When I came over to Ireland my intention was to have directed my course to the South as soon as possible after my return from the North. Subsequent circumstances made me abandon the idea of visiting the south this year, leaving to the casualties which might arise in future, whether it ever would be visited at all; and I determined now to confine my researches to such parts of the county of Wicklow as I could comprehend within four days, and then depart for England.
Contrary to my expectation when I quitted Dublin, I found Mr. Kean still there at my return, and that his benefit was to take place on the very day of my arrival. I mention this circumstance to introduce an anecdote which strongly marks the Irish character. Of course it was presumed by every body, considering how much he had been a favourite with the public, that his benefit would be complimented with an overflowing house. Great applications were made at the boxkeeper's office for places; but the reply given to most people was, that Mr. Kean kept the letting of the boxes in his own hands, that he might oblige his particular friends. This was so far from being the truth, that when Mr. Kean applied himself for a box to oblige a particular friend, he was answered that they were all let. What the boxkeeper's aim could be in making these contradictory answers is not easy to be guessed, unless, by enhancing the difficulty of getting places, to entice people into giving him a bribe to endeavour to accommodate them. The consequence, however, was extremely injurious to Mr. Kean; the public at large were exceedingly offended
On the third of September I set out early in the morning on my circuit about the county of Wicklow. I directed my course along the southern shore of Dublin Bay, hitherto known to me no further than Blackrock, having much in view by taking this coast road to Bray, to see a curiosity concerning which doubts are entertained whether the thing is natural or artificial. This is one of those stones known by the appellation of rocking-stones, a vast mass so poised upon a slender basement as visibly to vibrate with the wind, yet never to fall. Of these stones there are only a few to be seen, scattered in different parts of the country; they are considered by some as remains of Druidical superstition, by others they are believed natural productions. To my great disappointment, I learnt when I arrived at the spot, and inquired for the rocking-stone, that it had been blown up some time before in quarrying stone near it. How much is it to be regretted that the men of taste and science in every country, and such are not rare in Ireland, do not make themselves the guardians of all curiosities in their neighbourhood, whether natural or artificial, and prevent their falling in such a manner by the untutored hands of ignorance! I afterwards learnt that there is a cromlech in a glen near this place, and some remains of a Druidical temple, but it was not till too late to see them. Such remains of this superstition being in the neighbourhood gives reason to suppose that the rocking-stone was also a Druidical work. Nothing tormented me more in Ireland than the
The town of Bullock stands in a most wild country, scarcely producing any thing but the granite-stone used in these parts for such a variety of purposes. In some places there is a little soil and herbage, but the prominent feature every where is stone, and again stone. This is the whole character of the country in going over the heights that form the entrance of Dublin bay to the south. In arriving at their summits, a fine view opens over the beautiful little Bay of Killeny and the fertile country towards Bray. I stopped to breakfast with the hospitable family at Ravenswell, and bid them that disagreeable word Adieu. Here I met Mr. Cuthbert returned from his circuit, and received from him a great deal of information respecting the country, which enabled me to make the most of the short time I could allot to my excursion. I went on that night to Newrath-Bridge, (Newry-Bridge as it is pronounced), about two miles from Wicklow, near which is Rosanna, once the habitation of Mrs. Henry Tighe, not less celebrated for her beauty than for her poem of Psyche. This poem certainly proves that much elegance of mind was combined in this lady with elegance of person: it is not free, however, from a