WALKS THROUGH IRELAND, THE YEARS 1812. 18l4, AND 1817

DESCRIBED IN A SERIES OF LETTERS TO AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN

by

JOHN BERNARD TROTTER, Esq.

PRIVATE SECRETARY TO THE LATE RIGHT HON. C. J FOX, Esq.,

Non hic mihi primus, erga populum Romamum fidei et constantiæ dies:— ex quo à deus Augusto civitate donitus sum amicos inimicosque ex vestris utilitatibus delegi; neque odio patriae (quippe proditores, etiam iis quos aantiponunt invisirunt) verum, quia Romanus, Germanis que idem conducere: et pacem quam bellum probabem. — Tacit.“

LONDON: Published by SIR. RICHARD PHILLIPS and Co. Bride-Court, Bridge-Streeti.

AND SOLD BY JOHN CUMMING, DUBLIN.

1819.

W. Lewis, Printer, Finch lane, Cornhill.

FIRST WALK: TO BAG AND BUN, THE LANDING-PLACE OF THE ENGLISH IN 1169, IN THE COUNTY OF WEXFORD, IN 1812.

Aughavenny, Co. Wicklow. June 12, 1813

My Dear L.

Having long thought of making some considerable walks in Ireland, to view those natural beauties which abound in it, and to observe the character of the people, I have this day commenced my first tour, the prelude to others, and shall send you the fruits of my observations.

A very small party accompany me, and in describing this, as well as my future tours, I shall always use the term “we” without farther explanation, unless where I venture to give peculiar opinions of my own. I shall also endeavour to give you as much information, and as just views as possible of Ireland, and likewise as much of picturesque description as may be agreeable and necessary.

[2] You will consider Me as a stranger, viewing; this charming country, with impartial eyes, but not forgetful of the claims the British Empire has on me as a citizen, and an attached friend to her glorious constitution. I please myself to think that no other person has attempted the same kind of task, and, whatever may be its execution, you will not, I hope, doubt the purity of my motives. Divided by parties, Ireland presents many difficulties to a writer. He cannot please all — perhaps none. Neither can he hope to succeed much better in Great Britain. Prejudices on various sides exist. The impartial observer is sure to offend, where he shocks them, and he becomes anathematized, but too frequently for pronouncing truths for which he deserves praise. Yet the field for observation is so fine, and the people of Ireland are so interesting from their history, their misfortunes and the. rays of genius, which sparkle through all their disadvantages, that I freely take up my pen, and shall experience unspeakable satisfaction if you think a result at all favourable to Ireland might be produced, by conveying truth in a pleasing channel to the well-meaning of all sides.

Would that a minister or prince might condescend to read these letters which I address to you; they might, perhaps, then derive some knowledge from them, which they could not otherwise acquire; and wholesome truths respecting the [3] beautiful island, son which I shall write, might thus penetrate the abode of royalty, and the recesses of cabinets!

You know me too well to suppose that I am the dependant of any party, a lover of tumult, of gain, or of popularity. I am a zealous, though humble friend, to our great commonwealth, and whilst other men labour meritoriously for it in various ways, and receive various, and splendid rewards, I am satisfied to set out on my Walks, to extract instruction from the lovely book of nature, and if I can possibly help to relieve the oppressed, how sweet, though unobserved, shall be my reward!

In the month of June, having made some simple preparations, our party set out from the metropolis, on our way to Wicklow, so justly celebrated for its beauties. Dublin is extremely handsome, but its public buildings are too magnificent for the metropolis of so small an island. It has, however, lost much of its splendour, as well as most of the nobles and gentry, since the union, a measure of somewhat doubtful,' though certainly well-meant, policy. The morning was cool, and we set forward with great alacrity.

On reaching Harold’s-cross, a respectable village, a mile from the city, we perceived on the right a venerable mansion embowered in trees. It was the residence of Mr. John Keogh, of whom a gentleman of our party gave this account: — “Mr. Keogh is a Catholic merchant, of enterprize and [4] genius. He has realized a large fortune, and lives in happy retirement, in the bosom of his family. He has done more for his country than all the declaimers in the Irish Parliament for half a century. Feeling acutely for what he conceived the cruel and unjust degradation of his Catholic fellow-citizens, and participating in it, he made strenuous and successful efforts to relieve them. He formed one of a committee, which emanated many vigorous, but prudent resolutions, and guided instead of following the population of a great city. It was at last agitated in committee to apply to ministers. Every one objected the probable futility of the measure. Mr. K. dissented. ‘Permit me to go, though alone,” said he, ‘and I answer for the success of our application.’” They assented. Mr. Keogh went to London, and had an audience of Mr. Dundas. He stated, temperately and perspicuously, the wants of the Catholics. That able minister heard him with attention and respect. The Act of 1798 was soon after passed, and Mr. K. derived from his exertions the most heart-felt pleasure. He may be called the regenerator of the Catholic Cause in Ireland, which has subsequently suffered so much by intemperance. This gentleman has a commanding person, fine countenance, and is endowed with a nervous and powerful eloquence. He may be deemed a natural genius; for he soared above a depressing [5] situation, educated himself, *and is singularly happy in private society, in enforcing his opinions by argument deduced from facts and books, though he listens with the gentlest politeness; and every one leaves, his company, both pleased and instructed“

As we proceeded we reached Rathfarham-bridge. The beauty that presented itself to our eyes was great. A charming river ran through a small vale! Lord Ely’s improvements, and numerous distant country-houses, crowned by the enchanting Dublin mountains, formed an almost unrivalled coup d’oeil. The village of Rathfarnham is trifling, and gives no favourable idea of Irish cleanliness. We passed through a pretty country towards the mountains, from which the party who were to have seconded the mistaken and criminal views of Mr. Robert Emmett, in 1803, were to have descended on Dublin. He himself resided nearer the city. This unfortunate and ill-advised young gentleman sacrificed himself, in a lamentable manner, to the offended laws, through the suggestions of low and ill-disposed advisers. Gifted with no common talents; — amiable, enthusiastic, and generous! — he mistook party for public good, and bestowed himself on a designing few, when he fancied he was labouring for his country! How melancholy, my dear L. that genius should thus fail! How must we detest its betrayers! The [6] sun broke out as we turned towards the mountains, and our walk became more cbeerful, which the above gloomy ideas had somewhat saddened.

To the left, we perceived the modest villa of the Right Honourable John P. Curran, nestled amongst handsome trees, and commanding a fine view of Dublin, its environs, &c,; it formed, amongst many other charming villas and improvements, a pleasing object. The very celebrated character who resided there, became the subject of our conversation. I had often heard and admired his eloquence, and been diverted by his sportive pleasantry and wit. Yet be had never seemed to me happy: too great a desire for admiration, and a temper which had never undergone , early melioration and subjugation, were his greatest enemies! He did not read enough to fully cultivate his mind and supply him with sufficient home resources, and, perhaps, his company was too often ill-selected. These were some observations we made on passing the country-seat of an orator who has had great flights, but has also had many aberations [sic] in his career. Of Irish genius, it may be said — if 1 be permitted to compare it to a flower — that it blows too soon, and its fruits are consequently too frequently immature! Yet, what is wanting but due cultivation? It springs every where, and has the brightest tints. They certainly do not read enough in [7] Ireland, and generally leave off at the time study becomes most useful. They decide too rapidly — often do not think — but pronounce — and sometimes lose the benefits of well-considered arguments aiid clear reasoning, by disdaining the one, and not having patience for the other. Nor is the distinguished character just mentioned an exception to these remarks. In conversation I have never observed him profound, or demonstrative. Ridicule was his favourite weapon, which is often a substitute for more powerful attack, or the shelter for ignorance. He frequently made speeches in private society, and sermons in his speeches. This too was proof of bad taste. For solid genius, 1 do not at all hesitate to prefer Mr. Keogh. His truly was a mighty mind, which, placed in another sphere, or not having overwhelming disabilities to bear it down, might have regulated states, or reformed a people. But I am delaying; and my party are ascending the mountains by a winding and pleasing road. I hasten to rejoin them.

