THE old Castle of Blarney, like the castle of Macbeth, by Inverness,
“hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentler senses;”
and it commands a fine view “over the water and over the Lee” over lake and meadow, and over “the Groves1 of Blarney,” renowned2 in song. The landscape rewards your exertions3, when you have ascended4 the narrow staircase of the sole remaining tower, and this somewhat resembles (“magna componere”) an excellent “Stilton,” which has gone the way of all good cheeses, and is now a hollow ruin—a ruin on which some sentimental5 mouse might sit, like Marins at Carthage, and bitterly recall the past.
Looking down this cavity, made gloomier by the dark ivy6 and wild myrtle, which grow from floor to battlement, one feels that fainty thrill and chilliness8 which is equally unpleasant and indescribable, and gladly divert our attention, first to the stone displaced by a cannon9 shot, in the days of the incomparable Lady Jeffreys, when
“Oliver Cromwell, he did her pummell,
and then to another stone lower down in the tower, and bearing the inscription11, “Cormac Macarthy Fort is Me Fieri Fecit, a.d. 1446,” which may be translated liberally,
“Cormac Macarthy, bould as bricks,
Made me in Fourteen Forty-six.”
This is said to be the original Blarney Stone, but as no man could possibly kiss it, unless (as Sir Boyle Roche observed) he happened to be a bird, or an acrobat12, twelve feet long, and suspending himself by his feet from the summit of the Tower, we were content to believe in the conventional granite13, which now bears the name, and which, being situated14 at the top of one of the turrets15, is very accessible for osculation.
Of this lapideous phenomenon, the author of “The Groves of Blarney” sings,
“There is a stone there, that whoever kisses,
Or become a member of parliament.
An out-an-outer, to be let alone:
Don't hope to hinder him, or to bewilder him,
Sure he's a pilgrim from the Blarney Stone!”
Now it is my conviction, primarily suggested by my own sensations, and subsequently confirmed by what I noticed in others, as I lingered on that ancient tower, that the majority of those who kiss the Blarney Stone, do wish and try to believe in it. We English have so scanty19 a stock of superstitions21, and some of these so wanting in refinement22 and dignity, as, for instance, the “crossing out” of an isolated23 magpie24, the ejection of spilt salt over the left shoulder, deviations25 into the gutter26 to avoid a ladder, the mastication27 of pancakes upon Shrove Tuesday, and the like, that we are glad of any pretext28 for gratifying that innate29 love of the marvellous, which exists, more or less, in us all,—ay, and will exist, until John Bright is Premier30 of England, and our Fairy Tales and Arabian Nights, and all our books of pleasant fiction are solemnly burnt at Oxford31, before a Synod of costive Quakers.
And then it is so gratifying for Mammas to fancy, as they bend to kiss the magic stone, that assuredly they “stoop to conquer,” henceforth, by a new and dulcet33 eloquence34, those little idiosyncrasies of “dear Papa,” which have thwarted35 their happiest schemes, such as his insuperable apathy36 on the subject of that new Conservatory37, although “you know, darling, both Mr. Nesfield and Mr. Thomas declared it to be indispensable.”
Pleasant, too, for their charming daughter of nineteen, to think that she hereafter shall not ask in vain for that tour in Switzerland, that ball at home, those boxes, varying in shape and size; small, from the stores of Howell and of James; medium, from Messieurs Hill and Piver; and large, very large, from “the infallible Mrs. Murray,” and Jane Clark, in the Street of the Regent.
Enlivening, moreover, for that Eton boy to believe, as he salutes38 the Blarney Stone, that now he has only to give the Governor a hint, and “that clipping little horse of young Farmer Smith's” will be purchased forthwith, and presented to him, to carry him next season with the Belvoir hunt.
Miserable39 Father, how shall he meet this irresistible40 incursion upon his purse and peace. Well may he look coldly on the Blarney Stone! Well may he express, from heart and hope, his belief that it's “all humbug41.” And yet, methinks, remembering that last Election, that distressingly42 effete43 experiment to nominate Sir John Golumpus, that fearful silence, when he came to grief, that vulgar gibe44 “go 'ome, and tak' a pill,” he too must sigh for this gift of Blarney, and long to kiss the Stone.
See, they are leaving the battlements,—first the Etonian, then his sister, and then Mamma. O, wily Paterfamilias! Suddenly remembering that he “has left his stick” (he has, and purposely), he steps briskly back, and, stooping for his cane,—salutes the rock! He, at all events, won't “kiss, and tell!”
