare; a low coronet covers the top of the head; the body is clad in a flowing surcoat, fastened at the throat by a plain band; the left hand laid on the breast, holds a chain descending from the neck; the right arm is stretched by the side; the feet are clad with shoes open over the instep, and fastened by a strap and buckle round the ankle; the legs which, above the ankle, are concealed by the flowing surcoat, appear to be clad in hose. There is no belt, sword, or other weapon. The feet rest on a triple-branched fleur-de-lis; the whole aspect of the figure bespeaks a very different character from that usually ascribed to the native Irish potentate. Some broken remains of the effigy of Connor's lady, or countess, may still be traced, built into the adjoining monument of the O'Loghlens. The head is gone; but the form of the robe is still discernible; a border of embroidery surrounds the throat, and is carried down each side of a squarestepped opening and slit in front. No

trace of anything barbaric appears in either; both effigies are recumbent that of Connor being protected by an arched niche, and low plain pediment.

Strange to say, there is no printed memorial of these eminent persons, beyond the entries of their ascensions and deaths in the "Annals of the Four Masters." Yet, throughout the north of Clare and the Isles of Arran, the people are familiar with the name of Croohore-na-Suidine;" and a poor woman who craved charity at the abbey could point in the direction of Beal-an-Clogaid and Park-na-Suidine, where he met his death upwards of six hundred years ago. In Arran he is remembered as a great builder and warrior, and in the middle island they make the mistake of ascribing the erection of Dun-Conor to him, instead of to Conor, son of Uaithmore the Fir-Volg, twelve hundred years before.

But it is time to give some account of the building which contains these interesting monuments. It is an aisled, cruciform church of large size. The chancel end alone appears to have been vaulted, the nave and transept being now unroofed. The style is the pointed Gothic of the beginning of the thirteenth century, with some traces of the earlier taste in the round-headed windows of the lateral chapels. The east window comprises three elegant lancet opes with one pointed window above. A herring-bone moulding, deeply undercut, surrounds the lancet heads. The zig-zags are in black marble, and the traces of red fresco are still observable underneath. The roof is divided by vaulting ribs of very elegant workmanship, the central transverse rib displaying the same rich pattern with the window-heads, with a rich rosette in the apex, but all cut in white freestone-Caen stone I should suppose. But it is on the columns of the chancel arch that the builder has displayed his taste and resources to the greatest advantage. Nothing can be seen, from Canterbury to Rosslin, more elegant than some of these capitals. Leaves, fruit, and the pendant bells of umbelliferous flowers are mingled with a grace and delicacy that cannot be surpassed. One capital in particular excited my admiration. The coronel is formed of the overhanging flowers of the waterlily bursting with their seeds. The lower members of the capital are com

posed of the rocket-shaped seed-vessels. The stems rising to support the hanging blossoms unite and symmetrise the whole. Two highly decorated lateral chapels open at either side of the chancel out of the transepts. Their columns are also highly decorated, but in a more severe style, the human face being introduced on two of the capitals with stiff Lombardic accessories. A richly-flowered moulding, very boldly undercut, decorates the arch of the northern chapel, which has been converted into a burying vault for the family of Moran. There is, as I have said, no external cemetery; and the consequence is, that every inch of the internal space is piled with graves. Scores of bleached skulls lie in all directions; some piled in corners, others tossing about the stone-crowded area. All are of the same type-long, capacious, but chiefly developed behind. The only lofty skulls I noticed were those of females. It is the form of the native Dal-Cassian head to this day but heads of the same type may be seen in the first ranks of every profession in Ireland; and nowhere have I met men more frank, courteous, and intelligent than the native people of this part of Clare, though condemned by phrenological decree to perpetual barbarism.

Amid the multitude of gravestones, I looked in vain for those which might have covered the warriors buried here after the great battle of Doolen; but they have been heaped, flagstone upon flagstone, so thick, that there is no seeing beyond the memorials of the last generation. Here again I have to speak of an event of considerable historical importance, of which there is no printed record. Yet it determined the fate of the Dalcassian tribes for many generations; and here, by the tomb of the last of their great princes, it may not be unfit to give some account of it.

