Doneraile, once the chosen seat of Sir William St. Leger, Lord President of Munster, is now a considerable country town in the county of Cork; but we have nothing to do with towns. The conflicting passions, the interested feelings, the pursuits and avocations which affect mankind, differ not wherever communities exist. We prefer to glide adown the stream, and look upon the placid water, now reflecting on its mirror-like surface comfortable farmhouses, or turning the busy wheels of the mills in the vicinity of Doneraile; now skirting tasteful lawns, spread like verdant seas with wooded islands in front of the country mansions that crowd the scene. A handsome bridge of three arches spans the Mulla ere it waters Doneraile Park, the handsome seat of Viscount Doneraile. The grounds are kept with great care, and are worthy of it. The timber is highly ornamental. We dearly love woodland scenery, and feel the heart dilate, and our thoughts expand, when contemplating the leafy honours of the wide old woods. We call upon memory to recount what mighty men of yore have here sought rest and relaxation from the conflicts of words or weapons -from the tumults of the senate or the fray. The family of St. Leger is of great antiquity. In 1541, Sir Anthony St. Leger, Lord Deputy of Ireland, assembled a Parliament at Dublin, June 13th, 33 Henry VIII., which conferred on the King the title of King of Ireland; the style heretofore used was Lord of Ireland. Many of the Irish chiefs, who hitherto lived in enmity with the English rulers, made their submissions; and we find, in Mr. J. R. O'Flanagan's MS. work on the 66 Origin and Progress of the English Laws in Ireland," the following account of this distinguished statesman : "St. Leger was a very politic man. He determined to adopt a different course from his predecessors in office; instead of seeking to exterminate the Irish, or breaking truce with them, to conciliate and protect them as fellow-subjects. The effect was magical on the Irish chieftains; their hearts were softened by kindly treatment, the reverse of what they had formerly experienced; and, if it had not been for causes which speedily infused poison into the cup of joy-peace, civilization, and national prosperity, would have marked the wisdom of St. Leger's government. In a letter which the Irish Lords addressed to the King, on the 10th of April, 1546, preserved in the State Papers, part 3, vol. iii. page 542, lamenting the departure of the good Lord Deputy, they use these words:-' O si majoribus nostris tales contigissent moderatores.' And in a communication from Sir Thomas Cusack, then Master of the Rolls, writing to Paget, Chief Secretary in England, he states the grief of the Irish Lords, 'even to weeping, for St. Leger's departure, because they found him so good and just in his proceedings, and, to his honour, would not suffer wrong to be done to them, so that, thanks be to God, those that would not be brought under subjection with 10,000 men cometh to Dublin with a letter.' What a lesson is contained in this fact !" The civil wars of 1641 caused great destruction to life and property along the entire course of the Mulla. The mansion of the Lord President was burned down, and a very large portion of the town shared the same fate. The present dwelling of Lord Doneraile crowns the summit of a verdant hill, which slopes gently to the waters of Mulla. The house is a substantial, convenient one, and adjoining are the conservatories, stored with the choicest exotics. Several rustic bridges span the silvery stream as it winds through the demesne, and the openings of the trees afford views of exquisite beauty. In some places the grounds bear evidence of the power of the great storm in 1838, when the wind burst furiously on the tall clumps of forest trees, and ripped its way among the ranks. No force could withstand the onset. It tore up, shattered, and twisted the oldest trees as though they were osier boughs, causing many an open glade in the bosom of the ancient groves. At Creagh Castle, are the ruins of a castle, in good preservation. The entrance to the demesne is in the florid Gothic style, and of hewn limestone; it is very handsome. The river winds near Saffron Hill, so called from the quantity of saffron which was formerly planted here when used by the Irish for dying their shirts. These garments, called lein croich, were common to the Celtic nations, and used by the Highlanders. Several antiquities were found in this neighbourhood, on Mr. Love's property, near a rath; these consisted of three large urns, made of fine clay, dried by the fire; each might contain about sixteen gallons; they had a rich kind of pattern carved at the top and bottom. There is no doubt they were funereal, for human bones were found in one. They soon crumbled when exposed to air, and the urns mouldered in a little time. A brass spur was also found, and some deer antlers. Several years ago, when we were wont to follow the glorious but sometimes dangerous sport of foxhunting, we made acquaintance with a member of the Love family, who was quite a character. Many stories are told of him, which will be readily credited by those who knew the man. He lived, he said, in a house of three stories; one held his hunters, the second, himself and domestics, the third, his hounds. From some accident, this house caught fire, and, as Johnny Love was beloved by "Man and baste," the whole country rushed to the rescue. While "the boys" were busy in quenching the flames, Johnny thrust his wellknown hunting-cap out of the kennel window in the attic, and after a very unconcerned glance at the devouring element raging beneath, he pithily addressed the crowd-" Boys," said he, "ye needn't trouble yourselves-I'm insured." Luckily, the boys could not understand much English, and the