As we pursued our way the prospect grew incomparably beautiful, till we reached a cottage of Killihu [sic] mountain, about four miles from Dublin, where we proposed to breakfast, having provided ourselves with tea, sugar, &c. &c. From hence we beheld a beautiful and extended plain at our feet, studded with villas, noble mansions, and cottages. Here and there a river winded to the sea. Woods were interspersed, and fertile fields of grain. The delightful Bay of Dublin, covered [8] with many white sails of vessels, going and returnings terminated by the picturesque small mountain of Howth — the peninsula, and thickly inhabited coasts near Dublin — charmed the eye. Its blue and glossy surface seemed that of a lovely lake! The pigeon-house and light-house stretched far into it, and the animated appearance of commerce enlivened it in every part. The Black Rock, Dunleary, and Dalkey, with its venerable island, bounded it on the right. At its extremity stood the city of Dublin, sending forth the smoke of early-lighted fires, and having all the appearance of a great and wealthy emporium. Alas! in that metropolis, how many conflicting cares were distracting the hearts of men! What heart-burnings and jealousies! How fatally was the religion of peace just going to be used as a justification for the measures of cold and mercenary oppression! The lovely scene looked less beautiful; and I was willingly prevailed on to enter the cottage, where our breakfast was already prepared by the ever-ready and willing hand of Irish hospitality! Our fatigue rendered it also extremely pleasant. We inhaled the freshest mountain air:— from the open cottage-door we still enjoyed much of the noble prospect of the Bay;— and our kind hostess omitted no pains to make us comfortable. Nor was she mercenary; a very small recompense and a friendly farewell satisfied the good woman, and we resumed our journey. The road passed amongst these lofty -mountains; [9] and led us to scenery truly sublime. A deep valley was on our right, where we saw the river below roll tranquilly on; the cottages emitting the bluish smoke that winded spirally in the air, or spread itself on the impending rocks, and all the busy stir of happy agricultural mountaineers. As various sounds ascended, all cheerful and rural, it was still more pleasant. The road called military, (as it had been made to facilitate military purposes, since 1798) was excellent; and not only well, but tastefully laid out. We seemed walking in the aerial regions, and to have left for ever the busy and important haunts of man. Conversation flowed unimpeded, and we scarcely thought of the distance we had to go. Certainly, my dear L., I am partial, and not. without reason, to this mode of studying nature! In walking, there is no disagreeable sound of carriage-wheels, of horses’ feet, of whips, or of unharmonious [sic] voices! You are on a just level with nature. Every ditch is enriched with various minute vegetable beauties, which you observe with ease. The smallest note or twitter of the distant or passing bird is heard. You can at leisure contemplate the azure clouds, their changes, and the shadows they sometimes cast! While health joins the party too, to reward the pedestrian toils, the soul becomes, not only more animate4 but exalted! We continued to advance along our aerial terrace: every step produced a new change.

[10] As the road began to descend, a very fine prospect of part of Wicklow offered itself. A great scope of country, tolerably cultivated/ and the distant Wicklow mountains, formed this landscape. Unfortunately, a solitary barrack struck the eye. It had been erected a few years, tttd" was become useless. It deformed the picturesque scene, and excited no pleasing ideas. Whether marking the turbulence of the people, or arbitrary rule, the object was an unhappy one.

In a short time, however, we arrived at two beautiful small' lakes, near the road, called Loughchree. They were surrounded by mountains, and of a pellucid blue. Their shores were rocky, and their environs seemed the residence of peace and solitude! Not a habitation was to be seen! The heath and moss spread a green carpet every where, and clothed the mountain-sides in a charming manner, whilst a small shrub mixed its tender verdure here and there. Not even the solitary king’s-fisher, with rapid flight and short cry, broke the calm silence that reigned! Here we partook of some refreshment, and quite forgot the scenes we had left. The rest of our walk was wild and striking, and for nine miles we beheld neither house nor human being. Towards the close of the evening, we reached a valley called Macanuass. It extended three miles. A river ran through it, and for lonely beauty, and sweet simplicity, it cannot be excelled. Small farm-houses, [11] encircled with trees, here and there enlivened it.

This vale was, however, thinly, inhabited, and inspired mournful sentiments. We had recently left a city too populous for its wants, and full of misery in the manufacturing quarter, whence employment and happiness had fled. Already the unequal distribution of human industry in this island appeared! By this very route also had the English invaders, once perhaps, made their way to Dublin. We shall now retrace their steps to their landing-place. Since that period, (above six hundred years), what little real improvement has taken place! Have foreign politics, the internal distractions of England, or an original bad system, most retarded it? or has a spirit of vain and idle insubordination in Ireland impeded it? I am inclined to think the country has been little known, and much neglected by the English sovereigns, down to George the Third, who has done much to meliorate it, and for which the body of the people are thankful. But we are arrived at our humble inn, near the celebrated Glendaloch: at the bridge of Aughavanny, where we rest this night, the mountain-torrent rolls impetuously. The scene is grand and striking, but fatigue compels me to bid you adieu.

Wooden Bridge, County Wicklow, June 13, 1812.

Mr DEAR L.

After that profound repose in our cottage inn, which our mountain walk had conferred on us, we arose this morning much refreshed. The scenery was charming and sublime around us; for the sun had gilded every torrent, and lighted up every hedge and peaceful group of cattle. Mountains surrounded us, and the interesting and romantic Glendaloch, or glen of the two lakes, crowned the not very distant view. Its round tower and churches towered in mournful solitude, and its lakes glittered with the dawn’s early rays. We proceeded directly there, by a gentle descent and a walk of a mile. The morning salutations in Ireland are very gracious, and the replies are always peculiarly so. To your “Good morning” is always returned to you, “Good morning to you, kindly;” — to “God save you” — “God save you kindly” and the farewell of Dia agus smerri wid, or “God and the Virgin be with you” sounds soft and pious. We soon arrived at Glendaloch. I shall not exactly describe ruins so well-known, and so often delineated. A sketch may suffice.

This venerable seat of clerical learning in Ireland is seated in a mountain valley, through which passes a small river. A stream runs past the great [13] church and tower! Smaller churches are sprinkled around! At the upper lake is one ^romantically placed, where, many ages ago, a young foreign prince was interred. A few trees mingled amongst its ruins give it a most picturesque effect, as do a glen and waterfall near it, of a diminutive, but beautiful character. The upper lake rolled its pure waters on a silvery sand, ai}d was on various sides overhung with rocks covered with heath and moss. The celebrated bed of St. Bevin [sic for Kevin] is on the left, and romantically and even dangerously placed just over the water, and at a considerable height above. Many fabulous stories are still to)d here of the good saint, but you, I believe, will readily dispense with them. Tradition relates also accounts of the massacres and devastations made by the Danes in these holy retreats of science and religion. How unhappy such times, when these barbarous and perfidious men thus delighted in violating such sanctuaries, and extinguishing those lights of which they had so much need, but were too rude to respect! In those days they were the best depositories of knowledge in Europe.

The monastery is placed considerably lower in the vale than the church and tower. There are remains of curious architecture still in it. The tower, which rears its head with imposing majesty in this solitary and silent scene, is very perfect. Conjecture has been baffled to account for [14] these buildings. I think they may have served both as belfries and watch-towers. They showed us the site of a former city, adjoining Glendaloch, and the old market-cross; still remaining. Doubtless the great number of ecclesiastics, students, and servants here, required a large supply of many things, and a sort of market-town would readily be formed near so renowned and great a place as Glendaloch.

