In the revolutions of five centuries, the hardy chivalry of Wales, the sternness of a republican army, and the troops of a victorious monarch, have successively appeared before the walls of Limerick. In that city, Ireton and Tyrconnel, two distinguished characters, perhaps the most opposite in British history, both terminated their mortal career; nor, added to these military and political events, will it be found altogether destitute of literary recollections, as, in the last siege it sustained, Story, the historian of that period, was actively engaged, and Rapin, the historian of England, was severely wounded. {37}
 Situated on the noble River Shannon, thence enjoying maritime freedom and support, and with tracts of wild and rugged country on the North and West, that afforded a secure retreat to the conquered, Limerick was a position naturally wrested with difficulty from the Irish, and, when gained, was held by the captors with watchfulness and uncertainty. Like Cork, and the most noted sea-ports of Ireland, it was a Danish settlement in the ninth and tenth centuries, until recovered by Donald O’Brien, an active and powerful chieftain, who assumed the style and dignity of King of Lumneach, (as it is written) or North Munster - contrasted to Desmond, or South Munster, Mac Carthy the king of which was the first Irish prince that swore fealty to Henry II. Donald O’Brien followed his example, but only held his vow of allegiance sacred until the departure of the English Monarch; when, availing himself of the unsettled state of the country and the private jealousies which existed between the original leaders of the invasion, he suddenly declared his independence, and having surprised, defeated a detachment of the English troops that had inarched against him. This defeat caused such a panic in the main body, commanded by Hervey de Montmorries, that they retreated precipitately to Waterford, and it seemed to be the signal for warfare and revolt to the Irish. The Earl Strongbow, under whose direction the affairs of the recently obtained country had been placed, acted on the defensive only, and found it necessary to recall to his assistance Raymond le Gros, the former favourite and successful general of the English adventurers, by the promise of the hand of his sister in marriage, which had been before refused him, and was the cause of his retiring into Wales.
 Raymond returned with a small reinforcement, but his personal appearance, rather than the number of his troops, restored confidence to the dispirited soldiers of Strongbow; and scarcely were his nuptials celebrated, when the bridegroom marched against the Irish enemy. Intimidated by his former success, present rapidity and self-confidence, {38} little resistance was made by the Irish to the progress of Raymond, and he appeared before Limerick at the head of six hundred chosen men. The river by which the city was surrounded was broad and rapid in the point of attack selected. Two knights succeeded in fording it, but one of them, in his return to lead over his associates in this enterprize, was swept away by the force of the current and drowned: another made good his passage; but the majority hesitated at the great danger, when Raymond, plunging into the water, was instantly followed to a man, and Limerick surrendered without resistance.
 The death of Strongbow, however, of which Raymond was informed by an enigmatical letter from his wife, rendered it necessary for him to withdraw his forces from the post he had so lately gained, as their presence was required in other parts of the kingdom; and having no alternative, he formally committed the city to O’Brien to hold for the King of England; informing him that, having by submission become a subject of England, the king fully confided in the fidelity and zeal with which he would perform the trust reposed in him. But no sooner had Raymond evacuated Limerick, than it was set on fire in four places by order of O’Brien, with the declaration that it should no longer be a nest to harbour strangers. Leland adds, when this transaction was reported to Henry II., as prejudicial to Raymond, that prince generously remarked - “the first gaining of Limerick was a noble exploit, the recovery of it still nobler, but the only act of wisdom was the abandoning this conquest.”
 Until the death of Donald O’Brien, in 1194, the English cannot be said to have regained Limerick, as the possession was obstinately disputed by the Irish, who again secured their triumph by reducing the city to ashes. With the faithless and untractable O’Brien this mode of ruinous warfare terminated; and Ferrar, in his Civic History, tells us, as a proof of the importance of Limerick, that King Richard, {39} in the ninth year of his reign, granted it a charter to elect a mayor: an honour, which London did not obtain until ten years after, and Dublin not before the year 1318.