Insurance Company were relieved from the demand of Johnny's personal representatives. The river glides along a valuable tract of ground, all of which is reclaimed bog, producing the most luxuriant crops. The banks are enlivened by some extensive plantations, and once more a castled wall denotes where formerly ruled the chieftain of the dis trict. How fully is the history of Ireland described in the monuments that remain of the former possessors of the land. We have the caverned dwelling of the Firbolg; the mound of the Tuatha-de-Danain; the pillar-stone of the Druid; the Dane's rath; the Milesian cairn; the donjon keep of the Anglo-Norman; the pointed gables of the Elizabethan age; the square Peel* tower of the days of Cromwell; the mansion house of our own time; all speak, as in a written page, the pursuits, tastes, character of the eras and races by whom they were respectively erected. The castle next us is Ballynemona, the Quere Peele. seat of Garret Nagle, a fine specimen of a Milesian. The Nagles are of very ancient date in this country, and the celebrated Edmund Burke was nearly connected to them by marriage. They were also in a similar way allied to Spenser's family. Sylvanus, the eldest son of Edmund Spenser, married Ellen Nagle, eldest daughter of David Nagle, of Monanimy. This castle of Ballynemona is a venerable tower, and forms a portion of the dwelling occupied by the family. The scenery around is very interesting. The banks being finely wooded, and the undulating nature of the ground preventing the eyes being wearied by any feeling of tameness in the general features of the landscape. Leaving the castle's steep behind, we follow the course of the stream. Lower down the river is Wallstown. Cromwell granted this castle, and the landed property of the then proprietor, Mr. Wall, to one of his soldiers, named Ruddock. The river affords much pleasure to the admirers of picturesque scenery, from the beautiful bends of the stream, as it flows around. The banks are occasionally steep and well wooded, while rocks peep out through the vistas, and diversify the scene. Annsgrove, seat of the late General Hon. A. Grove Annesley, is built near the edge of a lofty ledge rising from the river's brim. grounds are extensive, and present great sylvan beauty; they are kept in perfect order, and display great taste in their arrangement. Doctor Smithf relates, that while digging the foundation of a barn here, several gigantic human bones, and, in particular, a great skull, were discovered; but, by the negligence of the workmen, they were not preserved. The Mulla now winds southerly, and a steep glen, with rocks bare and craggy, admits a passage to the murmuring stream. As we draw near to Castletownroche, the prospect we behold from the east bank is most picturesque. The river, gliding under the bridge, and plunging into the gloom of five bold arches, occupies the foreground. On one hand is a ridge of rock, steep and bare down the sides, but tall trees nod overhead, and shut out the sky, while opposite is the church with the town, the white History of Cork, vol. ii. p. 337., The walls and clustered dwellings pleasantly seated on the side and summit of a steep hill. The back ground is occupied by a spacious mill turned by the river. From the opposite shore rises the bosom of a lofty height, treeclad and turret-crowned. This is a portion of a fine castle built near the Mulla by the family of Roche, Lords Fermoy. It is now called CastleWidenham, the seat of the late H. M. Smyth, brother to the Princess of Capua. We are much gratified to find that the portion of the dwelling lately erected is in perfect harmony with the ancient keep incorporated with it. This venerable tower rises high, and in proud majesty, over the surrounding woodlands, and, as we paced the battlements, we beheld on every side a panorama of equal extent and beauty. The family who built this castle originally, and gave their name to tower and town, were distinguished for their birth and misfortunes. They were descended from David de-la-Roche, or de-Rupe, who lived in the reign of Edward II. They came to this country shortly after the English settled in it, and were created Lords Fermoy. By intermarriage with the houses of the Irish chieftains, they became identified with Ireland. In A. D. 1580 this castle was suddenly visited by Sir Walter Raleigh, who conveyed Lord and Lady Roche to Cork, where they remained for a short time in confinement on suspicion of disloyalty, but his lordship having disproved the charge, they were speedily restored to freedom. A stone imbedded in the church wall bears the following inscription, which, from the date, must refer to them : "Orate Pro bono statu Pro Anima ejus Anno Domini 1585." How faithful this family have ever been to the monarchs of England is fully disclosed in the losses they sustained. In a petition preferred to the lords of the council in England, Anno 1614, it is set forth that, in Tyrone's rebellion, Lord Roche had three sons slain, and many of his servants and followers. During the parliamentary war, in which the Roches were staunch royalists, the castle sustained many sieges; and, in 1649, was defended with great bravery for several days, by Lady Roche, against Cromwell's army, who raised a battery against it on the spot, since called Camp-hill. Having fallen into the hands of "the man Oliver," Lord Roche would not hold it on terms of submission to him, on which the estates were declared confiscated, and Maurice Lord Roche retired to Flanders, where his connexions procured for him the command of a regiment. Here he shared his scanty pay, barely enough to support himself and family, with the exiled prince, and, like many a deluded follower of the house of Stuart, expected the Restoration would have given back the estates to the