fault, but too common among poets, that in parts it is very obscure. It seems indeed almost an idea with some who enlist under the banners of the Muses, that they are not poetical unless obscure; in my own opinion, be the subject what it may, or whatever may be the diction in which it is clothed, to be clear ought to be the first thing studied, let ornament follow, to whatever extent the taste of the author may lead; yet surely he shows the best taste who restrains himself from a lavish use of it; and perhaps the great fault of modern poets is the hunting too much after it. Psyche is however without doubt a work of great merit. There is nothing very striking either in the house (I mean only as to the exterior, for I did not go into it) or
The next morning it was my intention to go in the first place to Cronroe, the seat of Mr. Eccles, two miles from Newrath-Bridge, where is a very remarkable rock: but unfortunately taking a wrong turn soon after we left the inn, we got quite astray from it, and were not aware of the mistake till the time spent to repair it would have cut too deep into the day, and I was forced to abandon it entirely. I proceeded therefore to the Devil's Glen, the next allotted object of the day. Of the numerous beautiful glens with which the county of Wicklow abounds, this is by far the most so. I thought the Dargle beautiful, I thought the Glen of the Downs beautiful,I thought the Hermitage beautiful, but I found them all thrown into complete eclipse by this paradise of the Prince of Darkness: — how his name ever came to be associated with such a spot is wholly incomprehensible. In what the superior beauty of this dell over all the others enumerated consists, it is difficult to give an idea by describing it: no more can be said, than that it is a dell winding among vast rocks well clothed with wood, with a stream in the bottom tumbling over broken masses of rock, forming a number of petty cascades, till at the end of the dell is a fine cascade pouring down from the heights above perhaps a hundred and fifty feet. Yet such a description can give but a very imperfect idea of the beauty of the spot; — perhaps it may be the forms of the rocks, perhaps the greater breadth and more broken nature of the stream; I know not what it is; — the Devil's Glen is but a wooded dell, and the others are of the same nature, yet there is a charm in this far beyond them all. I was almost tempted, as I wandered through the enchanting scene, to perpetrate some evil deed which would render me fit society only for the gentleman after whom it is named, that I might come and take up my abode there. Towards the upper end of it we came to a cottage, where we stopped to inquire our way to the place at which the car had been directed to meet us. As no carriage can go through the glen, that had been sent by a circuit to the heights that rise above it on the road to Glendaloch, there to wait for us. A woman from the cottage said the way was not easy to find, and as we might very likely miss it, she offered to accompany us. In our walk falling into conversation
Under the convoy of this good woman we rejoined our car, and proceeded through what may fairly be called an ocean of mountains, to Glendaloch, that is, the Valley of the Lakes. Nothing was to be seen the whole way but a series of undulations resembling nothing so strongly as the sea when the waves are rolling about in mountains. About half a mile from the valley we passed a few houses, when a man darting out from one, set off running full speed after us, and soon coming up with the car, panting for breath, announced himself as the guide about Glendaloch, whither he supposed we were going. Answering in the affirmative, he began to hold forth very eloquently upon the wonders of the place; on which I left him to descant awhile, and then said, "How much do you expect for shewing it?" to which he replied "Only eight-pence a shoe, my lady." I must confess his answer somewhat puzzled me, since I saw no immediate connection between a shoe and the curiosities of Glendaloch, unless that was honest Pat's mode of expressing so much for each person. On asking an explanation, it appeared that besides being guide of the place he was by profession a blacksmith, and mistaking the word shewing for shoeing, he thought I was asking how much he would charge for shoeing the horse.