 King John, who came to Ireland in 1210, is said to have visited Limerick; and, as memorials of his visit, caused the present Thomond Bridge, and a castle still distinguished by his name, to be erected; both of these buildings appear conspicuously in Mr. Nicholson’s view of the place; the former is perfectly level, and, although exceedingly narrow, an admirable piece of masonry, having withstood without much injury the rapid current of the Shannon above six hundred years.

The confusion of parties and the distracted state of Ireland during the reign of Charles I has been already noticed.
 On the breaking out of these disturbances, Captain Courtney headed the adherents of Charles in Limerick, not amounting to more than two hundred, and though short of ammunition and provisions, maintained the castle for several days, trusting to supplies by water from Sir Henry Stradling, and that Sir William St. Leger, the Lord President of Munster, would be enabled to raise the siege. But Sir William, depressed by the neglect which the emergencies of Charles rendered unavoidable, and exhausted by his ineffectual devotion and personal exertions in the cause of his monarch, became a victim to them, surviving only to hear that the gallant Captain Courtney had been compelled to surrender Limerick, after defending his post until it was no longer tenable. Lord Muskerry, Garret Barry, and other leaders of the Irish, immediately took possession of the town; a capture of much benefit to their cause, as they obtained by it some {40} cannon, one of which was a thirty-two pounder, that terrified all the castles of the county Limerick into immediate submission, with the exception of Askeaton, which was however soon reduced.
 In August, 1646, the Irish having stipulated for a treaty with the Marquess Ormond, it was agreed that hostilities should be mutually suspended, and Dr. Roberts, the Ulster King of Arms, was sent to the principal towns to proclaim the peace; he arrived at Limerick on the 20th of the same month, but his appearance tended only to excite opposition and outrage. When Dr. Roberts reached the market cross, attended by the mayor and aldermen of the city, for the purpose of reading the proclamation, a vast mob was assembled and a serious riot ensued. Burke the mayor was trodden under foot, and severely wounded; and Dr. Roberts, having received several dangerous cuts, narrowly escaped with his life. These disorderly proceedings, which are ascribed to the religious intrigues of Rinuncini, the papal nuncio, were followed by the deposition and imprisonment of the mayor, whose office was bestowed on Dominick Fanning, the leader of the rioters.
 Lord Ormond, however, considering the possession of Limerick to be of the utmost consequence, endeavoured by various means to become master of it; but although professing amity to Charles, the confederate Irish, over whom the nuncio and his party had now obtained complete influence, flushed by their momentary superiority, and regardless of future consequences, conducted themselves with insolence and intemperance towards Lord Ormond, meanly doubting and idly hesitating at all offers made by that nobleman, whom they insulted by mock conferences and vexatious quibbles, whilst they openly set his and all other authority at defiance. All endeavours made by Ormond, whether to command or to conciliate, were equally vain. The mandate of a single friar was sufficient with the soldiery to counteract the orders of their leader, and the most trivial {41} occurrence became a pretext for popular tumult, which the magistracy rather encouraged than suppressed.
 Wearied by such obstinate conduct, and unable longer even to temporize with the garrison of Limerick, Lord Ormond embarked at Galway for France, and the small body of Royalists which he had headed, merged into the Irish ranks and became sharers in the defence of Limerick, against the Parliamentary army.
 Sir Hardress Waller had already threatened it, but early in 1651, Ireton appeared before the city, which he closely besieged for six months, and exerted all his energies to gain.
 The victory obtained by Lord Broghill over the forces of Lord Muskerry, who had marched towards Limerick with a view of relieving it, (of which action a more particular notice will be found in a subsequent paper,) hastened its surrender, and added to this discouraging event, a contagious fever raged within the walls, to the violence of which many had fallen victims. Contrary to the calculation and advice of O’Neil, the governor, who had before so bravely defended Clonmell against the troops of Cromwell, and the threat of excommunication uttered by the Bishops of Limerick and Emly, a treaty was determined on, but, says Leland, “in the hour of terror and danger, their spiritual authority was utterly disregarded.”