Yet, though learning and religion were muck and successfully cultivated at that period, it does not strike me that the state of Ireland at large grew improved. The want of one good government, perpetuated disorder and anarchy in the island, and literature was but a single flower that bloomed in the waste. To Glendaloch it is said various foreign princes and scholars resorted, nor could there be a more lovely spot for meditation and application to study. Here Dermot, King of Leinster, sent Lawrence, the celebrated Archbishop of Dublin, when a youth. He was of noble, I believe royal, birth, and it was intended to extinguish all ambitious views in him by placing him here. Lawrence grew a willing and enthusiastic servant of religion and the muses. The meads and groves, the lofty mountains, and sweet lakes of Glendaloch, purified and calmed his mind. He became one of the best and most exalted characters of his time. In the vales of Glendaloch, Lord Grey sustained a [15] shameful defeat from the Irish chieftains of this quarter, when he first came over Lord Deputy, under Queen Elizabeth. I perceived with pain, in these sequestered scenes, a great avidity for money, and more cunning than simplicity. And yet, my dear L., shall we be angry at the ignorant and perhaps starving peasant, or his family, for this thirst of gain, which has invaded every class of life, and causes almost every man to be estimated by the means in his purse, rather than by the qualities of his mind, or the acquirements of years?

We left Glendaloch highly gratified. Its venerable haunts afforded us many reflections, all favourable to Ireland, and her ancient monastic institutions; for there was great merit in a country which thus fostered seats of learning; where the soul was taught to soar to important truths; to scan the ways of the stars and planets, to study history and nature; in short, to rise to the Deity himself, through all his works, and to acknowledge the littleness of the ambition and the pursuits of men! Ireland in these, and in previous times, when Roman tyranny manacled the earth, was the sacred asylum where religion and science obtained shelter, and the feeble voice of liberty was heard.

On leaving Glendaloch, we entered a fine valley, with a pleasant river meandering through it; we also passed some woods, where the cheerful noise and movements of numerous wood-cutters attracted our attention. The picture was gay, and relieved [16] our minds from too serious thoughts. Happy privilege of the pedestrian; gradually changing, the scene is always new to him, and the fresh pages of the book of nature charm away melancholy, if it possess him.

Wishing to breakfast, we discovered an humble inn at the river side, and there we heartily enjoyed our meal. The river and its banks were charming, and a fine wood spread to our left. It gave me pain to. see here, for the first time, a miserable and dilapidated little chapel. Every edifice dedicated to God ought to be respectable and respected. Want of money was the cause of its ruined state. Having breakfasted, we walked through a long and cheerful vale to Rathdrum. There is a good deal of the flannel manufactory in this part of the county of Wicklow, and a handsome flannel hall, built by Earl FitzWilliam, at Rathdrum. But the people and their houses are wretched; their cattle small and bad. We learned that the gentry in this county have become great farmers^, and that the people are reducing more and more to the situation of cotters, rather serfs, or villains! The war has caused great prices for the produce of land, and has generated high rents or gigantic farmers, with 1500 or 2000 acres in their own hands. But labour is not raised in value, though the cottager lose all his land. He becomes annexed to an estate by the miserable tenure of necessity, and the rent of his roadside hovel is deducted from [17] hid yearly toil. His daily hire is 10d.; perhaps less. This is £12 per annum; deduct £11. 10s. or £2 for house-rent, £10. 10s. or £10 remain to procure potatoes, milk, clothes, medicine in case of illness; — to pay priest — send children to school, &c., &c., &c.! £10 which the gambler or man of fashion casts away in a moment, in the circles of London, is the sum on which the existence of this entire family depends! Yet the poor Irishman endures all with fortitude and humility, even with a degree of content. His common expressions are, however, very melancholy on enquiry into his circumstances. “The poor sir, have always suffered.” ; “It is God’s will it should be so” “The poor are little thought of in this country.” He will then sigh, and go to his daily toil. This system, my dear L., is a sad one! The degradation of the population of Ireland has endured from time immemorial, and they are themselves, somewhat to blame for it. They want an independence of mind, which produces independence of station, and, with too indolent and obsequious a caress, they hug their poverty to their bosoms. The cottager and small fanner might make his house decent and comfortable in some degree, which it seldom is, and he might make his garden neat and useful with some good vegetables, as well as adorn it with a few humble flowers and shrubs. No! he prefers sitting at the fire, or in the sun, or a lazy walk to the ale-house [18] in times of leisure, and leaves his little home as uncultivated and unadorned as his mind too frequently is. The system is erroneous, and too severely pursued by many, of exacting the utmost value of land by high rents or otherwise; but the most liberal of the gentry have a great deal to contend, with in the inveterate habits of these people. If a good lease of a large portion of ground be granted, they let and re-let; they divide and subdivide; and they do not think to improve so much as to sell the commodity of land at a high rate. The causes of all this, I fear, lie so deep that few English ministries will be fond of analysing them.

The country-people of Wicklow dress pretty well, are in general handsome, well-made, and very sagacious. Their communication with Dublin does not, however, improve them in any respect. Passing Rathdrum, a considerable and respectable country town, we arrived at Avondale, Mr. Parnell’s seat. It was made and greatly adorned by the late Colonel Hayes, who possessed true rural taste. This sweet place is charmingly situated, among grounds and woods, undulating in the most beautiful manner. The romantic mountains of Wicklow every where around it, give variety and grandeur to the scene. The house is sufficiently good. You pass through the demesne to see the cottage built by the late Mr. Hayes. The walk to it is [19] quite charming:, a fine river rolling on your left, and the scenery I have described every where in full view: nor does the cottage disappoint expectation. It is large, and made in a perfectly rural manner, thatched and ornamented with rustic wood-work. The river flows immediately past it, and the impending opposite bank is bold and romantic; embowered in trees, and sheltered from every breeze, it seems truly the ritual of domestic peace and of the Muses! With reluctance we left this sweet abode, so far removed from the . world’s noise, and all its wearisome pomp. The melodious sound of the waters murmuring along, the pleasant song of birds, and the fragrant verdure of every shrub and tree made it most delightful. Mr. Parnell was not at home, but we were received with great civility. This gentleman has distinguished himself by some writings in favour of Ireland, and bears a most amiable character. He has, we heard, set up a woollen manufactory near Rathdrum: but these things seldom do well in the hands of gentlemen unused to trade.

Leaving the fairy scenes of Mr. Parnell’s demesne, we regained the road, and, descending to the bridge and rivers, called, “The meeting of the Three Waters,” found fresh beauty calling on us for admiration. The descent by the road was rapid, and the picturesque assemblage of mountains, rivers, and woody vales of [20] unrivalled beauty. Of this spot, Mr. Moore says, or rather sings,

"There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet.
As that Tale in whose bosom the wide waters meet.”

In the vale of Avoca, at the termination of Mr. Parnell’s demesne, three mountain rivers unite, and pursue their rapid course to the not far distant sea. May I indulge myself by giving a favourite bard’s description of such a river

Accompanied by such a murmuring find lovely stream, we continued, from “this meeting of the Waters,” our walk through a most enchanting vale.