rightful owners, as well as the throne to the rightful king; but justice formed no part of the character of the Second Charles. It is an axiom of our political faith that no immoral, dishonest private character can be the reverse in a public one; and it is no slander of the dead to say, both one and the other was Charles the Second. The Earl of Orrery, in a letter to the Duke of Ormond, dated January 14, 1667, recommends Lord Roche and his children to the Duke's care, in these words:"It is a great grief to me to see a nobleman of so ancient a family left without any maintenance; and being able to do no more than I have done, I could not deny to do for him what I could do, to lament his lamentable state to your grace." Adjoining the Castle-Widenham demesne are some tastefully laid out hanging gardens, belonging to another Mr. Smith, who has expended a large sum in making available every inch of surface on rocks rising from the bed of the river. Leaving those behind, the stream takes a circular sweep through a beautiful glen, enriched with luxuriant plantations, and, after flowing beneath the arches of Kilcummerbridge, forms a confluence with the Avondhu, beside the majestic ruins of Bridgetown Abbey. Ballynadroghid, or Bridgetown, has disappeared, and no stone remains to point out where once the town stood. Of two bridges which formerly crossed the rivers, only one remains; and now that is tottering, and likely to follow its fellow : but here are the Abbey ruins in their strength -and here is sculptured stone-work likely to last ;-for ages have rolled by since the chisel cut the stone, and the cherub smiles still, and the hard lips mock at decay. The Abbey ruins are most extensive. "Cypress and ivy, weed and wallflower grown, This Abbey, according to Archdall,* was founded in the reign of King John, by Alexander Fitzhugh Roche, dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, and supplied with canons regular from the Priory of Newtown, in the county of Meath, and the Abbey of St. Thomas, in Dublin. Edward I. confirmed the endowment; and the Roche family, on whose lands it stood, added considerably to the original foundation. When, in 1375, Edward III. issued his writ to the bishops and commons, to elect persons to assist him and his council, as well touching the government of the kingdom, as for aid and support in his wars, Thomas, then prior of this house, was one of those deputed for this purpose. It was a lovely summer day, when, in company with some highly-gifted friends, we last visited the ruined Abbey. No envious cloud darkened the fair face of nature. Every objectthe birds of the air, the beasts of the field, the creatures of the earthseemed to rejoice in a holiday. The wind lay hushed in some dark cave where Eolus slumbers, and, as the two rivers met in their course, the greeting was gentle and subdued, as if each was unwilling to break the profound repose. Never was day more suited to the scene. The old walls were gleaming in the sunshine which streamed through the noble windows, the broken gables, and fissured cells. One might have deemed the emblazoned panes restored when the flickering light fell in golden rays upon the grass in the aisles. The air was so still, that creeping plants hung in natural festoons along the walls, without any perceptible motion, and wild flowers seemed to present themselves in conscious security on their slender stalks, and feared not the myriads of insects that filled the air with sound, while, poised on their wings, they rested overhead. The ruins extend over some acres of ground. The most beautiful portion, by far, is the Abbey Church, which can vie with the most celebrated in any country. The architecture is, in Byron's words— "Of a rich and rare Close to the high altar is a monument, corner moulding, on the altar side, a head, in high relief, is most unaccountably placed, without anything similar to correspond as a balance." In a small chapel adjoining is a tomb, inscribed, Theobald Roche, 1634, and several curiously sculptured gravestones are strewn around. The whole body of the ruin is in a sadly neglected state, full of weeds and stones. Emerging from the chapel we found ourselves in a quadrangle; cloisters, the refectory, and other apartments, used as the habitation of the brethren, Monasticon Hib. 57. † Researches in South of Ireland. lie around. We spent several hours in exploring the time-worn walls, and, on departing, felt loath to leave so sweet a spot. The Mulla has now merged in the Blackwater, and we must bid farewell ; but ere we leave, we follow the combined streams a few hundred yards, and enter the demesne of Spenser's "Renny." We have already learned his family continued to reside here after his death. A good modern mansion is now standing in front of the abode of the Spensers, and majestic rocks frown boldly upon the stream. Continuing by the river side we find large plantations, and meet a giant oak, the object of our pilgrimage. There is a quiet, solitary stillness about this spot, in unison with the poetic visions which may be supposed to haunt it. This majestic tree is called "Spenser's Oak," and beneath its shade the poet often rested. Tradition asserts that here he composed great part of the Faerie Queene; and, doubtless, here was much to calm his thoughts, and allow his mind to feed upon the delicious repast his intellectual store furnished. Waving trees are still around, and the voice of birds, not caged or confined within the walls of men's dwelling, but free denizens of the sky, carolling their songs louder as they approach that heaven, where all that is bright shall live eternally. Perhaps it was this very tree Spenser had before him when he penned these lines :— Truly, Spenser was the poet of nature; and honour to his memory while the Mulla flows. |