 Colonel Fennel, who early in these transactions was reputed to have betrayed the pass of Killaloe to Ireton, thus affording a safe and easy communication with the county Clare, and the western parts of Ireland, having obtained from the mayor the keys of the city, seized John’s Tower, and refused to obey the directions of the governor. In this treacherous conduct he was supported by the mayor, who furnished him with powder, when, turning the cannon on the town, and having admitted two hundred of Ireton’s soldiers, Colonel Fennel declared that he would not quit his post, until the garrison surrendered. An hopeless option only remaining, articles {42} were signed on the 27th October, 1651, granting to the inhabitants their lives and property, with the exception by name of twenty of the most prominent characters, most of whom had been the active opponents of Ormond.
 Of these, O’Dwyer, Bishop of Limerick, who marched out in the disguise of a soldier amongst the troops, and O’Neil, the governor, escaped execution. The latter, who had exasperated the Republicans by the spirit he had formerly evinced, fearlessly met Ireton at the city gates, and pointed out to him sufficient ammunition and provisions to have lasted three months longer, at the same time adverting severely on the treacherous proceeding of Colonel Fennell. Ireton caused O’Neil to be tried by a court-martial, which sentenced him to death; but, on a remonstrance founded on some informality, he was again tried, and his life saved by the majority of a single voice.
 Of O’Brien, Bishop of Emly, Dr. Bourke gives the following account in the Hiberni[c]a Dominicana.

In 1690 Limerick again received the Irish forces, as they may be more justly termed than those of James, who had abandoned them. {43} After the defeat which that monarch experienced at the Boyne, the remains of his army, under the Duke of Berwick, Colonel Sarsfield, and Boislieu, the French general, retreated to Limerick as their last resource, and its defence was entrusted to the latter officer. When King William (who in person appeared before the walls) summoned it to surrender, the governor made the following memorable reply in a letter to Sir Robert Southwell, Secretary of State; “not sending directly to the king,” says Story, “because he would avoid giving him the title of Majesty”; that he was surprised at the demand, and thought the best way to gain the Prince of Orange’s good opinion was by a vigorous defence of the town for his master King James.
 Some delay taking place in the arrival of the artillery to commence the siege, Colonel Sarsfield made a secret and rapid sally from Limerick with five hundred dragoons, crossing the Shannon at Killaloe; and succeeded, by his knowledge of the country, in surprising and capturing the ammunition-waggons and cannon, which latter he filled with powder, and placing their mouths in the ground fired a train that burst them with a terrific explosion, and announced their destruction to a party under Sir John Lanier, who had been sent to protect them. Nor was the bravery displayed in the enterprize less conspicuous than the skill with which Sarsfield effected his retreat without coming to an action, notwithstanding the efforts made to intercept him.
 This event threw a severe damp on the confidence of the besiegers, whom it compelled to suspend the vigour of their operations for a week, until the arrival of another supply of ordnance from Waterford, and had at the same time the effect of inspiring the besieged with fresh spirit.
 During the siege, William persevered in his wonted activity and example of personal exposure, having several narrow escapes from the enemy’s shot. {44} A breach about twelve yards in length near John’s Gate being effected on the 27th August, orders were issued for the assault. At a given signal five hundred grenadiers ran towards the counterscarp, “firing their pieces, throwing their grenades,” and were fiercely opposed by the Irish; “so that in less than two minutes the noise was so terrible that one would have thought the very skies ready to rent in sunder.” “This was seconded with dust, smoke, and all the terrors that the art of man could invent to ruine and undo one another; and to make it the more uneasie, the day itself was excessively hot to the bystanders, and much more sure in all respects to those in action.”