At the bridge of the Three Waters we had taken some refreshment in the open air, on a mossy bank, and at the side of a streamlet hurrying and fritting on its way, to be lost in the great stream. We were invigorated and pleased. Wicklow, in its utmost beauty, glowed around us. The road was level and pleasant, and there was no want of wood here, though so much and so severely felt in Ireland. The evening [21] shadows and colouring fell on every tree, and harmonized the hills and vales by Nature’s most bewitching touches. We might have imagined it a sylvian scene in Switzerland/ if we had seen happy, independent countenances, and the full plenty of the rural home. As we overtook two small farmers we joined in conversation. They complained of the dearness of land, of every thing being let over their heads, and their wish to go to America in the Spring. They spoke with feeling and propriety; one of them, a man somewhat in years, repeating, that he wished to go to America, and send for his family. I could not help remarking, that he must be pretty comfortable, and that it would be a great change: Why, then, would you emigrate? He emphatically replied, “Because I can never be better as I am. Times promise to be worse, and such farmers as we are cannot possibly stand it long. The gentry think they can never have enough land in their own hands, and what they do not keep, jobbers are ready to take and give fines for, and thus root out the old resident from the soil. Why should we then stay in this country?” I asked him of Lord Fitzwilliam as a landlord? “Pretty well, but no absentee can be a good one. They ruin Ireland. They cannot see the distress of tenants, and the deputy must always remit as much money as he can. Neither can they protect us They are too distant, [22] and too full of other things, than being resident guardians to poor Irish tenants!" I sighed heavily, and, impressed with the truth of all he said, bid him a sympathyzing [sic] farewell!

The shades of evening fell fast. We scarcely discerned the river flowing beside us, and the birds had long retired to rest. We were, however, perfectly unmolested, and without fear; and quietly pursued our route to a small inn we had heard of. The Irish, I think, rarely commit wanton atrocities on mere travellers — it is generally some private pique, or some bad character inflaming them against a neighbour, which urges them. They seldom rob, as they do in England, on speculation. We traversed the wildest parts of this country without molestation, and as we now journeyed late on our way, we had a proof of the honesty of these people. The air was serene, and moments for contemplation arose. Just then a flute breathed gentle music from the opposite bank of the river; the strain was sweet, and the mournful airs played, recalled the times that were for ever gone. The Irish are very fond of music, and many of them good performers. The flute, the fife, the pipes, the harp are much beloved by them. How strange! and what a pity that music, though practised through time immemorial, and cultivated with success by this nation, does not appear to have softened their dispositions as much as might [23] have been expected! As we approached our inn, a pretty rural mansion, with an orchard, we came near the borders of the County of Wexford. Of this enchanting Wicklow, I have given you but an imperfect idea. You must see it, my dear L., and judge for yourself. How many visit the Continent, Switzerland, and Italy, and know nothing of the interesting beauties of Ireland! How many go to see, and even live in, Wales, with equal ignorance of this romantic island! Wicklow possesses beauties and scenes equal to any in Wales. Her people, alas! are inferior in comfort, education, and agriculture, but they are brave and ingenious: so much so, indeed, that, in these respects, they (all short of no other nation.

I am truly, yours.

Ferns, June 15.

My Dear L.

Wexford, though not so romantic, is a fitter country for agriculture than Wicklow. The land is much better. Property is more equally diffused, and I think I already see the traces of English settlers, in more commodious farmhouses and barons — better enclosed farms — and better stock. The strong bonians are still marked and known in this country, land the names of Fitzhenry, Fitzmaurice, &c. &c. &c. not unusual. Our walk from Coolgranny lay through Gorey, a small market and post-town, as also through Comolin, a neat village. We saw crops of flax, corn, and barley, in a very good state. The linen-manufacture has made respectable, but not great progress in Wexford. What a melancholy effect of commercial narrowness in England, to prevail on your illustrious William to interdict the woollen manufacture in Ireland! How much reparation is due to her for that one paralysing and unjust act! As we proceed, I observe with pleasure in this county a great deal of industry and honesty. The Wexford people have gained a good deal of the English habits, and are greatly improved by them. Yesterday, [25] we observed a great concourse of them at the village of Coolgranny after chapel. It is impossible not to admire the Irish as a people, when you see them well dressed and orderly. The young women were very neat and, in general, handsome, and the young men have a military and spirited air, very striking. Their persons are extremely good, and their manners, (if fatal whiskey does not interfere), mild and engaging. I like their air of independence in Wexford, it betokens more sincerity and better exertions than the extorted and doubtful civility of the slave! Wexford, as far as we have seen, is a fine corn-country, and the farms seem pretty large and good. The cotter system is not so prevalent as in the counties of Dublin and Wicklow. As we leave the capital, things seem better, and the people to improve. As far as we have proceeded, it is evident that the population of the country is immense. It is nothing diminished by rebellion, or war. Gorey is a tolerable town in Wexford, of between 2000 and 3000. inhabitants.

All the small towns in Ireland betray a want of manufacture and employment; which consequently generates much curiosity with respect to strangers, from which even the better classes are not free. Gorey was the scene of an action in the rebellion of 1798, and of a sharp nature. Half the town was burnt and is now re-built, manifestly [26] to the great advantage of the place. From Oorey we took our way to Fertis, and stopped to take some refreshment near it at a poor cottage. They were kind and civil, but their poverty was so great as to be quite distressing to witness. This excessive misery of cottagers in Ireland cannot be too often repeated, as they represent the whole population.

There is a radical error which, till it be found out and rectified by a vigorous government, not afraid to boldly contemplate truth, will render the English government always insecure, and Ireland unhappy. I am writing, my dear L., for no party. I want not to exaggerate nor to diminish the evils which oppress this country, and far from blaming England, as is vulgarly too much done here, I think many sources of error are internal; but the powerful arm of an enlightened government can alone divert and dry them up.

As we approached Ferns, once the proud capital of Leinster, I felt various sensations. Here Lord Dermot, King of Leinster, the first ally of the English, resided; and here had been the seat of one of the most ancient of the small monarchies into which Ireland, by a most wretched policy, had been time immemorial divided! A small village — a venerable castle — and some beautiful ruins of an abbey, alone remain of a city once great and populous! Thus, how fragile [27] are the works of man, whether you. take him in the plains of Asia; the ruins and the deserts of Africa; or in this civilized Europe!

Dermot, King of Leinster, finding himself persecuted by Roderick O’Conner [sic], the nominal monarch of Ireland, (who had entered into the animosities of a petty king, his adherent) and prompted by two very powerful passions, self-preservation and revenge, fled to the King of England, Henry the Second, for protection. It was granted, and Dermot, having acquired the alliance of the Earl of Chepstow, and some other brave Welch chieftains, returned to Ireland in the end of the year 1169. He lay concealed in the monastery of Ferns, till the English, or rather Welch, force under Fitzstephens landed. The result is well known, but among other errors to which the Irish are prone on this subject, is that which leads them to overlook that, at this very period, the Danes were in possession of perhaps two-thirds of the island — certainly of all the great maritime towns and adjoining territories.

The Danes, rather than the Irish, were conquered by Dermot’s allies, and the emancipation of the island from the hands of those rapacious and cruel invaders was an act which, if it had been followed up by wise measures, and if the radical defects of Ireland had permitted them to operate, had entitled England to the lasting gratitude of this country! However, in Dermot’s conduct [28] there was nothing surprising or unusual. There had formerly been some occasional friendly intercourse between the kings of Ireland and of England, and Dermot followed a very natural impulse in seeking the aid of Henry the Second. It was a simple consequence of the perpetual feuds between the Irish kings, and it is wonderful it had not happened long before. It is quite clear that the English did not, like the Danes, come as invaders, but as allies of Dermot, and probably with the concurrence of the whole Irish clergy!

Almost every country presents similar facts. Seven hundred years before Dermot solicited assistance from England, an Irish king had nearly in the same manner, and probably for similar causes, implored the protection of the Roman general then commanding in Britain. He had been instigated by revenge, and warmly urged the Romans to conquer Ireland. The words of Tacitus are very strong and exact; “Agricola expulsum seditione domestica unum ex regulis gentis exceperat, ac specie amicitiae in occasionem retinebat. Saepe ex eo audivi legione una et modicis auxiliis debellari. obtinerique Hiberniam posse, Idque etiam adversus Britanniam profuturum si Romana ubique arma et velut e compectu libertas tolleretur.”

