Whoever sees the river Liffey, such as it is running through Dublin, must smile at the recollection of Tickel's poem, beginning
since nothing can be more black, dirty, and in every way the reverse of limpid, than is the complexion of these waters as they traverse the metropolis. Instead of being an ornament to the town, as a river ought to be, it is really rather a revolting sight. From what cause this may proceed I know not; but it should seem that it must be from very great mismanagement of some kind. Are no pains ever bestowed in cleaning it? or do the sewers of the town run into, and thus contaminate it? I know not whether either of these causes may have any share in the evil, but I know that the magistrates of the town would do well to exert their influence in having the cause thoroughly investigated, and proper remedies applied. It is generally expected that a tide river should be sweet and pure; that the constant ebb and flow should keep it free from impurities: — at any rate it should seem as if the cause might with ease be ascertained, and the effect remedied.
- Of Leinster fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace;
Nor e'er did Liffey's limpid stream
Reflect a fairer face; —
When the spot on which Dublin stands was first inhabited, and for a long series of years after, the river seems to have spread into a much wider channel, and the ground on each side was altogether marshy and swampy. It may,
The name of this river has been curiously perverted: its original appellation was the Auin Louiffa, that is, in the Irish tongue, the rapid river. It was so called because, having its source in mountainous regions, the waters will sometimes, on occasion of heavy rains, come down with the rapidity of a mountain torrent. The Anna Liffey is the name by which it is now designated in public documents, though in common conversation the former part of the name is usually dropped, and it is called simply the Liffey. Sir John Carr, in his Stranger in Ireland, makes a very odd confusion about the course of this river, since he places its source only four or five miles to the west of Dublin, yet says that it meanders beautifully through the whole county of Kildare. The fact is, that it has its source among the Wicklow mountains, near a celebrated spot which will be noticed in its proper place, Loch Hela, that is, the lake of Hela; or, as by corruption it is now usually pronounced, Luggelaw. From thence it pursues a very winding course before it reaches Dublin; and in two spots, as will be mentioned hereafter, pours down rocks, forming fine cascades. It is only navigable up to the first bridge in Dublin; and at a very short distance beyond the town it becomes quite a small shallow stream, and really limpid.
It is crossed in the town by several bridges, three of which are very handsome. The first, (that is the nearest to the mouth of the river,) Carlisle-bridge, has only been built between twenty and thirty years: it forms the communication between two of the widest and best streets in Dublin, Sackville-street to the north, and Westmoreland-street to the south. It is two feet broader between the balustrades than Westminster-bridge, but is very far short of it in length. Essex-bridge, the next, has been built somewhat more than half a century: it is the perfect model in miniature of Westminster-bridge. The other bridges, to the last, quite at the western extremity of the town, are not of any note. The last was begun in the year 1791 , while the Earl of Westmoreland was Lord-lieutenant; and the first stone being laid by his countess, it was called after her Sarah-bridge. It is also called the Rialto of Dublin, since it consists, like that at Venice, of only one elliptical arch. The whole length of the bridge is 256 feet; the span of the arch is 104 feet; the breadth thirty-eight, and the key-stone is twenty-two feet above high-water. It is indeed a beautiful piece of architecture. A new bridge is planned directly opposite the Four-Courts, to be called (after the duke of Richmond) Richmond-bridge: but this is not yet begun; and indeed there seems no great object to be attained in making a more immediate communication with a part of the town occupied only by the poorer class of the community, since there is no probability of much intercourse ever being carried on between them and the highest courts of law.
Both to the north and to the south such vast additions have of late years been made to the city, that they may almost be called new towns. The largest square in Dublin has the appellation of Stephen's Green. It is somewhat singular, that among the Irish, of whom three-fourths may probably, upon a moderate computation, be considered as adhering to the Catholic persuasion, — a religion abounding so much with saints, that not only does it furnish one for every day in the year, but, if any thing occasions one to be degraded from his station in the calendar, there is always another ready to supply his place, — it is rather extraordinary, that, among a people adhering so much to a religion thus abounding with saints, when the names of these saints are applied to a street or a square, they are deprived of their sanctity. Thus instead of Saint Stephen's Green, as might be expected, this square is simply called Stephen's-green: and we hear of Patrick's street, Mary's street, George's street, &c.