But everybody kisses it. The noisy old girl, whom we met yesterday at the table d'hôte, and who preferred steel to silver, as a medium for the transmission of food, reached the summit of the tower very short of wind, but resumed, as soon as ever she could speak, a severe sermon upon the errors of “Room,” and its superstitions in particular. And yet, ultimately (affecting to do it in ridicule,—let us be charitable, and hope that, in her heart of hearts, she had in view the conversion45 of her “genteel Aconite”), she kissed the Stone; and we were glad to have already done so.
We saw the kitchen, where beeves were cooked in the merry old times, and the banquet-hall wherein they were carved. The latter was appropriated to a miscellaneous collection of rickety old farming implements,—rust, and dust, and decay, where brave knights46 laughed over the winecup,—
And beauty led the ball.”
Shall we re-ascend the tower, and preach, from that old stone pulpit, on “pulvis et umbra sumus?” Perhaps, as there is no congregation, and a Lunatic Asylum48 mighty49 convanient, we may as well postpone50 our sermon, and turn our steps to the gardens and groves of Blarney.
If the poet had not told us that “they are so charming,” I should scarcely have discovered the fact for myself, as they are but feebly ornamented51 with flowers, and—
And conversation, in sweet solitude,”
are damply suggestive of a cold in the head. At the same time, from their pleasant position and varied54 surface, these grounds have a charm about them; and I should much like to wander in them, by moonlight, with—(I must decline, like the Standard Bearer, to communicate the young lady's name), just to see whether I had derived55 any benefit from my salutation of the Blarney Stone; whether I could say mavourneen with a sweeter tenderness, and discourse56 more fluently those “sugared glosses,” which are called by the sentimental “heart music,” and by the unsentimental “bosh.”
In these grounds the portly old gardener showed us one of those Cromlechs, which were used by the Druids for sacrificial or sepulchral57 purposes, and in which, I am ashamed to say, we professed58 an all-absorbing interest, though, on my asking Frank, as we left the gardens, “what a Cromlech was?” he replied that, prior to inspection59, his idea had always been that it was a species of antediluvian60 buffalo61!
Then we saw the lake
They say that, from this lake enchanted68 cows, snow-white and of wondrous69 beauty, come forth32 in the summer mornings, and wander among the dewy meads, to the intense astonishment70 and admiration71, doubtless, of the celebrated72 Irish Bulls. 1
1 The only lapsus linguar, resembling a bull, which I heard
during our tour, was from a fellow-passenger, in Connamara,
who was repeating a conversation, of which he declared
himself to have been an eye-witness.
And they say, moreover, that beneath these waters (which we ventured to designate Cowesharbour, in allusion73 to the mysterious kine), lies the plate-chest of the Macarthys, about the size of a gasometer, and never to be raised until once again a Macarthy shall be lord of Blarney. It will be a busy day for the butler, and a happy one for those who deal in plate-powder, whenever this restoration shall occur.
Our driver gave us, as we returned, a taste of his autobiography74. I wish that I could repeat it verbatim, for Irish humour loses its bloom if it is not faithfully rendered; but my memory only retains the incidents, and, here and there, a phrase of his story.
He was in England several years ago, at the time of harvest, travelling, sickle75 in hand, with a dozen of “the boys,” and looking out for employment in the neighbourhood of, or, as he termed it, “contagious to th'ould castle of Newark-upon-Trent.” A hot wind blew the dust along the road, for “the good people were a-going their journeys;” 1 and they were resting awhile, and looking at a fine crop of wheat, by the wayside, when two young men on horseback stopped, and asked them “whether they wanted work?”
1 “The Irish have a superstition20, that when the dust is
caught up and blown about by the wind, it is a sign that the
fairies are travelling.”—Tales and Novels by Maria
Edgeworth, vol. iv. p. 72.
Now, it seems, that there lived in these parts, at the period of our history, one of those unhappy malcontents whose counsel, like Moloch's, is for open war with everything and everybody about them; who can believe no good of their neighbours, because they find none in themselves; who murmur76 at the rich, and are mean and merciless to the poor; who go to meeting house to spite the parson, and to church to vex77 the preacher; who attend parish-meetings to stir up quarrels, and to set one class against another; who poison foxes, and put their great ugly boots into partridge-nests; and sedulously78 devote themselves in every way to promote the misery79 of mankind.
