Dryden's Virgil. The Aeneid of Virgil translated by John Dryden, Book 1
- Within a long recess there lies a bay.
An island shades it from the rolling sea,
And forms a Port secure for ships to ride,
Broke by the jutting land on either side.
In double streams the briny waters glide
Between two rows of rocks. A sylvan scene
Appears above, and groves for ever green.
Cork Harbour is considered one of the best and most frequented ports in Ireland; its mouth is narrow, probably not more than half a mile from side to side, and is commanded by two forts named Camden and Carlisle, passing which the view opens on a magnificent expanse of water resembling a bay.
25 Spike Island, on which extensive and regular works have lately been erected, is considered its principal defence; and lies between
The old parish church is named Clonmell and stands about a mile from Cove. Here Tobin, the dramatic writer whose comedy of the Honeymoon has long been a favourite on the British stage, lies buried; having died in the harbour on his passage to the West Indies.
From the hill above the town of Cove, the prospect on a clear and sunny day is extremely beautiful and animated. A sheet of water, whose extent appears capable of receiving the entire naval force of England, specked as it always is with some ships of war, and many merchant vessels at their moorings, is enlivened by the graceful movements of numerous pleasure-boats and hookers, and studded with islands of various forms and colour. Behind these to the south-west is seen the main-land of Ringaskiddy, and to the east lies Rostellan, the mansion of the Marquis of Thomond, with many other beautiful seats.
A small fort was built on Haulbowline Island, (now the depôt of naval and ordnance stores, and situated north-west of Spike,) by order of the Lord Deputy Mountjoy, in 1601, for the defence of the river, which, with a noble sweep between a point of the Great
The Barony of Kerricurrichy forms the western side of the harbour, and opposes its rocky southern coast to the sea. Its principal village is Carrigaline, which tradition states the first Earl of Cork intended should rival Cork in commerce, and had actually proceeded so far in his gigantic undertaking as to have marked out the groundplan of an extensive city; but the scheme, which originated in the comparative distance of their situations from the sea, ended with the life of its projector.
The Carrigaline river is called Annabuoy or Avonbuoy, in English signifying the Yellow River, from the colour of its waters, to which the floods caused by heavy rains give a muddy yellow tinge. Although of a considerable breadth, it is easily forded in two or three places at low water, and is not navigable any great distance except by small boats, though within its mouth, which more resembles and is sometimes called a creek, there is good anchorage for vessels of considerable burthen; and it is related that five ships of war under the command of Sir Francis Drake, being closely pursued by the Spanish fleet, ran up this river a short way to a part named Tubberavoid (the well of safe anchorage), since called Drake's Pool, where the little squadron lay land-locked and completely concealed from their pursuers, who, sailing into Cork Harbour without discovering their prey, gave up the chase.
The Castle of Carrigaline is seated on an immense mass of limestone
The fishing village of Crosshaven lies at the mouth of the river, nearly facing the town of Cove, and sheltered by a large hill called Currabinnagh, that rises from the opposite shore, crested with a rude cairn.
The most extensive demesne in this district is Coolmore, the residence of Mr. Newenham, which contains above 500 acres.
The Hodder and Daunt families are the principal landed proprietors, and have several seats, the best of which are Hoddersfield and Ringabella, belonging to the former, and Gurtegreennan and Myrtleville to the latter: the ground, in general, is extremely barren and requires much labour and expense to cultivate. A farm not far from Hoddersfield was described to me by its proprietor as ‘the back bone of the world picked by the devil,’ on account of the inveterate obduracy of the soil. The Carrigaline road to Monkstown leads through a romantic defile called Glenathauwk, or the Hawk's Glen, and the return to Passage is over a steep hill named the Giant's Stairs, derived from twelve or fourteen projecting rocks, rising one above the other like a flight of steps, with a rude and ponderous air of regularity resembling a Druidical work.
The town of Passage, which possesses little to detain the visitor, is
Douglas, a village mid-way between Passage and Cork, is surrounded by many fine seats, the largest of which is Maryborough, containing nearly 400 acres. These houses are generally judiciously placed as to prospect, but seldom possess much ground. ‘This will not be deemed extraordinary,’ says Mr. Townsend in his Statistical History of Cork, ‘when it is considered that any thing of good demesne land in this quarter brings from eight to ten pounds per acre. A price so far exceeding the actual value of farm land arises for the great demand for villas amongst the opulent inhabitants of Cork.’
The hills on each side of the river afford so many inviting situations that they are now literally studded with villas encompassed by ten or twenty acres each.