 The Irish retreating before the storming party, their ardour hurried them on into the town, whilst the regiments ordered to support them stopped short at the counterscarp, and they who led the attack were all either killed or wounded. The defenders, having rallied, returned with renewed and desperate valour to the breach, the women even mingling in their ranks, and sharing in the fight; and, after three hours uninterrupted firing, “insomuch that the smoke that went from the town reached in one continued cloud to the top of a mountain at least six miles off,” the besiegers were forced to retire to their trenches, having expended all their ammunition. Some powder taking fire in a small work called the Black Battery, that had been seized by the Brandenburgh Regiment, most of these soldiers were blown into the air. A truce demanded by King William the next morning, for burying the dead, was refused; and, notwith-standing he offered the Irish favourable terms, to which Lord Tyrconnell was willing to accede, Boislieu, the governor, determined to hold out to the last, justly regarding, although the cause of James was desperate, the capitulation of Limerick to be fatal to it.
 Dean Story has left us an animated account of the siege, and in some measure relieved its horrors by the occasional quaintness of his style. “I remember,” writes he, “we were all as well {45} pleased to see the town flaming as could be, which made me reflect upon our profession of soldiery not to be overcharged with good-nature.”
 The unsettled state of public affairs in England requiring William’s personal attention, he embarked for that country immediately after this severe repulse at Limerick, and that garrison became the refuge of all the smaller ones which successively surrendered to his troops.
 Early in the year 1691, St. Ruth, a meritorious but arrogant officer, arrived from France to replace Boislieu, with a small sum of money, and the promise of extensive succours; and Tyrconnell, the former agent of despotism and bigotry, also returned from the same country, with inconsiderable supplies, accompanied by Sir Richard Nagle and Sir Stephen Rice. Dissension and intrigue arose between the French and Irish leaders (military as well as civil), and the contagion was communicated to those under their controul. The French reproached the Irish with their treachery, meanness and barbarous condition; and the Irish retorted on the French foppishness, insincerity, and frivolity of disposition, terming the large boots in which they strutted, “leathern trunks”; the result was, the most violent disputes and factions, to which Tyrconnell became a victim, poison, as it is believed, having been administered to him in a cup of ratafia. According to Sir John Dalrymple, he died, “lamenting with his last breath the miseries he had brought on his country.” Such was the end of him, whom Lord Bellasis describes as “fool and madman enough to ruin ten kingdoms.” But of whatever unconstitutional and arbitrary measures Tyrconnell may formerly have been guilty, and he is no doubt with justice accused, his latter conduct appears that of a real patriot, alive to the ruinous effects of civil warfare, and willing to sacrifice his own feelings for the restoration of tranquillity and the general advantage of the nation.
 On the retreat of William, and the successful defence of Limerick, the Irish, ever ardent and enthusiastic, anticipated confidently a {46} favourable and victorious campaign, and the French officers were willing by every means in their power to protract the war. One more effort was therefore made in the field under the direction of St. Ruth, who fell in the battle of Aughrim on the 12th July, 1691, and whose fate decided that of the day. A misunderstanding which existed between that general and Sarsfield, (created by James, Lord Lucan,) on whom the command devolved, prevented the mutual understanding and co-operation so necessary to the success of an army; and the Irish were completely routed by the troops of William, commanded by General Ginkell.
 As a last resource Limerick became again the retreat of the adherents of James; and its former defence encouraged the hope that it might a second time be maintained with equal success. Ginkell, warned by the defeat of William, made his approaches with caution, endeavouring by proclamations of pardon and protection to induce the Irish to lay down their arms. Of this second siege, which occupied about six weeks, the severest feature was an action that took place on Thomond Bridge, where many lives were lost, and in which the conduct of a French officer, who hastily ordered the drawbridge to be raised, thus sacrificing a considerable body of the Irish, confirmed the dislike that had existed on the popular side towards their allies.