* “Agricola,” says he, “had received one of the petty kings expelled by domestic sedition from Ireland, and detained him under appearance of friendship, for any opportunity which might occur. I often heard from them, that Ireland could be conquered, and retained by one Roman legion and moderate supplies, and that it would be useful with respect to Britain, that the Roman arms should be every where in these parts, and liberty taken away from, as it were, before her eyes.“

[29] This is at once a proof that Dermot’s conduct was not at all singular in Ireland, and also of its deplorable state, from a bad constitution of government seven centuries before the English under Henry the Second arrived. The ease with which that nation succeeded, is another evidence of misgovernment, and the prevalence of selfish views in Ireland of every king. Any thing of public spirit and good government must have almost instantly expelled or annihilated the small Welch forces which at first assisted Dermot. Many centuries before, the Romans, and for similar causes, could have easily conquered the island. Thus, all the Irish can be said to have lost by the coming of Henry the Second of England, was a most defective constitution, which had entailed misery on its inhabitants for perhaps a thousand years, during which period, learning and the Muses had sparkled, but could not enlighten her.

Had not Dermot been persecuted by the monarch of Ireland, it had not then occurred. The Danes had continued to ravage and encroach. [30] till they had again obtained the sovereignty of the island, or some distant power had availed itself of the feuds of the Irish kings and seized on it. Dermot had carried off the King of Meath’s wife; but Roderick, sixteen years after (and long after the lady had been restored), oppressed him, and stripped him of his dominions in an ignominious manner. With such policy — so many little governments — where passion, revenge and selfishness — not public good — directed — Ireland never could have improved, nor enjoyed any share of tranquillity or prosperity.

The ruins of the castle of Ferns are still grand and imposing. They command an extensive view of the country. We were shewn in them a small apartment on the ground-floor, still very perfect, and which seems to have been a royal chapel, or some peculiar state-room. The roof is beautifully arched, and the whole of its Gothic architecture and ornaments are strikingly handsome. This ruined castle’s walls are very strong, and nothing but wilful dilapidation could have injured them so much as they are! The mode of building in ancient times in Ireland appears to have been calculated for duration, and in some manner resembles the Roman method used in Britain, by grouting them, and pouring in loose shingle and lime. This castle has suffered greatly in very recent times, by a barbarous practice of taking away parts of it for common use. In the [31] unhappy rebellion of 1798, the rebels seized it, and planted cannon on the highest tower, but did not hold it long. The ruined monastery where Dermot awaited the coming of the English, is even in its decay very beautiful. Tradition says it was built by the Spaniards.

We were happy to learn that great harmony prevailed between all parties at Ferns. Accident introduced me to the Rev. Mr. Redmond, priest of the place, who related to me a curious little anecdote. When pursuing his studies, and finishing his course of education in France, he had spent a summer in Bas Poictou, where General Bonaparte, then a thin, slight young boy, was. He had slept in the same room with him six weeks, and perceived nothing shining or engaging in him. He was generally employed in making machinery, which he placed on a small water-course. As the party were one day shooting, Bonaparte, who was not very active, fell into a brook five feet deep, which he endeavoured to leap across. He was nearly drowned, when Mr. Redmond immediately discharged his piece, and presented the end to him, by which he saved his life.

Thus, in the hands of a poor Irish priest, hung, for a moment, much of the future destinies of Europe. I asked, “Had the general ever recollected this service, and sent him any mark of his gratitude!” Mr. R. said, “No;” and added, “I [32] assure you, sir, I do not admire his principles.” Has not this enterprising officer’s fate been a singular one, my dear L., from the time of this escape from drowning? Having ventured every thing, and, to accomplish his end, scrupled at nothing, however foul and revolting to humanity — having seized on power, by iniquitous and fraudulent steps, and having attained great celebrity and great temporary dominion, he is just going to cause his own downfall, by provoking all the powers of Europe against him. Without the mind of a legislator or statesman, he has grasped what he knows not how to hold, and attempted, by mere military authority, to do what it is only the province of intellect to accomplish! A vain and ignorant undertaking! If this remarkable man draw down on himself severe punishment, from the violated laws of nations, he may yet have to regret that the good priest of Ferns saved a life which after all was one of splendid anxiety, and may terminate by years of incessant remorse!

At Ferns we found a tolerable, small inn, but were; treated with some contempt, and little civility. Pedestrians, I now plainly perceive, are not well received at inns in Ireland. The Irish are too much given to respect external splendour, and the pedestrian is liable at their inns to be considered a very suspicious character. He may be deemed a tax-gatherer, or play-actor, or runaway, or rebel; — for they are fond of stigmatizing [33] a stranger in this way. They do not understand independence of mind and character enough to respect them justly, and what they would never do themselves, they conceive impossible for others, at least with any good cause and respectable motives. Ferns was, however, extremely interesting to us, as the ancient seat of the kings of Leinster, and in particular of Dermot. Here was conceived the plan of introducing the English into Ireland, which has been of such important consequences to both.

The Welch force lauded in the county of Wexford in May, 1170. Then Dermot, who seems all along to have been pitied and protected by the clergy, issued from his hiding-place at Ferns, and boldly bid defiance to his enemies. The cruelty of Roderick, in basely putting to death in cold blood the son of the King of Leinster, (one of the most promising youths of his time), as a poor revenge against Dermot for procuring himself assistance, almost inclines one to pronounce this nominal monarch of Ireland a pusillanimous tyrant. It seems to justify all that Dermot did, and to shew that he resisted an odious despotism, weak, but malignant, and quite inimical to the real happiness of the people!

Ferns, after the event of the landing of the English allies, became a city of great consequence. Dermot was not only restored to former [34] power, but obtained much more. As the ally of England, he appeared in a new and formidable light, In his palace the most important councils were held; and it must be remarked, that this monarch, too much and very unjustly decried, proved himself faithful and honourable in all his engagements with his new allies.

In the city of Waterford were celebrated the nuptials of Strongbow, who was espoused to Eva, the king’s daughter: and in this now lonely and humble village of Perns, were once assembled the Earl of Chepstow, the King of Leinster, the gallant Fitzstephen, Hervey de Monte Marisco, Raymond le Gros, and many other illustrious and long-departed characters. The marriage of Earl Strongbow to Eva, evinces that Dermot had formed an honourable and becoming alliance, and that no ideas of brutal invasion or lawless conquest instigated the English. It is observable that the chief opposition made to them, on their arrival in Ireland, was by the Danes, in their cities. They did not willingly relinquish the hold they had so long possessed on the unhappy Irish. They defended the great maritime cities with considerable vigour, till they found resistance unavailing, and what the Irish kings and people could not do for centuries, was in a few years achieved by an English force, acting with discipline, union, and constancy. But the [35] policy pursued by Dermot King of Leinster, the power of the Danes m Ireland was for ever annihilated.

Our visit to this once renowned city of Ferns, my dear L., has drawn me into some historical disquisition, which I hope will neither prove tedious nor uninteresting to you. Many and violent prejudices exist in this country on the subject I have treated. How happy should I feel if men’s minds could be harmonized and enlarged, as to the past, in both countries! — that all here would correct false ideas, and bury unfounded resentments in oblivion; and that, on your parts, Ireland should be deemed a respectable ally and friend, not a turbulent dependant!

Believe me ever, &c.

Newtown Barry, June 16th.

My Dear L.

This morning we left Ferns. I paid a farewell visit to the Rev. Mr. Redmond, who was extremely sick and in ill-health. I shall probably never behold this good man again. He is journeying calmly to a better world. His abode bespoke very limited circumstances, but he shewed a degree of fortitude, and resignation very honourable to him, and very different, I imagine, from what his celebrated acquaintance in Bas Poictou would manifest, if adversity reach him. Mr. Redmond was supported by religion and an unclouded conscience. Those who sacrifice all for ambition, prepare for themselves an old age of exhausting inquietude, and no resource in the hours of sickness.