Most of the writers upon Ireland have remarked, that the greater the distance from the capital the more wretched are the habitations of the peasantry. Indeed my observation leads me to say quite otherwise. I found the peasantry in the North much more decently housed than in any part of Ireland that I saw
Glendaloch is the site of an ancient city, formerly a bishop's see, which under the reign of King John was united with that of Dublin, or rather swallowed up in it, since after this union the name of Glendaloch as a see was wholly lost; the archbishopric remained that of Dublin only, the name of its suffragan was never added: one of the archdeaconries, however, of St. Patrick's cathedral is still called after it. The valley is encompassed with dark and gloomy rocks, throwing a shade around which seems to mark it as a proper theatre of superstition, and such it ever has been, such it is in some sort even at this day. The upper end is occupied by two lakes, whence it has its name. The remotest of these is nearly walled in by the rocks. On one side they rise abruptly, directly above the water; on the other, having a little more slope, its borders may be coasted to the end of the valley. It is closed by an amphitheatre of rocks, down which runs a considerable cascade. Some other streams run down the rocks, but none of any consequence. From this lake the valley gradually expands, and there is a considerable space of meadow between the two lakes. Indeed the first lake is wholly surrounded by meadow, though in some places very swampy. The ancient superstitions had peopled this valley with evil spirits, and its lakes with devouring serpents. When the Christian
To the saint thus conjured up was given the name of St. Kevin. On the origin of this name antiquarians are divided. According to some, Cevn, Kevn, or Kevin, was the name given of old to one of the mountains, from which it was transferred to the saint who was to hallow the mountain. Dr. Ledwich says that it was a very common practice in those early times, which were in nothing more distinguished than in being prolific of saints, to call a newly-created one after the name of some river, mountain, or other remarkable inanimate production of nature. Whatever might be the origin of his name, the saint, once produced, was a prodigious worker of miracles; in this respect he was scarcely inferior even to St. Patrick or St. Columba. A young man, his relation, who was under his tuition, and was exceedingly beloved by him, was attacked by a dreadful disease, which seemed likely to prove mortal, when the idea seized him that he should be cured by eating an apple, and he earnestly requested his patron to procure him one. Unluckily it was now the month of March; and it should seem that in those days the art of keeping apples through the winter was less understood than it is at present, for not one was to be had. Saint Kevin, therefore, addressed his prayers to Heaven, that its mercy might be extended to the unfortunate youth; when looking around him he observed a willow-tree just by, which had the extraordinary appearance of being full of ripe apples. Overjoyed at the sight, he gathered three and carried them to the young man, who eating them, found immediate relief from his malady, and in a short time was restored to perfect health. The same saint one day in Lent, having put his hand out at the window, raising it up piously towards heaven, a blackbird perched upon it, and in an instant deposited her eggs there. The holy man, in compassion to the bird, neither closed his hand nor drew it in, but remained with it stretched out in the same manner till the young birds were hatched and able to fly, when quitting their asylum he found himself at length released from a situation which certainly was by no means one to be envied. Again: Going up a hill one day in a time of dearth, he met a woman carrying
But the greatest of all his miracles was the driving away from the valley the evil spirits by which it was infested, and chaining fast the serpents that inhabited the lakes, to the rocky bottoms beneath. This done, and the place rendered habitable for mankind, a city was built under his auspices, which was in nothing so remarkable as in the number of churches it contained. Such is the fabulous legend of the origin of this city: at what time or by what race it was really built, cannot be ascertained with any certainty; but from the architecture observable in the few remains of it now existing, the probability appears that it may be dated even as far back as the seventh century. They are certainly some of the oldest remains now existing in Ireland. The Irish annals relate that this city was several times ravaged and plundered by the piratical Ostmen, or Danes, while they retained their footing in the island. These depredations, however, it appears to have survived, and to date its decay only from its being annihilated as a bishop's see.
From the confined space in which it stood, in a narrow valley bordered on three sides by rocks and lakes, it could never have been a place of large extent. The only remains now standing are those of the Seven Churches, as they are called, and from which the place is much more generally distinguished as The Seven Churches, than by its proper appellation of Glendaloch. The valley is entered from the east, and near the entrance stands The Ivy Church, so named, very appropriately, from the trifling remains that are standing being entirely overgrown with ivy. The abbey, of which there are also very inconsiderable remains, was according to tradition founded by Saint Kevin in the sixth century: here were many sculptures, ample descriptions of which are to be found in Dr. Ledwich's Antiquities, with an explanation of the supposed emblems intended in them; some of the figures are dragons and other fabulous animals; but the wolf seems the prevailing figure, he is under various forms and variously employed.