 As the winter was fast approaching, Ginkell determined if possible to secure the place, and on the 23d September, the garrison having beat a parley, a cessation of hostilities was agreed to. Terms were offered by him of so favourable a nature that they were gladly accepted by the besieged, and the articles of the capitulation bear date the 3d October, 1691. These conditions may be found at length in almost every work on Irish history, and their supposed violation has occasioned much political discussion of so severe and intemperate a character that it is difficult even to comment with impartiality on these transactions.
 Colonel Luttrell, an officer in the Irish army, although completely {47} vindicated in Lord Westmeath’s letter to Mr. Harris of the charge, is still stigmatized as the betrayer of an important passage of the Shannon. On stormy nights, when gusts of wind agitate the river,

the neighbouring fisherman or peasant usually execrates “that traitor Luttrell, whose spirit is abroad shrieking on the waters.”
 After the surrender of Limerick nineteen thousand men embarked for France, and were embodied into twelve regiments, which became distinguished in the history of Europe as the Irish Brigade. Amongst the charges strongly brought against the English is the breach of faith in preventing the women from emigrating with their husbands. There is a melody, as yet unpublished, which I have heard Mr. Bunting perform, said to have been sung on this occasion; it consists of a lamentation, and a chorus that interrupts, as it were, by a passionate burst of grief, the mournful wildness of the air.
 The gallant Sarsfield was killed in the battle of Landen, and the following lines are to be found under an engraving of his “Portraiture.”

 On the 3d March, 1692, the war was declared by proclamation to have terminated in Ireland, and Limerick slowly recovered from its violent effects. That city was long regarded by the English government with peculiar watchfulness and distrust, lest the exiled family of the Stuarts might still find adherents within its walls. Sixty years were allowed to elapse after the siege before this strictness was relaxed, its gates thrown open, and its bastions permitted to remain without sentinels. No less than seventeen gates were in existence {48} about the middle of the last century, which were guarded and regularly locked every night.
 A statement of the military arrangement of Ireland transmitted from Dublin to Mr. Edgar, Secretary to the Pretender, in 1726, contains the following paragraph:

 Gloves are modern articles that have conferred celebrity on Limerick, and were not neglected in my inquiries; but I found them dearer than in London, and the reason given was, “that they had to be brought from Cork, where they were principally made.”
 Limerick is divided, like almost every town in Ireland, into English Town and Irish Town; the former, generally called New Town Perry, has some well-built and handsome streets; the best houses are of red brick, much in the style of London, with areas and a flagged pavement, which makes the place more agreeable to the pedestrian than Cork. The old, or Irish Town, “which Shanon,” saith Camden, “a most famous river, by parting his chanell, compasseth round about,” is picturesque, narrow and dirty, the houses high, with peculiar old-fashioned gable ends towards the street.
 After the inns and uncertain accommodations we had met with in our circuitous journey, Swinburne’s Hotel, which is excellent, appeared so to us in an eminent degree; rooms furnished with carpets and sofas having become quite a luxury.
 The custom-house and barracks are respectable buildings, and these, with the cathedral, form the architectural boast of Limerick. The latter is dedicated to St. Mary, and was founded by the O’Brien family on the site of the palace of Donald O’Brien, King of Limerick. It is a large and heavy edifice, and has from without an appearance of clumsiness and neglect; nor will an examination of the interior dissipate this impression. The whole pavement of the church {49} seemed composed of a jumble of inscribed flag stones, many of which had been cut to fit a required space, and on others such inscriptions and tracery as happened to have been in high relief were chiseled down in the most wanton manner; two or three ornamented fleury crosses, which had escaped this general mutilation, were so placed that the step of every passenger along the nave assisted to obliterate them; in the aisle leading to the vestry-room an ancient Gothic tomb, richly wrought, was rapidly falling to decay from the most unfeeling neglect. Whilst I was engaged in viewing it, the guide, with a large heavy key, stood idly chipping away some of the minutely carved ornaments; - never did I feel more forcibly the nothingness of human vanity than in this cathedral. The defaced “Hic Jacet” and the worn “Obiit,” the last effort at distinction, marking, even in death, the superiority of the feudal lord and the mitred abbot over their dependents, were daily trampled into oblivion without a thought! - Respect for the dead ought to be encouraged; it is in harmony with all the gentler and social virtues of our nature; and, although the effort to perpetuate our memory by means of stone or brass be idle, it is painful to see the silent movements of decay accelerated by the ignorant or the listless.
