The record-union., 1893-05-13


means Colman's Church. There were
above sixty saints Colman, and any of
these, TO ones liking, may be taken as the
patron saint of this particular townland
locality. The castle, as the ruins indi-
cate, however remote its date of construc-
tlon, must have been one of strength and
Importance. Historically it is known to
nave been originally one of the great
Earl OF Desmond's fortified castles. The
lower portion of the great quadrangular
keep Is IN good state of preservation for
about thirty feet from the ground: one of
It's side walls. showing a noble window,
rises solidly and firmly for, perhaps,
twenty five feet above this, and mas
slve square fianking tower still lifts its
rough old walls to a probable hight of
seventy feet. 1t must have been a weird
and dreary place for one of Spenser's fine
nature
But three things of the gravest import
ance to poet, prince or peasant, came to
thls man In his eleven years of practical
Punishment here, between 1857 and 1899.
The first of these was the Christening and
eXalllng influence of absolute self-denial.
The second was in his wooing and mar
rylng woman "of mean BIRTH" who
was SO loyal, sweet and good, that Spen-
ser never knew an unhappy hour on her
account during his life, more power TO
women ''of mean birthn for it. The
other was in his visits to and communions
with his noble friend, Raleigh, at messy
old Youghal, few miles distant upon
the seacoast. Raleigh, genius and poet
that he himself was, generously recog-
nlzed the greater poets true greatness,
warmed his heart with sunny hospitali
ties, sustained his doubtful dreamings
with strong and heartsome friendship,
and in 1889 bodily took the timorous
Spenser to London, personally intro
duced him to the Queen, and that very
year saw the pu ublication of the first three
books of "Faerie Queen"
These three good fortunes, despite Bit
ter financial straits on the one hand, and,
on the other, Irish ''rebellions" of such
startling frequency that every tar line of
trees, like trembling silhouettes against
the horizon, undou btedly took on the
form OF Desmond and Tyrone avengers,
made him sing as no English poet before
his time had ever sung. And in these
true things of his life lay the compensa-
tions, for the later days of poverty in
London, where, as the sequel proved,
English indifference was more fatal than
Irish savagery, brought him nothing
save the loyalty of his companion "of
mean BIRTH" and he was allowed to die
IN want in the land he had more in
lnltely honored than any other who ever
loved 1t, save Shakespeare. There is but
little here to remind of Spenser now. So
desolate is old Kilcolman and devoid of
suggestive association the region round
about, that the pilgrim hither must per-
force bring Spenser along i'll his heart,
and build almost the entire fabric of life,
home and haunts from his own loving
fancy. Only one real and sweet thing is
here which will always remain as if re-
vealing the radiance of the poets gentle
presence. That is the near little river,
Awbeg, the "Mulla' of his Joyous verse
nd ,,alA
sings of him who sung, on its sunny,
beauteous way to the Black water and the
sea.
There is nothing more beautiful in all
Ireland than Cork City, set in stone and
terrace against her leafy nights, and the
broadening River Lee, which, rising in
the mystic depths of weird, wild, Gou-
game Barra, at the edge of Kerry, wan
ders through lovely glens and sunny
wales to where the city and tide meet, and
then blending with the salt water, sweeps
through the most glorious and pictu-
rescue estuary in the world, down past
Queenstown to the sea. But this has been
repeatedly told by word-painters galore
My own secret longing led me first and
last to
The groves of Barney,
That look so charming
Down by the purlings
OF sweet silent BROOKS"
One hardly realizes that he is in Ireland
while among these handsomely -attired
people who, seeking their suburban
homes, throng the cars of the little rail-
way leading from Cork along the sweet
shores of murmuring stream, and for
the short four miles TO Blarney one al
most feels he is again within the atmos-
phere OF the clear-eyed, active, breezy
and prosperous folk one always finds in
American and London suburban rail-
al ha or,l NF ;rtI. Il
way, and at the head of the valley through
which it and the stream have run, in a
tiny, pockety vale whose surface is al
most level on either side to the edges of
noble wooded bluffs, is the tritiing ham,
let of Blarney, and, not stones throw
from the station, the gray old walls of its
world-famous castle rise high above the
rich foliage of the sycamore groves, and
the musical Blarney rivulet below. AL
together it is one of the sweetest and most
restful spots you ever beheld.
Blarney is the original Irish form of
6Ld4Td, means a little field" from bLd3.
field, this name having been given the
place from its location almost in the CEN
ter of the tiny wakefield, which was no
doubt source of rich harvests even un-
der the rude forms of cultivation in vogue
in most ancient times. AS nearly as can
be determined the later popular signitica-
ton of the word-palavering rhodomon-
tade, glib, specious pleading or wheed-
ling eloquence-originated in Lord Clan
carty's often promising, when the pris-
oner of Sir George Carew, to Surrender
his strong castle of Barney" this very
pile, Ito the soldiers of the Queen, and as
often inventing some smooth and paIata-
BILE excuse for eXonerating himself from
his promise" But the place no doubt
became world-famous through the celeb
rity of the verses beginning with the
four lines above quoted, attributed by
adopts in ballad literature both to Father
Prout and Richard Alfred Milliken, the
latter former Cork attorney.
The castle itself was built in the fif-
teenth century by Cormac MacCarthy,
"the Strong" and the old coign-stone, the
kissing of which conveys the magic
power of "blarney," according to popu-
lar legend, at least, is still intact 1t is
said that at one time it bore the inscrip-
ton, "Cormac Mccarthy fortis me tieri
tecitA AID. l446." 1t is preserved and held in
place by two iron girders between huge
merlons of its northern projecting para
pet, nearly an hundred feet from the
ground. The ancient castelIated pile
now consists only of a lofty quadranguIar
keep, with a half-ruined tower, through
which access is gained by winding stone
stairs to the battlemented parapet above.
Beneath the tower and keep are num-
Der of wonderful dungeon cells, the most
truly impressive of these L have found in
any of the castle ruins of Ireland, while
a cave of remarkable formation, but a
few rods from the castle, permitted of
subterranean ingress and egress in an
cient times.
Once having gained the lofty parapet,
you are among massive ivies, while many
shrubs and young trees have shot out
towards the sky from this strange aerie.
Moses and grasses have almost COM
pletely thatched the old ruin, and if you
will wait until the chattering tourists