The cathedral is the most conspicuous among these vestiges of remote times. The nave is forty-eight feet in length and thirty in breadth; a semicircular arch divides it from the body of the church. Round the east window are some sculptures representing parts of the legend of Saint Kevin: among them is a
Saint Kevin's Kitchen is the name given to the most perfect of these ruins. The outward walls are nearly entire. It had only one window, which was ornamented with an architrave, and this also was of freestone. The area of this church is twenty-three feet in length by fifteen in breadth; the height twenty feet, and the walls measure three feet and a half in thickness. At the east end is a small archway, which leads to an inner chapel ten feet and a half in length and nine feet wide. On the north side of this chapel is a door which goes to another chapel, the same length and nearly eight feet wide. The chapels are of equal height, twelve feet, and have walls three feet in thickness; each has a small window in the centre of the east end. How this building has obtained the name of Saint Kevin's Kitchen, I could not learn. The other churches are Our Lady's Church, Trinity Church, and Teampall na Skelig, that is the Temple of the Desert, called also the Priory of the Rock.
In the cemetery, and near the cathedral, is a stone cross on which are some carvings not ill executed; it measures eleven feet in height, and is cut out of one stone. A round-tower also stands in the cemetery; it is in good preservation, excepting that the conical cap by which all these towers seem to have been terminated is entirely gone. To the Ivy Church, as also to Saint Kevin's Kitchen, are attached round-towers, not incorporated with them as if they had been built at the same time and intended as a part of them; they are evidently detached buildings, either of prior erection to the church and the church added to them, which seems the probability; or, as some are of opinion, subsequently erected in addition to the church, A third object of notice in the cemetery is the
In a rock rising above the further lake, at a considerable height above the water, is a cave which is called Saint Kevin's Bed. It is only accessible by a steep and narrow path in the rock, just wide enough for one person, and, being directly above the water, if the least false step be made, destruction is almost inevitable. Such an accident is recorded to have happened a few years ago to a young woman; she slipped, and was precipitated into the lake, nor was ever seen more. I did not attempt going up to it; in fact, I could not learn that it was worth taking the trouble of ascending to such a height, even if there had been no danger. Women visiting it are secured from any danger of dying in childbirth. Between the cathedral and the first lake is a cluster of very large thorns, which are said to have been planted by Saint Kevin. On the 3d of June, the anniversary of this Saint's death, the people from a great way round flock to Glendaloch to celebrate the day. A small stream which runs to the north of the valley is called Saint Kevin's Keeve. Weak sickly children, if dipped in this stream on a Sunday or Thursday morning before sunrise, will gain strength and become healthy and thriving.
The mountains here are a compact variety of schistus approaching in its general character to grey-wacke, abundantly veined with quartz, which is extremely reddened by ferruginous matter, offering to the eye a very beautiful marble-like appearance.
There seems to be some connexion between seven churches and a round-tower, since there are no less than four places in Ireland where we find this combination. In the Bay of Scarriff, on Lough Derg, is a beautiful and fertile island on which are the remains of seven churches and a round-tower seventy feet high, in extremely good preservation. On an island in the Shannon, properly Inis-Catha, but commonly called Scattery, are seven churches and a round-tower. It it said that there were originally eleven churches here but this is
From Glendaloch I proceeded over a continuation of wild and desolate mountains to Glen Molaur. This mountain road is one of several military roads made since the rebellion of 1798, over the mountainous parts of the county of Wicklow, to facilitate the passage of troops. I have spoken more than once of the many beautiful wooded dells, or glens, with which this county abounds, I must now speak of one of a very different description. Glen Molaur is a valley through which runs a stream bordered on each side with a narrow space of meadow, above which rise rude and barren rocks; but for the strips of meadow which seem foreign to the spot, it would be a fine scene of wild and savage grandeur. The valley runs on for several miles. A road was a few years ago made through it, and carried over the lofty amphitheatre of hills, by which it is bounded to the west, to form a more ready communication between the eastern and western sides of the county of Wicklow. At the place where the new military road crosses