On the road side between Passage and Douglas is Ronaynes Court, the residence of Alderman Evanson, an old mansion, and easily recognised as such by its lofty chimneys and numerous gable-ends. A large stone chimney-piece in one of the rooms bears the following inscription:
‘Morris Roulan and Margaret Gould builded this house in the yeare of our Lorde
1627, and in the third yeare of Kinge Charles M R Love God and neighbours IHS M G’
Blackrock is amongst the most beautiful outlets of Cork. It is a little peninsula thickly covered with the houses and neat cottages of the gentry and traders. The Castle of Blackrock, about three English miles from Cork, was built in the early part of the reign of James I. by the Lord Deputy Mountjoy, for the defence of the river which washes its base; it was a single circular tower, and in 1722 the corporation added some buildings and placed an octagon room and cupola on it. Here the mayors held an Admiralty Court,
Thirty years since, Blackrock contained only the cottages of a few revenue officers, and the huts of some fishers and boatmen. The only buildings with any claims to antiquity beside its Castle, being an ivy-mantled tower in Mr. Murphy's grounds, called Ring Mahon, and Dundanion Castle, about half a mile nearer Cork than that of Blackrock, which has the appearance of an old mansion, and is laid down on the plan of Cork given in the Pacata Hibernia as ‘Galwaies Castell,’ being probably a seat of that family. The neighbouring houses are modern, and many of them possess an air of neatness and comfort, nearly approaching those of the English merchants. Having the advantage of sea-bathing on the verge of their gardens, they are extremely pleasant and healthy, and hence the place has now become populous. Near Blackrock Castle is Castle Mahon, the residence of Lady Chatterton, beautifully placed, and which it would be ungrateful to pass without the acknowledgment of having spent many of my happiest hours there.
Lakelands, the seat of Mr. Crawford, and Beaumont, that of Mr. Beamish, are the most extensive demesnes at Blackrock.
About half way between Cork and its Castle lies the village of Ballintemple, (in English, Church Town,) and adjacent to it is a little burial ground, from which it has probably originally been named. The situation of this cemetery is retired and romantic, and the few tombstones that rise above the large dock leaves and nettles with which it is overgrown, record the names of such villagers as have
‘As the ship lay some miles down the river, he was rowed up in one of her boats towards the city, that he might have medical advice and such attendance as he required, but being pleased with the appearance of our village from the water, resolved on stopping here. He remained at Blackrock about a week; his health, instead of improving, every day became worse and worse, and oh, Sir, it would be impossible to tell how tenderly the poor young lady nursed him, and how she watched by his bed-side day and night; but it was all in vain; he was so exhausted from the effects of the fever which he had in the West Indies, that he died on the eighth day after his landing.’
‘The dear lady sunk under her affliction; his loss, her destitute situation, alone and in a foreign land, added to the fatigue of her constant attendance on him, altogether so preyed on her that in two days she was a corpse by his side; and the black servant, who had come over with them, seeing how things were, packed up every article, even their very clothes, and went off on board ship the same night.’
‘The bodies of this poor young couple were put in two common deal coffins, and buried in one grave, and the expenses of their wake and funeral paid by a subscription made amongst the inhabitants. None of us could tell their name nor who were their friends, for the black servant had carried off every thing, (God forgive him!) and every paper belonging to them. The affair was talked of for a month or two after, but the fate of these young people, like most other things, was forgotten in a short time.’
‘It was two or three years after their death, that an elderly gentleman one morning knocked at my door, asking if this was not the village of Ballintemple. On my answering that it was, he inquired if I knew any thing respecting a young officer who had died here;
The delicacy which had induced this untutored old woman to refrain from intrusion on the father's melancholy duty would have pleaded her excuse for the minuteness of her narrative, had not my age at that time rendered one unnecessary; and should the reader require an apology for the relation, I can only refer him to the feelings of his boyish days.
A large portion of the ground at Blackrock being held under a precarious ecclesiastical tenure, has no doubt prevented its improvement. The total want of places of worship for a district so numerously inhabited is very striking, there being neither church nor chapel, until within a few months, when, through the exertions of Doctor Murphy, the Titular Bishop of Cork, a Roman Catholic chapel was erected.
Adjoining the Blackrock road, in a field about a mile from Cork, amethysts have been found, but of an inferior quality to those procured in foreign countries. The quarry was discovered more than twenty years since, and after being worked for a short time the question of proprietorship got into Chancery, where it still remains.
Many tons of earth were thrown over the excavations which had been made, and a guard placed to prevent farther search; but notwithstanding these precautions, I have seen some good crystals recently picked up there.