 The great east window is large, but every way inelegant; near the Communion Table is a monument of considerable size, to Donough, Lord Thomond, who was Lord President of Munster, and died in 1624, which, the inscription informs us, having been injured and defaced in the commotions of Charles I’s time, was restored in 1678.
 Against pillars in the nave are two singular inscriptions:

 This Mr. Hayes was a gentleman of some fortune and very eccentric habits, who died in London, in 1767, whence his remains were brought to be interred at Limerick, and the foregoing lines, by his {50} own direction, were placed over them. He bequeathed his entire property to the support of the public hospital of the city; but his heirs opposed the will by law, and obtained a verdict in their favour. Hayes’s Poetical Works have been collected, and underwent two editions; but, judging from the specimens which I have seen quoted, his verses were extremely pompous and insipid, and are now scarcely remembered.
 The other inscription is

 During the several sieges, the cathedral was considered an important station, being, from the necessities of the times, converted to military purposes. In 1642, the Irish threw their shot from thence into John’s Tower defended by Captain Courtney; and the garrison of Limerick, consisting of 2500 men, laid down their arms to Ireton in the cathedral when he became master of the place. In the last resistance of the city, the troops of William were much annoyed by a skilful fire from the steeple, against which they directed their cannon, until checked by the orders of General Ginkell, who was anxious to preserve so venerable a structure. At Mungret, a short distance from Limerick, was a monastic foundation, of which the Psalter of Cashel gives an almost incredible account - that it had {51}  “within its walls six churches, containing, exclusive of scholars, 1500 religious, 500 of whom were learned preachers, 500 psalmists, and the remaining 500 wholly applied themselves to spiritual exercises.”
 “As wise as the women of Mungret” is a common local proverb; and Ferrar, in his History of Limerick, gives the subjoined explanation:

 The appellations of Tory and Rapparee frequently occur in the periods of Irish history connected with Limerick, and as the former is one by which a political party is at present distinguished, some account of these terms may not be unacceptable.
 In the civil wars under Elizabeth the epithet Tory is supposed to have originated, and was applied only to the peasantry. Sir Henry Sydney, the Lord Deputy, according to Sir Richard Cox, “cursed, hated and detested Ireland above all other countries; not that he had any dislike to the country, but that it was most difficult to do any service there, where a man must struggle with famine and fastnesses, inaccessible bogs and light-footed Tories.” During the rebellion of 1641, the name was bestowed on such individuals as at {52} first professed to remain neutral in the contention, but who ultimately - perhaps urged by their loss of property and consequent distress - took up arms with a view of reprisal or revenge on those by whom they had been reduced to absolute ruin. English and Irish - Protestant and Catholic Republican and Loyalist, were alike their common enemies; and Tories, being joined by men of desperate fortunes, united themselves into bodies; and, in fact, became formidable gangs of freebooters, who harassed the regular troops of all parties without distinction. The name, therefore, was one of reproach, and “Tory hunting” was almost viewed in the light of a pastime. An old rhyme in allusion to this sport is still orally current in the South of Ireland, and a decided favourite in the nursery collection.

 Defoe has accounted for the introduction of the name into England, by telling us that the famous Titus Oates may be considered as its real godfather, and relates the following anecdote respecting it.

 Rapparee has much the same meaning as Tory, and is derived from an Irish word signifying a half-stick or broken beam resembling a half-pike, from whence the name was given to such as carried this weapon and did not belong to the regular troops of either army, but provided themselves, in the best way they could, with pikes, daggers or skeins, and such instruments of offence as could be readily manufactured.