this, barracks have been erected, and they have led to a very good inn being established at a little distance. It was kept now by English people. I inquired what I could have for dinner; the reply was as usual, Chickens. "Let me have one roasted immediately." — "Very well; but it can't be ready for two hours." — "What do you mean? if 'tis alive now, it may be ready in half that time." — "No, 'tis not alive now, but 'tis impossible to get it ready sooner than I said." — "Get me some eggs, then, I won't wait for the chicken." — " They'll take us almost as long to do." — "Well, then the horse shall have a feed of corn, and I'll wait for my dinner till I get to Rathdrum." — "You'll be very late getting there; and we have very good beds here, you'll be very quiet and comfortable." — "Possibly, but I choose to go to Rathdrum to-night." — and away I walked, rather angrily, to visit some lead-mines about half a mile from the inn. These rocks are schistose, in some places exceedingly steep, almost perpendicular, in others less abrupt, everywhere abounding with quartz; large blocks of
This glen was in the reign of Queen Elizabeth the great asylum of Hugh O'Birne, who so long defied the higher powers, and was the scene of a terrible catastrophe to a party of English troops sent against him by Lord Grey. After a toilsome march, as the valley appears then to have been a perfect swamp, O'Birne and his followers, when the enemy were exhausted, poured down upon them from the fastnesses in the rocks among which they were themselves concealed, and the whole invading party were cut to pieces. Several officers of distinction fell; and the loss of the troops was the greater, from their being veterans long trained in these Irish wars, and selected therefore for the service. After stopping about an hour at the mines I returned to the inn, where I found all things prepared for dinner, and was informed the chicken was quite ready if I would please to stop and eat it. Though I was very angry with the people for having endeavoured to impose upon me, and make me stop there for the night, I did condescend so far as to put my anger in my pocket and eat the chicken. This done, I proceeded on to Rathdrum. The entrance to the valley, by which I was now making my exit, is very pretty; the valley expands, the hills gradually slope away, the river assumes a more romantic appearance, being wooded at the sides, and in the midst of the woods is a romantic bridge making a very pretty subject for a sketch; but I am no sketcher myself, and had no one with me to take it; I can only recommend the subject to any one who may pursue the same route, possessing the talent in which I am deficient. Soon after passing this spot the evening came on, and I saw no more of the road to
About two miles from Rathdrum, on the road to Tullow, there were formerly some of the most extensive iron-works in Ireland. They are now carried on to some extent, but have declined very much from what they once were, owing to the scarcity of wood for fuel. From the same cause many other iron-works in different parts of Ireland have for some years declined, while it is much to be feared there is no great disposition in this country to apply a remedy to the evil, that we may keep in our hands the supplying Ireland with wrought iron of all kinds. There is nothing very pretty either in the town of Rathdrum or its immediate environs, though it stands on the verge of one of the most beautiful parts of the county of Wicklow.
About a mile from Rathdrum I quitted the car to walk through the beautiful grounds of Avondale, formerly the seat of Mr. Hayes, by whom, he having no heirs of his own, it was bequeathed to the late patriotic Sir John Parnell, in whose family it now remains. The river Avonmore, that is the great winding stream, meanders through the grounds, having a shallow channel, tumbling over broken masses of rock. Its sides are sometimes fringed with close thickets of wood, sometimes with fine lawns having majestic forest-trees scattered about; in parts the dell is quite inclosed, having only majestic rocks covered with ivy
These grounds terminate at The meeting of the waters, a name to which the delightful muse of the Anacreon of Ireland, Mr. Moore, has given a celebrity which can never be lost again among the lovers of harmony of poetry or the beauties of nature. It is a sort of confluence of several beautiful little valleys, through some of which flow clear and limpid streams, and uniting here they form the Avoca. The principal of these streams are the Avonmore and the Avonbeg or little Avon. Mr. Moore attributes a part of the enchantment he found in this scene, and the sweet vale of Avoca, to visiting them in the society of friends whom he loved and cherished. Assuredly the society of friends, if they are friends indeed, adds indescribably to the charm of every spot; we may fairly say that every pleasure is at least doubled by being thus shared: but independent of every auxiliary, the meeting of the waters is truly a scene of enchantment.