We found the charges at our small inn high. I observe that they exact nearly as much in a miserable one as in the best. Independent of poor fare, you are charged also as much for bad accommodation in rooms, &c. &c. as for good. The principle of exacting as much as possible, pervades great and small inns in Ireland almost universally, instead of giving the traveller fair value for his money; and if an imposition be once established, it is never retracted. [37] Add to this, that the master, and mistress, and family, are generally too proud to pay any attention to guests themselves.

We had a charming walk to Newtown Barry, a few miles distant from Ferns. The country looked poor, but tolerably cultivated. We passed through. Claghamon, a small village, and soon arrived at the Slaney, a very beautiful river which runs to Wexford, past Enniscorthy. This charming stream rolled placidly on, and we discovered a pathway along its verdant banks. The day had improved, and the cheerful rays of the sun glistened on our way. The waters of the Slaney were of the purest blue, and we reaped all the advantages of pedestrians, by finding a short and delightful road to Newtown Barry. Thus are the real goods of life distributed more equally than is too often thought. The noble may roll in his carriage, or taste the luxuries his palace every day affords; but the pure enjoyments of nature, arising from admiring her freshest beauties immediately around one, are not his. The prospect before us was every where cheerful, and we were pleased with every thing. We had left Ferns, and all our historical enquiries behind. We thought no more of kings and generals — of unhappy feuds amongst chieftains — and the long past dreams of ambition and power! The shrubs and wild flowers smelt sweet, and the song of small birds was sometimes heard. But Ireland [38] in general wants them, and is indeed too bare of hedges and trees to afford them much shelter. The want of trees in this beautiful island gives the pedestrian great and frequent pain. It makes the loneliness of his way often most melancholy. This shews that the country has undergone miserable devastation on all sides. I impute it also partly to that disregard of home, springing from various causes, which I have already remarked as distinguishing the Irish. It also, I fear, points out the deplorable uncertainty of property, which has so often unsettled the island. Venerable trees, protecting and surrounding the farm-house^, are too seldom seen in Ireland; it generally stands bleak and uncomfortable, a memorial of what the Irishman has been, and too often is — a comfortless and unprotected being in his native land.

As we advanced, we saw the beautiful little town of Newtown Baity, situated on our admired Slaney. It is small and prettily planned, and does great honour to the proprietor. Colonel Barry. Above all, it is charmingly ornamented by trees in the centre street, and a rivulet runs through it. In the evening we walked up the river to the right of Newtown Barry. The sun had set, and the scene was altogether one of the most pleasing we had seen. The fine improvements and woods of Colonel Barry, adorned the banks of the river, which glided along in silent [39] beauty. All was harmony and serenity; the birds had retired to rest; and the cattle were slowly returning home. Oh, my dear L., who would exchange such scenes for the gaudy but unreal joys of fashionable life, or the various pursuits of insatiable avarice! We had a quiet lodging and kind usage in. a small private house at the skirts of Newtown Barry, and retired to repose, greatly . pleased with what we had seen.

In the morning a fair enlivened the town; woollens, crockery-ware, and cattle, were the chief objects of sale. The Irish language is spoken almost generally in the county of Wexford; we heard it every where in the fair. Is it not surprising, that in the very part where the English first settled, this language should to this hour remain and flourish? It marks ho great cruelty in these first settlers or their descendants; and it is evident there was no extirpation practised. Yet are not these English frequently painted as unrelenting destroyers of all that Ireland held dear? Too often, and too long, have they been considered so here for the peace and improvement of . the country. But let an impartial mind turn to the bloody scenes enacted by Pizarro, and a cortes in New Spain, and it will acknowledge that the allies, who were introduced by Dermot, King of Leinster, acted on far different principles, and intended, if the turbulent passions of the day had permitted, a friendly incorporation with a [40] people, their natural friends and allies, and not the bloody and unfeeling devastation of those enemies to mankind called conquerors!

The same religion also remains in Wexford as in the time of Henry II., which had been implanted id this island by its venerable and virtuous Apostle, Patrick, and which, in such a part of it, manifests at once the great consistency and firmness of the Irish in this point, and also a tacit degree of toleration in England, even after her own change in that respect, and notwithstanding the unwise laws, and severe persecution set forward by ministers and parties in England, certainly not well consulting the public good and happiness of the empire.

We were happy to find much religious harmony in this county, where, some years ago, greatly the reverse had been thought to exist. Both parties may be ashamed of their temporary violence and errors, and may have discovered that malignant discord is not religion, and that as the two leading churches in the empire, which a fra* temal spirit ought to unite, are sincerely attached to monarchy, their best policy is to defeat the views of any future fanatic sects, by wise and manly concord.

Leaving Newtown Barry, we took the route to New Ross; we saw on our way, with much pleasure, great improvement in agriculture. The land was, however, poor, but let at from a guinea [41] to thirty shilling the acre. Flax is a good deal, but not sufficiently introduced, and seldom more than a quarter of an acre in a farm is cultivated. There is, nevertheless, a little every where. We learnt that the Farming Society had done much good, and greatly advanced agriculture in this county. Tithes have been a subject of complaint for a long series of years in Ireland. On this subject, which you have studied successfully, I might well refer to you, my dear L., for instruction, but as I am distant from you, I shall hazard some ideas, and cheerfully submit them to the correction of your better judgment The circumstance of the great body of the nation professing a religion different from that of the pastors to whom they are payable, has caused them to have an invidious appearance. Much declamation has been uttered against them, and Protestant ministers have consequently been placed in a painful and even dangerous situation, which that excellent and respectable body ill deserve. Tithes are but a portion of rent deducted from the landlord, since their establishment, and paid to the clergy of the established church in this empire. Remove them, and the landlord instantly raises the rent; that is, claims the portion now paid the clergyman. The wretched tenant’s situation is deteriorated, not improved: for the minister never, or rarely, receives the full proportion of his claim. [42] I should propose that a law be enacted to require every incumbent to grant leases of twenty-one years of his tithes at a just value, which should hold good notwithstanding any change of the minister; and it would be desirable that he resided, and received it, himself — the delegation of receiving his tithes to a species of oppressor too well known in Ireland — the tithe-proctor — has occasioned much misery, and half the outcry raised against tithes. The Protestant clergymen, of all men, should not act the absentee, or leave too much to inferior agents — the collection of his income.

There is unfortunately, in Ireland, too great a love of power, rather than of honest independence. Every inferior agent, when clothed with any degree of it, too soon shews a disposition to oppress his countrymen. The tithe-proctor, or some farmer, often contracts with the minister for his tithes; — a most pernicious custom! He becomes a scourge to the afflicted, and a terror to the weak. He goes out armed with law; and perverted and made callous by a little brief authority. He takes notes payable at a certain time, and the victim is already bound in his hands. At the appointed day, if he does not, or cannot pay, he proceeds against him; add to this, the payment of a rack-rent; of county cesses, often little beneficial to cottagers, or farmers; [43] and the contribution his feelings and duty require him to give his own pastor; and we cannot wonder if this victim be maddened, and commit improper and criminal acts. This is also a scene of torture, varying in degree as the crop looks well or ill, and as human industry, aided by Heaven, has been successful or not. Thus commotions spring up; and have for a long time sprung up. Government, gentry, and clergy, are harassed, and the petty and malignant despot, who has occasioned so much of this confusion, concludes by stigmatizing his victims as rebels, and denouncing them as ready to receive the foreign foe! A lease granted for twenty-one years, which could not be broken, and the sum stipulated paid to the rector himself, would, I think, rectify all this, and extirpate in Ireland a truly venomous race among her own sons, who disregard their countrymen and neighbours’ happiness, and distract the whole country round them.