 The Tories in the time of Charles I, however, appear to have originally received more provocation, and their conduct can be better vindicated than that of the Rapparees of William’s. It is asserted, (and with strong claims to belief,) that the Irish commanders of James’s army encouraged, by written protections, the Rapparees to surprise and plunder the straggling and detached parties of William’s forces - particularly during the winter, when general hostilities were suspended, - by which means they not only harassed them extremely, but accumulated a supply of horses and muskets that enabled the Irish to bring an additional number of men into the field the ensuing season.
 When a Rapparee became a prisoner, the gallows instantly terminated his fate, and it is stated by Mr. Lesley that many poor harmless country people became victims to military legislation; but the necessity is obvious that no quarter should be given to men who lurked in ambush, ready to spring on their prey at every favourable opportunity, and whose acquaintance with the country enabled them to lie concealed in the most artful and treacherous manner.

 This account, although ridiculed by some writers, I see no reason to question, as, during the years 1793 and 1794, the disaffected in the north of Ireland concealed both themselves and their arms from the soldiery sent to disperse their meetings in a similar manner.
 The White Serjeant, Galloping Hogan, Redmond O’Hanlon, Ned of the Hills, and Iron Mac Kabe are the names and titles by which some of the most noted Rapparee leaders were distinguished.
 A History of the Irish Rogues and Rapparees is at present one of the most popular books amongst the peasantry, and has circulated to an extent that almost seems incredible; nor is it unusual to hear the adventures and escapes of highwaymen and outlaws recited by the lower orders with the greatest minuteness, and dwelt on with a surprising fondness.
 Killaloe, a pass of the Shannon thirteen miles above Limerick, (the consequence of which has been mentioned more than once in the preceding Historical Sketch,) is a bishop’s see of considerable antiquity. The town is built upon the ascent of a hill, and surrounded by well shaped mountains; a long bridge of many arches extends across the river, which is here wide and shallow. Mr. Nicholson’s drawing combines the most important features of the place, which wears a poor appearance and seems to be little frequented by strangers, as the inn, if it deserves the name, included the business {55} of publican, linendraper, hosier and chandler under the same roof. One room was appropriated for a table d’hote, where my companion and myself joined a noisy good-humoured clerical party, none of whom could be accused of fastidiousness. On my rising to ring the bell, a jolly looking parson, observing that I sought for one in vain, exclaimed, “May be ’tis a bell you’re looking for; and are you so unreasonable then as to expect to find one, sir?”
 Killaloe, in former days, was the resort of many religious pilgrims attracted by its reputed sanctity; and the walls of some old buildings are still to be seen in its vicinity. Little more is known of the cathedral than the name of the founder, St. Molua, (whom Dr. Ledwich declares an imaginary saint,) and his disciple and successor St. Flannan, who was consecrated bishop about the year 639. The building of the present cathedral is attributed to the O’Brien family, many of whom are buried here. A Saxon arch in the wall on the south side of the nave, although evidently a portal, is called the tomb of Brien Boru’; it is enriched by some florid and beautiful carving, which affords a whimsical display of ornament. In the churchyard stands an oratory, or stone roofed chapel, supposed to be of remote construction, and certainly of a much earlier date than the cathedral. Both gable ends contain portals; that on the west side is adorned with mouldings, and the east side, here sketched, appears to have had a building with a lower roof attached to it.
