The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1892-10-22

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him and with others. In those autumn
days shadows gigantic, like men ant
horses on tapestry blown by the wind
elbow one through the sea shadows
Desmonds are there, ,many a one; knighta
templars, whom Raymond le Gros estab
lished here when he came with Strong
bow, Boyles, Cromwell The place wat
the key Of the country, and all the great
English adventurers tarried in the towr
at one time or other. But none OF them
SO fascinating as this Raleigh-he as ad
venturous, and more romantic il less no.
BILE than your Columbus. .
The evening was at Raleigh's house
did not SEQ his bedchamber, for girl,
one Of the family, was i'll in it, with a
heavy cold. thought not all the world
would induce me to sleep long October
night in that oak bedchamber, or long
evening with the shadows coming slowly,
so grey and loEg in all the black corners.
You may get the Raleigh house but in
your surroundings the ghost will flee
away. How different 1t will be from
gray Youghal, where the only thing vehe-
msntly living is the Atlantic, whose long
rollers, unbroken from your coasts, are
roaring like bulls at the sea wall. Pres
entity they will have it down. What is
the harbor. of Youghal was once dry land
Year after year the sea encroaches stead
lily. Even in mild weather it is at the
windows of the summer villas in cata-
racts of fine silver spray. Presently
these mushroom things will disappear,
and the Atlantic will go on tearing its
way under the foundations of the fine
old houses that climb the hillside to the
ancient town walls OF Youghal. stayed
in convent when was at Youghal, fac
ing the sea--a long Spanish built house,
with balconies and shutters, and at the
back little inclosed courtyard, ct the
foot If where the hill made spring
higher out Of reach Of ravening waters.
An evil place despite the holiness and
the gentle lives, where thought mys-
| terious voices whispered in my ear at
night, ana where, after the profound ST.
lence bell at 9 p. m., would not prom
enade the corridors for any bribe you
would give me. ....
! Youghal is full of stately houses. One
enters the town proper by row of them
facing boulevard of twisted trees blown
away by the sea wind. In the main
street is the Red house, great old house
that might have stepped from a story of
Hawthorne's, standing back from sthe
street, kindly and lonely. It is stained
to beautiful harmonies of colors by wind
and weather, and great old garden
climbs the hill at the back, Many
houses at Youghal have the twisted
truckers, tretoiled windows, heraldic
badges and friezes, which are the signs
of their old consequence. There is a
specially stately bit as you come up by
the college of Thomas Fitzgerald, earl of
Desmond, to Sc. Mary's church. At one
side are the tall, grave old houses, beau
tifully kept. At the other side is the
college wall, with myrtle and valerian
nodding over it. 1t is like a bit of Ok
ford out of term.
Sir Walter, by the way, has left traces
at Youghal of the gentleness of feeling
that tempered SO beautifully his bucca-
neering qualities. Not only did he first
introduce tobacco and the potato at
Youghal, bnt here; too, he first planted
the cherry and the dear wall-flower. He
set up his cherry orchard at Otfane on
the Blackwater, and in this town of the
sleeping beauty the little industry of
fruit growing still thrives and is encour-
aged. In the same way the wall-flower
and the gilly-fower, s'la belle iaune giro
| tee," flourish everywhere in Youghal. Of
an autumn morning have come upon
such dish of fruit in Youghal shop
window as lighted up the street; pears
of amber, purple to blackness, and hard
by basket of yellow and scarlet toma-
toes, ripe and smooJh heshed.
like better to think Of Raleigh in the
days of his splendor, when he lived in
gentle communion with Spenser here at
Youghal, than in those days when he
sailed from Youghal harbor on that last,
hopeless voyage the last except that on
which the axe of the executioner in
London tower WAS to launch him. No
| doubt he was homesick in Youghal,
lonely for his Bess, in that quaintII tIIhouse
which, with it's gables and chimney
stacks, was oddly like his Devon manor-
house. Spenser was the one alienation
Of his loneliness.
Raleigh's fate We know. He was like
Columbus once again in the misery Of
his last days in the ingratitude and neg
lect that followed all his gallant deeds.
/ Columbus wns saint. Raleigh was an