From hence to Arklow, a distance of nine miles, is perhaps as beautiful a drive as can be seen in any country round the globe. The road lies entirely along the vale of Avoca, having the river winding through it with the most delightful wooded slopes rising on each side. Such is at least the general character of the vale: in one spot the wooded slopes are changed for high and naked rocks, where lie the copper mines of Cronebawn and Ballymurtagh on opposite sides of the river. To those of Cronebawn I ascended, but the rocks are steep and the ascent toilsome. The shafts are at a great height in the mountain, and go down to a great depth; there are several now no longer worked, the vein of ore having been exhausted, but new veins are continually found. I observed some of these neglected shafts having the mouths so much overgrown with thistles and brambles, that it was not easy to perceive them; and I remarked to the surveyor who was with me, that I thought it very dangerous, since a person might easily slip down one unawares. He said he
These rocks are a schist, and abound with the copper pyrites, which occasionally exhibits a pavonine tarnish. The schist is sometimes of a very deep gray colour, and is then the most rich in metal; sometimes also it has the green cast commonly called verdigris. The ore, when prepared for commerce, is either of a dull red or yellowish gray. The prevailing character of the schist is massive and rather of a granular texture, though sometimes it is considerably laminated, showing a smooth fine even surface. A stream strongly impregnated with vitriol, of great use in preparing the copper, is afterward suffered to run down into the river below, which it really poisons with its deleterious qualities; — this surely ought not to be permitted. I was informed that from the place — where the water is thus contaminated, to where it runs into the sea at Arklow, no fish can live in it, and that the working these mines has totally destroyed a very fine salmon-fishery at Arklow.
From this place the vale continues running in a southerly direction for some way, with the beautiful woods of Ballyarthur, the seat of Mr. Symes, skirting it. Then suddenly it takes a turn to the west, almost in a right angle: at this point there is a view down five different valleys, each, though bearing a general resemblance to the other, having its peculiar and distinct character. Here is a sort of second meeting of the waters, the Avoca being joined by a mountain stream pouring from one of the valleys. A road branching off from this point leads to the celebrated Croaghan mountain, whence came the gold which for a short time almost turned the heads of the whole neighbourhood. The precise time when the precious metal was first gathered never could be authentically ascertained, since those whose fortune it was to make the discovery strenuously endeavoured to conceal it, that the benefit might be reserved to themselves
The discovery was soon blazed abroad, and in an instant all other occupations were laid aside — the spade, the plough, the spinning-wheel, the loom, all, all were forsaken in search of the hidden treasures which there was no doubt the mountain contained within its bosom.
The tumultuous throngs that assembled here soon called forth the attention of the Government: it was judged necessary to subject the whole matter to some control; and a detachment of troops was sent to take possession of the prize in the name of the Crown, and keep off all other visitants. A grant of 1000l. was afterwards made by Government to two gentlemen of the neighbourhood, for the purpose of prosecuting scientifically the researches into the hidden treasures of the mountain. No mine or vein of gold could, however, upon the most diligent examination ever be discovered: the source whence the precious metal is derived still remains a secret; the great deposit must lie at a distance from the surface which baffles all research. Indeed it should seem as if the genius by whom the treasure is guarded (for it must be presumed that it is not without a guardian genius), offended by the intrusions attempted on his privacy, now in anger withholds his bounties, since in the latter years rarely has any gold been found, and, if any, in very small grains indeed. It was during the time when the treasure was open to the public that the greatest harvest was collected. Probably the treasures had been gradually accumulating unobserved; but the secret once revealed, not the slightest deposit can be made which is not immediately observed and secured. Gold to the amount of about 10,000l. was collected during this harvest. It came in
From the point whence the road to this mountain diverges from the sweet vale of Avoca, this beautiful vale gradually expands, the hills sloping away till on approaching Arklow the country becomes nearly a flat. A new road has lately been made through this part of the valley, at the foot of the hills, instead of going over their summits. It winds through Lord Carysfort's woods, having the beautiful woods of Shelton, the seat of Lord Wicklow, on the other side of the river. At the latter place are some of the finest oaks to be found in Ireland. There is something picturesque in the appearance of the town of Arklow, as approached on this side, standing on a slope above the river, with a ruined castle crowning the eminence, and the long bridge of twenty-one arches over the mouth of the river.