It is the opinion of those more conversant than myself with geology,
Many curious anecdotes are told relating to its first discovery, which of course created what may be termed a sensation in Cork, and induced some of the jewellers to speculate largely in the purchase of amethysts. One of these stories partakes so much of the spirit of waggery ever superabundant in Cork, that I cannot resist its insertion. A lump of sugar-candy was procured by two or three of those mortals who are fond of enjoying a laugh at the expense of others, and carefully bedaubed with clay, through which the delicate glistening points of its crystals projected. This, being placed in the hands of a boy well instructed in his part, was offered for sale to a lapidary, who had, for some days previous, eagerly bought up every amethyst brought into his shop. ‘Some of them find purple stones,’ said the boy, with an air of simplicity, ‘but here is a yellow stone, and I'll not sell it under a guinea.’ The bargain was soon struck, the money paid, and the lapidary, imagining he had obtained a fine topaz, and rejoicing in his good fortune, hastened to throw it into a basin of water to soften the clay which concealed its lustre. His astonishment and dismay were somewhat great on finding the gem dissolved, and the muddy water delicately sweetened! — but all was not lost — he received an invitation that evening to a supper provided with his guinea, and on the entrance of a bowl of punch was asked if he did not usually sweeten it with ‘syrop of topaz.’ Finding the laugh against him, he had no resource but to join in it with the best grace he could.
The beauty of Cork Harbour renders it an exceedingly attractive excursion for strangers, and one no less agreeable than easy in its performance, as steam-vessels, for the accommodation of passengers, ply between Cork and Cove.
Rising immediately from the northern shore of the river, below Cork, a richly wooded hill extends about three miles, studded with
The probable derivation of the name Glenmire appears to be from two Irish words signifying the Vale of Pleasantry, although Dr. O'Brien in his Irish Dictionary has drawn it from a less obvious source. The village of Riverstown, formerly called Bally rosheen, or the Town of the Little Rose, joins that of Glenmire, and is principally inhabited by poor weavers and other manufacturers.
A severe skirmish took place here, on the 16th January, 1716, occasioned by a mutiny amongst the garrison of Cork, who left their barracks and encamped on the north side of the city for a few days, whence they proceeded to Glenmire, where they took up a position. On being attacked by some troops with two field-pieces that had arrived in the harbour the same morning, the mutineers, headed by a Dutchman named Garvy, made a desperate stand near the bridge, and their supply of ball cartridge failing, they made use of their buttons as a substitute for bullets, but were obliged at last to give way, and retreated in disorder. Garvy was afterwards tried and shot, with two others of the ringleaders. Numerous relics of this action were ploughed up in 1807, of which I remember having seen a rusty halberd and several grapeshot.
Glenmire with its surrounding scenery affords many pleasing subjects for the pencil, which, although excellent studies, are without any important or peculiar feature. The old parish church, about a mile distant from the village, is called Rathcooney, or the Rabbit's Rath, probably from the number of raths or intrenchments to be seen in its neighbourhood. This church is in ruins and has been long disused for service, yet the little burial-ground attached to it continues to be a favourite place of interment.
The oldest date I could find amongst the tombs was 1680, on the
A small volume, purporting to be a picturesque description of Glenmire, was published at Cork in 1814, by a singular personage named Alexander, and is perhaps the most extraordinary literary compound in existence. This person, who is since dead, held some inferior situation under the excise, which had been bestowed on him as a reward for his conduct as Town Major of New Ross in the rebellion of 1798. He had been, as he once told me, a soldier and a sailor, a methodist preacher and a player, an excise officer and the author of many excellent and moral works — had been in the four quarters of the globe, and was the esteemed and acknowledged cousin-german of Sir W. S—, Bart, and Lord Mayor of the city of Dublin.
The Little Island or Lisle, so called in opposition to the Great Island or Barrymore, is situated below Glenmire, and forms, with the Great Island, the north-east shore of the Cork river. Behind these islands, which are separated from the main land by a shallow and scarcely navigable channel, lie Carrigtohill, an inconsiderable
On the 16th October, 1679, Lord Broghill (then Earl of Orrery), so frequently mentioned in this volume, died at Castle Martyr: I am induced to mention the circumstance from having procured accidentally some singular verses on his death, with other old papers, at a cottage in this neighbourhood. These verses were printed in London, for Rowland Reynolds, at the Middle Exchange in the Strand, 1680, and are entitled Minerva's Check to the Author, for attempting to write an Elegy upon the Right Honourable and much to be lamented Roger, first Earl of Orrery. A few lines will probably be quite sufficient to satisfy the reader's curiosity:
- That news hath wings, we every day do find,
And ill doth ever leave the best behind;
Admire not then the death of Orrery,
Renown'd all 's days, should in a moment flie
Both far and near, the world to terrific,
At Cork, at Dublin, London, and at Paris
Too soon 't arrives, and Rome, but there ne'er tarries,
Till at both Indies, or where e'er more far is.
- His care to breed brave horses thou wouldst write,
In peace for pleasure, and in war for fight:
Thou fain wouldst talk on 's victory at Knockny Clarshy,
And praise him (next to God) the God-a-mercy.
- His sacred Poems, now but in the press,
Will speak his noble praise in fairer dress.