The area of Stephen's-green is larger than that of any square in London: it is really a square, and is considered as a quarter of an English mile every way. On my first arrival in Dublin, the centre was a green enclosed round with a live hedge, without which was a ditch; and between that and the road round the square was a row of very fine elms. This was in July 1814. The twelfth of August, the centenary of the Hanover accession to the British throne, was to be celebrated with great rejoicings, one part of which was a display of fire-works on Stephen's-green. Having been absent from Dublin upon a visit into the country, from the sixth to the tenth, at my return I observed a most lamentable and sacrilegious havoc which had been made among these trees; they had been stripped almost naked to the trunks, that the fireworks might be the better seen from the houses. To the credit of some of the inhabitants of the square it must be said, that there were persons who highly disapproved of the sacrilege, and remonstrated against it: but the order came from authority, and disobedience was not to be thought of.
The following year, when I revisited Dublin, not a tree was left standing. A plan was then almost completed for the improvement and embellishment of the square; the first part of which was to deprive it of its greatest embellishment, these fine trees. I could almost call this an Irish way of embellishing. Thus much, however, must be confessed, that, such as they had been made in honour of the former twelfth of August, they had almost ceased to be ornamental. For the rest, the square was certainly exceedingly improved; the hedge was removed, and the ditch filled up; while instead of them the green was to be inclosed with a handsome iron pallisade, and to be laid out with walks and shrubberies after the manner of the squares in London: — still I must think that the trees, such as they were when I first saw them, would have given great additional beauty to the whole. There are many very good houses in this square. On the north side, at the corner of Kildare-street, is Shelburne-house, now a scene of ruins. In its prosperity it was a venerable pile of building; but as an excellent preparatory step to its utter desolation, it had been for some years converted into barracks. Near the Green, in Dawson-street, is the Mansion-house, the residence of the Lord-mayor. The house itself would scarcely attract
Leinster-house was, as the name imports, the town-residence of the Duke of Leinster, now the only duke in Ireland. Is it not rather a reflection upon the first nobleman of the country, the only one of so high a rank, that he should alienate the town-residence of his ancestors, transferring to another country the advantages that accrue to tradespeople, mechanics, and others, from having a large fortune spent among them — True, the duke keeps up an establishment at his country-residence in the county of Kildare — But ought not a person of his high distinction to consider it almost as a duty to let the metropolis also be benefited by a part of his fortune being spent there? The front of Leinster-house is in Kildare-street; it is a fine building within a court, which is entered by a very handsome gateway. I have mentioned elsewhere that the premises were purchased by the Dublin Society, where their establishment will undoubtedly be carried on upon a very splendid scale.
Not far from either of the above-mentioned squares, a new one is begun called Fitzwilliam-square; the ground laid out for it is not large, and but a small part is as yet built. These are all on the south side of the river. In
College Green, though not properly a square, is a handsome area, and comprises within it two of the finest buildings in the city, the College and the Bank. In the middle is an equestrian statue in brass of King William the Third, which was erected by the citizens in memorial of their deliverance from the tyranny of James the Second. It stands upon a marble pedestal, on which is the following inscription:
Gulielmo Tertio,
Magnae Brittanniae, Franciae et Hiberniae
Regi,
Ob Religionem Conservatam,
Restitutas Leges,
Libertatem Assertam,
Cives Dublinienses hanc Statuam posuere.