A bear of this calibre, calling himself a farmer, was tenant80 of the field on which the Irishman gazed; and a plan occurred to the merry young gentlemen by which they might amuse themselves, occupy the reapers81, and annoy “that mangy old hunks.” Accordingly, they at once retained our friend the car-driver, and his company, to cut the crop before them, giving them particular directions to get it down as quickly as they could, and agreeing to pay them liberally by the acre, as “their father was anxious to get it stacked, and would not mind their doing the work a bit slovenly82, if only they lost no time.” And then, having warned them “not to take any notice of a poor half-witted fellow, who lived near, and who, fancying that all the land about was his own, might possibly try to interrupt their proceedings,” the horsemen wished them “good-day.”
They had been at work for nearly an hour, and had left behind them, in their anxious haste, such an untidy example of sheaf and stubble as would have broken Mr. Mechi's heart, when a loud bellowing83 in the distance announced the arrival of the unhappy lunatic! He came on, roaring and raving84, shaking his fist, and foaming85 at the mouth. He actually danced with rage among the sickles86, until the reapers, fearing the excision87 of his legs, forcibly removed him, and with twisted strawbands, secured him to his own gate! There, trussed and pinioned88, he sent forth such howlings through “the alarmed air,” as scared every crow from the parish, and very speedily attracted the surprised attention of the British public travelling upon the Great North Road.
The reapers, eventually, found it expedient89 to retire with considerable agility90, much disgusted and discomfited91, at being “sich a distance on the wrong side of the wage, bedad,” until they were met by their delighted employers, who not only presented them with a couple of sovereigns, but introduced them, with the anecdote92, to a jolly old gentleman, hard by, from whom they had employment until the end of harvest.
In allusion to the subject of Irishmen in England, I asked the car man, when he had concluded his story, whether he was aware that there were as many of his countrymen living in London as in the city of Dublin itself? 1 And his reply, to the effect, that I had “brought away a dale o' vartue from th' ouldstone a top o Blarney,” reminded me of an observation made, when I was at school, by our French master, to a boy named Drake. “Monsieur Canard93, I shall not call you a liar94 but I do not believe von vord of vot you say!”
1 See an interesting account of the Irish in London, in The
We had a fine view, as we returned, of the beautiful city and its environs, and re-entering by another route, we passed the ornate chapel96, commenced by Father Mathew, at the date and with the design, so charmingly recorded by the poet,
“The first beginning of this new chapel
Was in eighteen hundred and thirty-three;
It will soon be finish'd by the subscribers,
Next morning, having purchased, as we were commissioned and as we recommend other tourists to do, a good stock of highly finished but low-priced gloves from Mollard, in the street of St. Patrick, we started by rail for Dublin.
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1
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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2
renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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eels
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| abbr. 电子发射器定位系统（=electronic emitter location system） | |
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8
chilliness
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| n.寒冷，寒意，严寒 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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acrobat
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| n.特技演员，杂技演员 | |
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13
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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14
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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turrets
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| （六角）转台( turret的名词复数 )； （战舰和坦克等上的）转动炮塔； （摄影机等上的）镜头转台； （旧时攻城用的）塔车 | |
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16
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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spouter
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| 喷油井；捕鲸船；说话滔滔不绝的人；照管流出槽的工人 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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superstitions
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| 迷信，迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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23
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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magpie
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| n.喜欢收藏物品的人，喜鹊，饶舌者 | |
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25
deviations
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| 背离，偏离( deviation的名词复数 )； 离经叛道的行为 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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mastication
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| n.咀嚼 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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premier
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| adj.首要的；n.总理，首相 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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dulcet
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| adj.悦耳的 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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thwarted
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| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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36
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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38
salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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39
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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distressingly
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| adv. 令人苦恼地；悲惨地 | |
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effete
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| adj.无生产力的，虚弱的 | |
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gibe
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| n.讥笑；嘲弄 | |
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conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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46
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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tapers
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| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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postpone
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| v.延期，推迟 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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antediluvian
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| adj.史前的，陈旧的 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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perches
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| 栖息处( perch的名词复数 )； 栖枝； 高处； 鲈鱼 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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leeches
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| n.水蛭( leech的名词复数 )；蚂蟥；榨取他人脂膏者；医生 | |
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beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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autobiography
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| n.自传 | |
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sickle
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| n.镰刀 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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sedulously
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| ad.孜孜不倦地 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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reapers
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| n.收割者，收获者( reaper的名词复数 )；收割机 | |
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slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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83
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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84
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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85
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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86
sickles
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| n.镰刀( sickle的名词复数 ) | |
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excision
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| n.删掉；除去 | |
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88
pinioned
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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canard
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| n.虚报；谣言；v.流传 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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tyrants
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| 专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 )； 暴君似的人； （古希腊的）僭主； 严酷的事物 | |
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