Sincerely respecting the Protestant clergy of Ireland, I have often grieved that they should be unjustly blamed, or exposed to odium or danger! Nor is it to be wished that they should, by any commutation of tithes, become the mere pensioners of government. The bond which joins them to the people, and which, in my opinion, may be made a pleasing one to both parties, would be dissolved. The Protestant clergy would become more and more absentees, where [44] they had few or no flocks, and would cease to have any interest in the soil around them. Their independence would vanish, and the power of great men would become more and more uncontroled [sic]. It is not patriotism to exclaim against and discountenance tithes in Ireland.

I venture to think, my dear L., that I have demonstrated where he real evil lies, and that an Act of Parliament, such as I have alluded to, would do more to relieve, and consequently tranquillize Ireland, than an army of police-men, or all the bands of orators who have spoken against them or called for a commutation, would do in centuries.

Uncertainty is that which most of all is afflicting to landed property, of great or small denomination. The tenant at will never improves his land much. He knows not the rent of next year. Give him a good lease, that is, security that he shall enjoy the fruits of his labour, industry, and ingenuity, he grows contented, and gets independent.

Tithes are a varying exaction of an uncertain annual rent in the hands of the scorpions I have described. Change their character; fix their value for a proper time; put an end to their variations; and the Irishman will repose in his cottage, will grow attached to the minister, his second and benevolent landlord, and no longer his fluctuating oppressor, by the cruel hands of [45] some greedy and cunning neighbour. Assassinations, those frightful crimes in civilized society, will be less heard of, and his majesty’s government itself in Ireland may rest with more ease.

Our way to New Ross was, on the whole, uninteresting, so that, perhaps, you will more readily pardon my digression on tithes. Here and there, however, symptoms of improvement pleased We saw a small wet spot of ground broken up with great industry, for the first time, perhaps for centuries, and preparing for paring and burning. They meant to put cabbage-seed in it. A nursery for fruit and other trees, very nourishing, and which sold a great deal, was also a grateful sight. Orchards are forming through this county, and many happy results from these beginnings may be hoped.

We found many weavers spread through the cottages, and the ever-cheerful sound of the shuttle often enlivened the way. The farmers manure with lime in considerable quantities. The people, as we passed along, were civil and respectable, but very curious. We observed schools at all the chapels as we walked along, and education attended too very generally. The youths of Ireland are not to be deemed ignorant, but they too much lose, as men, all they have acquired in their earlier days! Many causes concur to produce this. The cares of a miserable life too soon seize on the adolescent youth. He is [46] oppressed and barbarised by his wretchedness. The learning he has gained is soon obliterated, and his understanding no longer cultivated, at the time it grows capable of reflection and reason. His own levity and presumption but too much contribute to this return to ignorance. He cannot get English books to read, and too often forgets how to do so, if he had them. Books in Irish are not to be had; — a want, in my opinion, much to be deplored: I would cultivate the human mind by every mode. The best authors — the noble ancient poets, drest in their own interesting and expressive native language, would be greedily read by the Irish who had received any education. For their sensibility, quickness, and comprehension of intellect, are truly admirable! Never, in any spot, could be more justly pronounced the poet’s lines! —

“Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom’d caves of ocean bear.
And many a flower is born to blush unseen
And waste its sweetness in the desert air.”

Have you not often dwelt, my dear L., on this faithful, though beautifully melancholy picture of a great portion of human creatures, which Gray, by the magic of four sweet lines exhibits to the mind’s eye? Partaking of the poet’s fire yourself, they must have claimed the attention of your feeling mind in no ordinary degree. Ah! [47] will you not then second my feeble efforts in holding up this picture fo your countrymen, which 1 have applied to Ireland? Would that you could penetrate and be admitted to the cabinet of the minister, and say, “Let not the gem be longer buried in the ocean! the flower blush unseen, or waste its sweetness on the air. Your mind is benevolent and just. Repair the wrongs these people have suffered under a bad system! Dare to be liberal and wise; — the terms are synonimous [sic]. Give this unhappy race the righl, of men, many gems will sparkle, many flowers bloom, and your name go down crowned with lustre to distant posterity.“

We arrived, at the end of this day’s walk, at a large commodious farm-house, fitted up as a country inn, and propose reaching New Ross tomorrow. The appearance of this house, and some others we had noticed, (far above that of the common Irish farmer’s abode), gave the idea immediately, that we observed pleasing trees, of English respectability and comfort impressed here. We heard now, very commonly. Strongbonians spoken of, and began to consider these parts more interesting as we proceeded towards the spot where Fitzstephens first landed. It is historic ground, and 1 shall hope you will traverse it with me in idea, and find pleasure from farther observation and research! We are now glad to partake of a homely meal in an old [48] fashioned, but clean room. I shall also be glad to repose, and heartily bid you at present farewell. Believe me, &c. &c.

New Ross June 17.

My Dear L.

We started this morning with great alacrity for this town, one of the principal in the county. The walk did not afford much beauty of prospect, or any thing curious. We rested half-way at a small cottage on the road-side, and I shall relate to you the story of its inmates, convinced that you never have disdained, “the short and simple annals of the poor.” As we entered this humble abode, we saw it to be destitute of furniture and comfort. A respectable young woman, with two fine children, sat at the fire-side. She received us with a melancholy but hospitable welcome, and soon procured us potatoes, for which we gave her money, at a neighbouring house: such was her poverty. After sharing our humble repast at her fire-side, we asked what caused her to live thus solitary, and in so much wretchedness! “My husband,” she mournfully replied, “a few years ago had, a good farm. I was a neighbouring farmer’s daughter. We [49] married and were happy, and even rich for people in our way. Two years before our lease expired, our land was privately taken over our heads. When it expired, we suddenly found ourselves cast out on the world! Our stock and means were soon wasted away. My husband, finding himself reduced to be a miserable labourer and cotter, on the land which was lately his own, and had been long his family’s, could not bear to remain in this country. He resolved to go to Newfoundland, to the fisheries, and to return in two or three years with what he could make. I could not blame him. I went with him to New Ross, and saw him sail from it. Here I came back — in this cabin, as you see it, I must live. My father gives me a little assistance, but cannot do much. My husband may never more return, and then, said she, looking at her children, I may yet wander on the roads for charity. God only can help me; but it was hard to lose our land.” — Ex una disce omnea. I suppose hundreds of similar cases exist in every county in Ireland.

In my third letter, I dwelt on the miseries attendant on too great a competition for land. It is dreadful, when it is made a commodity to be thus sold. It can never be as a moveable and perishable one, but has something of a sacred and solid nature.

The landlord is rather the guardian and trustee, than the avaricious merchant — or should be [50] so. His territory contains numerous families who cultivate it and pay him yearly rent. They are attached to their farms by every tie. Beautifully and truly has Mr. Wordsworth described their feelings in the passage I quoted in my letter on Agriculture. Shall they all be disregarded? Would not the loss of his mansion and demesne throw a dark colour over the life of a landlord. Yet how repeatedly must the christian precept, “do as you would be done by" be violated by them, when they act as in the case of our poor hostess and her husband! Never shall I forget witnessing a scene of sorrow at an old farmhouse belonging to one of my relatives, some years ago, on a somewhat similar occasion.

He had determined to remove a tenant and his family, notwithstanding all their entreaties. Though he offered another distant and inferior farm, nothing could console them. An old man, of about seventy, his wife, sons, and daughters, were in tears, in the dwelling-house —others wandering in their garden and fields. Au old forth, and its thorn-bushes, were particular objects of their affections. Nature spoke powerfully in their looks. They pleaded — remonstrated — but in vain! They lost their abode, and with it, apparently, all happiness.