Having stopped here a sufficient time to bait the horse, to eat my own dinner, and to take a walk upon the beach, which affords nothing particularly worthy of remark, I proceeded along the coast to Wicklow. The shore for a length of way here is a flat sand; but in one spot rises a very remarkable sand-hill, the abode of innumerable rabbits. The situation of Wicklow is rather fine, lying on the slope of the promontory known as Wicklow Head, but I saw nothing remarkable in the town as I drove through it. I say drove through it, for that was all I did. I had intended stopping there for the night, and the next morning exploring some limestone caves at the foot of the Head; but though there was no fair here, no races, the town, from what cause I could not understand, was so full that not a bed was to be had either at an inn or in a private house, and I was obliged, though now dusk, to go on two miles further to my old quarters at Newrath-Bridge. Thus I not only lost the sight of my limestone caves, but
The next day I proceeded towards Boyne, passing through the Scalp, a natural curiosity which I had not yet seen. It is a vast gap in the summit of a mountain separating the county of Wicklow from that of Dublin, and has every appearance of being a rent made by some terrible convulsion of nature. For the two annexed plates of this extraordinary fissure I am indebted to my very good friend Mr. C ... , and they will give a much better idea of it than can be given by any description. The first is taken at the end of the gap on the county of Dublin side, with the sugar-loaf mountains seen at a considerable distance through it; — the second is taken in the centre of the gap, looking in the same direction, and shows the character of the rocks exactly as they appear rising above the road. By these it will be seen, that at bottom the gap is only the breadth of the road, and that the rocks slope away from it, so that at the top they are a considerable distance asunder. The sides of these slopes are strewn all over with immense blocks of the granite of which the mountain is composed. More accurate views of the spot I can safely say could not be taken.
That this extraordinary chasm should ever have been supposed to be produced otherwise than by some powerful operation of nature, or the hand which directs all nature, mighty in all its works, far beyond all efforts of human industry and ingenuity, I should have conceived scarcely possible. Yet the compiler of a work published about two years since, The Travellers Guide through Ireland, suggests a new theory, which I shall give in his own words, making two or three remarks upon it, and then leaving others to form their own opinions upon its probability or improbability. "This chasm," he says, — is imagined to have been caused by some violent convulsion of nature, which has rent the mountain in twain; but no theorist has ventured to conjecture that the breach might have been effected by dint of human labour, this being the only horizontal communication with the rich and enchanting valleys to the southward of this steep and almost perpendicular mountain, over whose transverse summit the formation of a road was impracticable. If Ireland was as much civilized in the remote periods of antiquity as represented in the
Horace, Ars Poetica
Against this theory is to be objected, that it was not impossible to carry a road over the mountains, since one is carried over, very near the chasm, to the lead-mines. In the next place, if hewn by the hand of man, whence come all those enormous broken masses of stone that cover the sides of the chasm — and in the third place, a road being made through it is a work of very modern date. There are many persons living who remember its being made, and who talk of the vast labour employed in removing the broken masses that lay scattered at the bottom of the hollow, so as to level it for making the road. If the work is not to be ascribed to the great Architect of the universe, it seems more natural to ascribe it, as it is sometimes ascribed, to the opposite agent than to the hand of man. Some will have it that this same agent one morning bit this piece out of the mountain for his breakfast; and it must be owned that it was a breakfast worthy of himself. But this agent is not a very favourite workman in Ireland, and I believe there are not many votaries to this theory. I scarcely ever heard of any great achievements of his: if he did accomplish that in question, he seems to have gone after breakfast contentedly to his glen, and there remained quiet; indeed he had every reason to be satisfied with his birth. The great operators of wonders in Ireland are giants, fairies, and saints.In the afternoon of this day, the fourth from my departure, I re-entered Dublin, having gone over as much beautiful and grand scenery in the course of my excursion as could well be comprehended in so short a space of time.