 An excursion which I made from Limerick to visit the Rev. R. Dickson of Vermont, enabled me to examine two of the most considerable {56} architectural remains in the western part of the county: the castle of Carrigogunnel, and the ecclesiastical ruins at Adair. The former is five miles distant from Limerick, and is one of the largest castles I remember to have seen in Ireland. It stands on an abrupt limestone rock, and commands an extensive view, across the Shannon, of the County Clare and the low grounds termed “Corcass Land,” which form the banks of that river. Its building is ascribed to the O’Brien family [1]; and, according to Archdale, it belonged at one period to the Association of Knight Templars. From its situation and extent, this pile must have been formerly a place of much importance,

 About the year 1537, Cox informs us that, through stipulation and treachery, Carrigogunnel was lost and won more than once by the followers of the Earl of Desmond and those sent to reduce that turbulent chieftain and the country to tranquillity. At the siege of {57} Limerick, after the battle of Aughrim, it was garrisoned by 150 men, adherents of James II, but surrendered without resistance to Major General Scravenmore, “the leaving these detachments in such places,” remarks Story, “being very unaccountable, since they had a mind to defend them no better. This seems,” continues the same writer, “rather a want of instructions what to do than courage to perform it, for, to give the Irish their due, they can defend stone walls very handsomely.” The castle was considered so tenable a position, that it was deemed expedient to destroy it, and it was accordingly blown up, together with Castle Connell; Dean Story receiving no less a sum than 160£ for the purchase of gunpowder to ruin these fortresses.
 The violent effect of the explosion is still evident in the dilapidated remains of Carrigogunnel. Massive fragments of the walls and towers lie scattered around in a confusion not unpicturesque, and it is a matter of some difficulty to trace the original plan. A drawing of its distant effect is annexed.
 Near this castle Charles Johnson, the author of Chrysal, or the Adventures of a Guinea, and other works, was born in 1719, and received his education at the diocesan school of Limerick.
 At Faha, the seat of Mr. Tuthill, between Carrigogunnel and Adair, a meteoric stone of considerable size, which fell there in 1815, was shown me by Mrs. Tuthill. It weighs, I imagine, nearly half a hundred weight, although there is an appearance of a piece having been struck off it.
 Adair is a small and neat village, eight miles west of Limerick, and deserving the particular notice both of the antiquary and the artist from its assemblage of ancient monastic edifices. It is well situated on the River Maig, which passes through the richly wooded and extensive park of Mr. Quin, and is navigable for small vessels.
 One of these abbeys is at present converted into a Roman Catholic chapel, and another, larger and more perfect, into a Protestant {58} church, the cloisters of which latter are in excellent preservation, but it contains little more that merits examination.
 The third abbey stands within Mr. Quin’s demesne, and, surrounded by venerable trees, becomes a most impressive and romantic object. The seclusion and beauty of its situation are calculated to excite poetic feelings in the mind, which are heightened by the gloom of ash and ancient yew trees, that almost darken the cloisters at noon-day.
 Some years since, the ground within its walls was levelled, and most of the tombs and inscriptions destroyed by order of the proprietor, to prevent the abbey being used as a burial ground. A pious superstition deterred the peasantry from disturbing the ashes of the dead, and no one could be procured to perform so sacrilegious an act - as if they feared the fulfilment of Shakspeare’s threatening epitaph would be the consequence of the violation:

 A party of soldiers were brought from Limerick for the purpose, who soon completed the work, and “the trim grassy aisle” replaced the legends commemorative of the old fathers and feudal chiefs. Some monumental and confessional niches have escaped, and may still be seen. In the cloisters I found two little carved fragments; one of these was an escutcheon charged with a cross saltire; the other, a figure in rude bas-relief about eighteen inches high, representing a grey friar, as appears from the costume. These abbies were founded by the Earls of Kildare, and were granted, on the dissolution of monasteries, to Sir Henry Wallop. The ruins of an extensive castle also stand within Mr. Quin’s demesne. In the wars of Elizabeth’s time it was a post warmly contested by the Irish and Spanish followers of Desmond with the English, who were driven to extremes by a blockade, and out of necessity compelled {59} to hazard a desperate excursion into the Knight of Glen’s country, where a severe skirmish of eight hours took place, in which the English came off without much loss, having killed fifty of their opponents. Shortly after the death of Desmond it was seized by the Lord Kerry, and the garrison put to the sword, but Captain Zouch obliged him to abandon it. {60}

Notes