It was finished in the year 1701; and on the first of July that year, the anniversary of the victory at the Boyne, a commemoration of that event was celebrated with great rejoicings round the statue. Ever since, till within a few years, the first of July and the fourth of November (King William's birthday) were always in like manner celebrated; but latterly, as the memory of that illustrious monarch has grown somewhat out of fashion, less zeal has been shown in doing honour to it. The statue is, however, as I understood, on these days still dressed in an orange mantle, and decorated with orange ribbands, at the expense of the Corporation; but not with love and from the heart as formerly. Different times, different manners.
From this Green runs Westmoreland-street down to Carlisle-bridge, over which is Sackville-street. This is the most spacious street in Dublin, and is a hundred-and-twenty feet wide. I believe there are none wider in London, not even Portland-place: but I judge only by my own eye, for I do not know the width of the latter. Be this as it may, I can safely venture to say that Portland-place in London, Sackville-street in Dublin, and the Canebiere at Marseilles, are the three widest streets I have any where seen, and I should think all nearly of an equal width. A mall formerly ran down the middle of Sackville-street, which within a few years has been removed, and the whole laid open. About the centre stands a lofty fluted column, rising from a square pedestal,
It was walking down Sackville-street one day with some friends, that we saw a great crowd coming over Carlisle-bridge: we stopped to inquire at a shop what was the occasion of it, when we were informed that it was the funeral of a Catholic priest, going out of town to the place of interment about four miles off: the master of the shop added very civilly, that we might perhaps be incommoded by the crowd if we attempted to proceed on our way, and if we would walk up into his drawing-room we should have a better view of the procession. This obliging offer we thankfully accepted, and indeed it would scarcely have been possible to have crossed the bridge till the crowd was gone by. An immense concourse of people walking two-and-two, wearing white linen scarfs and hatbands, preceded and followed the hearse; after them came a long train of carriages, coaches, and chariots, and last of all an almost equally long train of jaunting-cars and jingles. The priest was a man extremely beloved among his flock, and they had united to do honour to his memory by making this splendid funeral. The persons walking and riding in the procession could scarcely be less than five hundred, and a vast concourse of people besides kept company with them.
It has been mentioned that the philanthropic Mr. Prior, for the promotion of the linen manufactory, procured a regulation that no other material but Irish linen should be used for scarfs and hatbands at funerals; and among the undertakers it is a regulation that each scarf and hatband shall contain linen sufficient to make a shirt and a cravat; so that the quantity used on this occasion must have been far from inconsiderable. Not that the whole company attending
Having again mentioned jaunting-cars and jingles, I must no longer omit to say a few words upon these carriages. They were for a long time peculiar to Ireland, though the jaunting-cars are now much introduced into England, particularly the inside ones; for it must be observed there are two species of these cars. Both kinds are two-wheeled open carriages drawn by one horse. The inside cars hold four, or sometimes six are crammed in, sitting sideways, and the driver has a seat in front. The outside cars have a space down the middle for holding packages of any kind, at the extremity of which is a sort of little dickey for the driver, and on each side is a seat for the company, who thus sit back to back with their feet at the outside of the carriage; the wheels are underneath the seats. These vehicles, from the position in which the company sit with regard to each other, are called by the saucy English, Irish vis-à-vis's. Many persons object to them on account of alleged danger of the feet being hurt by other carriages as they pass: for my own part I have travelled many and many a mile in one, and never could find the force of this objection. When first we landed, my friend Mr. C ..., who was with me, turned up his nose, — if I may be allowed the use of so familiar a phrase, but I know of no other equally expressive for such an occasion, — he turned up his nose, and said, I am sure you shall never catch me in such a heathenish kind of vehicle. — But again I say, When we are at Rome, we must do as they do at Rome. — We had not been a week at Dublin before he mounted one with as much complacency as if he had been trained to it all his life.
A jingle is a four-wheeled carriage, with one horse and a body like a sociable, to which is affixed in front a little seat for the driver; — not, however, calculated to hold one of the dimensions of Daniel Lambert: I have seen some so diminutive that I wondered how any driver could contrive to rest upon it at all. These carriages are not in general particularly well hung, so that in going they make a clattering kind of noise, to which they owe their name.