From these outrages to the feelings, customs, and habits of man, may easily be deduced, as I have said, my dear L., many of the most [51] atrocious deeds in Ireland. House-burning, and murders are frequently resorted to, as the desperate mode of stopping the system, or of gratifying the revenge of families who have become outcasts and beggars near their paternal soil. No severe acts of parliament, nor extraordinary zeal of law-officers, can remedy a disorder which originates from a primary violation of the laws of nature and of God. How seldom does the legislator or the lawyer look to the source of a malady in the state! A liberal and energetic system in Ireland would take away the cruel, I had almost said barbarous, use of Draconic laws. Of this, my dear L., let your countrymen be persuaded, that as such laws always have failed, so they always will, in tranquillizing Ireland. They are clumsy substitutes for intellectual operations: minute, indeed, and imperceptible, but all-powerful in harmonizing and regulating society. Unfortunately, statesmen are too often the slaves of party; they cannot think or act with freedom; they fulfil their duties half, and are satisfied, if they have done something. Great materials often lie before them for the exercise of genius, but they dare not meddle with them. No building is erected for the admiration of posterity; thus mankind dwindle unredressed into their graves!

We arrived pretty early in New Ross. It is a very ancient and respectable town, of from four [52] to five thousand inhabitants. The houses are, in general, good; the streets decent; and something of a foreign and antique air pervades the whole. This town, about three hundred years ago, had much trade and intercourse with Spain; with Bilboa in particular. The Nore and Barrow unite a few miles above it, and form one very fine navigable river, which flows majestically past the quays of Ross, and affords great accommodation for trade. The environs of this town are beautiful, and the bank, hanging over the river to the right side, is grand and romantic. Though trees are wanting to augment the scenery, few places afford more pleasing walks around it. The market here is very good and plentiful. The country people come in great numbers to it, and are in general well-dressed and respectable, speak Irish, and are almost universally Catholics. The population of the surrounding country appears overflowing. There is a fine ruin of an abbey at Ross, but the modernized church, incorporated with it, destroys the effect. I think it bad taste to do this, and the practice is very destructive to interesting monuments of antiquity. Let what is modern and elegant be so; but let antiquity, with her ivyed [sic] walls, her monuments, and all her mouldering relics of past times, stand untouched, that the traveller may read, unmolested, her venerable volume, and rising generations be able to study the history of past times in these memorials they [53] have left. There is here also a large and new chapel, but scarcely sufficient for the great numbers which throng to it.

New Ross is a corporate town, and is governed by a sovereign and burgesses. These corporations were part of a system to plant Ireland entirely with English settlers, which has failed. They now form a strange anomaly in the state, and serve little purpose, but to create great heart-burnings, and to damp trade and manufactures in towns. It is obvious, that ideas and plans of two centuries ago do not suit the present day; and that these little municipal monopolies but add to the wretchedness of the country. Some concessions have been made, it is true, as to giving the citizens of corporate towns, of all descriptions, a fair chance of enjoying city privileges and honours; but the doors are held by hands unwilling to open them, and few of the proscribed body can squeeze in.

There is little or no trade of an export nature now at Ross, and the place seems to have suffered from the war. The inhabitants are very respectable, and live together in harmony. The proportion of Catholics here, is estimated at about eight to one. This may be taken as the average of the whole county, and not less, I believe, of Wicklow. Time, you see, my dear L., has swept away, in his vast tide, millions of human beings since the arrival of the English in this neighbourhood, [54] and yet they have made little impression on the language, religion, or mind of the country. Princes, lord-deputies, and armies, have laboured to change them, but fruitlessly. The vital stock, as if vivifying more the more it was pruned and lopped, now shoots forth its vast foliage over the land; and all the short-sighted schemes of the busy ministers of the day have ended in disappointment. What a lesson to man on pride and ambition! What a rich subject for contemplation, and for the historical student seeking truth, does this astonishing island afford! The method adopted for making it a valuable and contented member of a great empire, in whose bosom were the seeds of vast glory and an imperishable name, was wrong; persecution was used against a spirited, valiant, and feeling people. Some deputies sought fortune; others military credit; — but each had his temporary plan, and too often a narrow and bad one! The mighty surges of a nation’s suffering roared round them to no purpose. Prejudice, or mercenary views, shut their ears, and steeled their hearts. They took every account from their creatures; from men prejudiced, or wishing to deceive them. In England the truth was never known. Her ordinary and prescribed channel for information seldom or ever conveyed it. Deputies would not censure their own plans, or ministers readily attach blame to men employed and instructed by [55] themselves. No wise method has adopted to take the people out of the hands of those petty kings, who had so long before the English name was heard of, tyrannized over, and barbarized their miserable vassals. The impolitic and unjust distinction of English and Irish was kept up, in an odious and painful manner. The statutes of Kilkenny, in the Duke of Clarence’s time, treat the Irish as proscribed savages. The scheme of plantations, which has been entertained by every monarch and minister down to Charles II denotes the most crude and wretched policy. A nation brave and military, as the Irish naturally are — hardy and intellectual — not like the feeble Asiatics, or brutalized Africans, can never be persecuted into submission. They may be exterminated (though that has been seen to be difficult), but cannot be made slaves, by all the efforts of power or art. Religion, language, manners, a common country — common suffering — keep them blended and united. They bleed, but are not exhausted. From necessity they become artful and insincere. The original settlers from the mother-country, from long residence, become incorporated with them, and increase their strength. The greatness of the population in so small a space as Ireland, gives it an extraordinary energy, which, polypus like, seems uninjured by partial cutting, and defies all attempts to chain and enervate it. The first [56] English, and their successors, were doubtless brave, generous, and humane; but having fallen into a bad system, they became unwilling, unable, or ashamed to alter it. It is well known that neither kings nor ministers like advice. They weakly construe it into reprimand or assumed superiority of mind, and repel those who could assist them best — that is, honest men telling plain truth, according to the dictates of enlightened minds.

It is perfectly awful and astonishing to read the History of Ireland, and observe the continued series of error and crime which have been pursued by various ministers, in distant times, towards that island. It is singular that we can find in history also, a case, and of great antiquity, where conduct directly the reverse made a nation happy, and their allies beloved friends. Rollo, Duke of Normandy, was an adventurer, but he was truly a great man. He acquired Normandy, and transmitted it to his posterity; but may be said to have conquered it by his goodness and wisdom (the only true conquest), rather than by arms. He did not suppress the language of the country — law and other proceedings were allowed to be carried on in it:— he established a superior court of justice, where he presided himself: -he reclaimed the fierceness of his followers, and made them live as friends with the natives: — above all, he broke down the feudal system of petty chieftains, and relieved [57] the commonalty from their despots - he conciliated and respected the clergy of the country — the Neostrians and Normans were intermingled by marriages, and good distribution of landed property — the laws he found in Normandy he continued and improved, as suiting the people, and long established — he contented himself with reforming, extending, and keeping in force the institutions of the country. His name became respected — his lenity and generosity extolled, and he grew the adoration of his new subjects. Normandy was soon one of the most flourishing states in all Europe. This excellent prince reigned thirty years, in happiness and peace, and died in 917. His name is yet appealed to in some old law proceedings in France, I believe, under the form called “Clameur d'Aro,” and is still obeyed and reverenced! What an example did not this great and good man set to his successors of the Norman line, who sat on the English throne!

Having objects vividly presented before me in this peculiar part of Ireland, I feel proportionally. It is even necessary to present them to ministers and princes, that other centuries may not slip away, and new wars, foreign or domestic, arise before this example of Rollo may be in some measure followed. Ireland has suffered too long from petty internal despotism, and from external [58] violence. Constant invasions, from time immemorial, I thinks and the internal feuds springing from the worst of all governments — her oligarchy of kings have caused a great part of this misery — indeed, an awfully great one. I have not scrupled to mention the system pursued in succeeding days by English ministers, as also causing much wretchedness. May a happier futurity bless both countries, and these sorrows be forgotten in mutual peace!

I am, my dear L., truly, &c.