The "broad-eyed" Brien Roe was, as I have said, the second son of Connor, and, after his father's death, was duly inaugurated at MoyAdha, and took up his residence at Clonroad. His nephew, however, Turlogh, son of Tiege of the Conference, or Tiege "Narrow-Water," as he is called, having been fostered among the most warlike of the northern families, laid claim to the principality, and by their assistance expelled his uncle.

Thereupon Brien Roe fled to Cork, where he solicited the aid of Thomas de Clare, a soldier of fortune, to reinstate him in his lordship, offering as a reward the territory of Tradree extending from Limerick to near the river Fergus. De Clare, another Strongbow, accepted the terms, raised an army of Anglo-Norman adventurers in Cork and Desmond, and returning with Brien. A.D. 1277, expelled his rival, and erected for himself, in the midst of the territory he had so acquired, the lofty and strong keep of Bunratty. Brien having bartered his independence for the possession of a despised authority, shortly after met the fate he might have expected, having been put to death by De Clare within the courtyard of his newly-erected fortress. Turlogh now succeeded to the Irish lordship; but De Clare having obtained a grant from the Crown of all Thomond, reconciled himself with "the dun-haired" Dermot, son of Brien, and setting him up as a rival candidate, divided the Dalcassians into the distinct and hostile factions of Clan-Turlogh and Clan Brien Roe, in the expectation of seizing the whole territory from whichever should succeed in exterminating the other. The final struggle between these infatuated rivals did not take place till 1317. The Clan-Turlogh, the night before the battle, encamped here, sleeping “in the grand, purple-marbled abbey, and in the polished, starry, and ornamented cells." The battle was joined in the neighbouring valley of Dubh-glinn, and eventuated in the total defeat of the the Clan Brien Roe. The slain chiefs were buried in the abbey, under "squared and flowered" flag-stone tombs, and the common soldiers cast in a dyke, with a mound heaped over it. The victors, contrary to DeClare's calculations, proved too strong for him also; and, leaving Bunratty in flames, he was obliged to recross the Shannon, in 1318, resigning the territory of Thomond to the sovereignty of the O'Briens, and the "wars of Turlogh" to the celebration of their bard, MacCraith.

Apart from its historical associations, the scene itself is one of singular interest. The surrounding pastures are among the best in this country of sweet grass. Some of the tillage lands have borne so many crops of grain in succession without manure, that I hesitate to

commit myself to the number I heard stated on the spot. The view over the wide, green valley is uninterrupted by trees. All the surrounding features are on a great scale, and the grey shingle-covered mountain-slopes lie far enough from the eye to derive a harmonising tint from the air. On the slope of the hill behind the abbey, about 200 yards from the walls, is the focus of a marvellous echo, which mimics the tone of the speaker, while it repeats the words of a short sentence, in a really exquisite manner.

Leaving Connor O'Brien to rest under the splendid fane raised by his father, I left the comparatively modern abbey to visit the "old" church of Ought-mama, about a mile distant on the upper verge of the green land, where a few steps might bring the meditative recluse into the stony desert. Here we are again in the midst of Cyclopean gables and Egyptian doorways, massive and unimpaired as the first day the huge blocks that form them were erected. Here also we find again the single stone which formed the arch of the original east window, carefully deposited at the doorway, while the whole of the original east gable has been removed, to make way for a tenth or eleventh century chancel. Of the additional part, the chancel arch and some foundations alone remain, but quite enough to show, by the dif ference of masonry, that they belong to a more recent period. The same alteration appears to have been made in the Cathedral of Glendalough; and, generally, it would appear that the very old Irish churches consisted of one apartment without any division. The western doorway of Ought-mama is one of the most massive and imposing of those slope-jambed entrances, made familiar to us by Petrie's illustrations. It has probably stood for near thirteen centuries, and seems capable of standing for thousands of years to come.

The desert of stone, stretching from behind Ought-mama up the acclivity of the Corrin mountains, gives place on their flat summits to a rough pas ture, which extends to the eastern verge of the district where the mountain chain stoops suddenly in a long precipice, running north and south over the vast level plain of Kiltartan. The margin of the plain, to within a short distance of the foot of the precipice, is composed almost wholly of the