HISTORY OF CLARE.

CHAPTER I.

Extent Population - Geographical Features - Natural AdvantagesScenery-Soil-Lakes-Minerals-Tuameens, near Tulla-Atlantic Ocean and Shannon-Environment-Moher Cliffs-Submergement at Milltown-Malbay-Kilkee-Bishop's Island-Loop Head-Carrigaholt Castle-Iniscatha-St. Senan's Island - Monasteries-CastlesEnnis and Quin Abbeys-Bunratty-Falls of Doonas-KillaloeKincora Holy Island-Burren-Abbey of Corcomroe-Cell and Legend of St. Colman MacDuagh-Lisdoonvarna.

THE County of Clare has an area of twelve hundred square miles, with about 130,000 inhabitants. Its greatest length from Killaloe to Leap Head-now improperly called Loop Head, as the old Irish name, Ceann Leime, or "Head of the Leap," testifies-is close on sixty Irish miles. Its breadth is very variable, but on an average about twenty Irish miles. It possesses every variety of soil, from the rich alluvial lands along the Shannon, to the barren peaty ranges on the west and north, and the rocky but fertile region of Burren on the north-west. Between its two ranges of hills-the Ogonnelloe, Broadford, and Truagh Hills on the east, and the Feakle, Glendree, and O'Dea Hills towards the north-west and west-lies the extensive undulating plain. which may well be called the heart of Clare. Narrow on the north at Scarriff and Tomgraney, where it abuts ou Lough Derg, and looks over towards Holy Island, it widens out gradually till it rests southwards on the whole extent of the Shannon between Limerick and Kildysart. It is for the most part excellent grazing, meadow, and tillage land, and is beautifully diversified. Lakes, fairly stocked with fish

of various kinds, nestle between the numerous low hills, which are nearly all ornamentally planted. At about its centre, near Tulla, Quin, and Carahen, mines have been worked for lead and silver ore; but whether from lack of capital to work them thoroughly, as I believe, or that the finds have not been sufficiently productive, all effort in that direction has ceased.

Close to one of those abandoned mines, within about two miles of Tulla, on the Molony property at Kiltannon, is one of those freaks of nature which, if found say in England, Scotland, or Wales, would attract crowds of visitors, and mayhap inspire the poet's pen and the painter's pencil, but which is scarcely ever noticed or heard of. It is called "the Tuameens." A small stream coming down from the Glendree Hills has made itself a subterraneous passage for a considerable distance, till it emerges again and pursues its even course towards the Shannon. There are at intervals openings from above, overhung and festooned with honeysuckle and other beautiful undergrowth, through which the buried stream is easily reached. With some little difficulty, if the river be not swollen with late rains, the whole way underground may be traversed. It is with no little feeling of wonder and almost of awe that the eye travels over the dark winding river, having on both sides solid, massive lines of rock, apparently chiselled by the hand of man, but really chiselled by the slow yet ceaseless drip of water from above, and serving as buttresses for the splendid arches of limestone. which bridge the sunken stream. Here, as at the better known Bridges of Ross, near Loop Head, nature looks not unlike art as it comes from the brain and hand of man.

This central plain was to Clare on a small scale what Lombardy was to Italy-the scene of almost perpetual conflict. Were there no written records testifying to this fact, the numerous castles scattered through every parish, still grim and defiant-looking even in their ruins, are only too eloquent on this subject. But it was not all war. The many abbeys and churches yet standing in all parts of Clare, though partly demolished and wholly desecrated, bear testimony to the strong faith and practical piety of its people in

the past. In these pages, as we go along, the story of those old monuments will be told as fully as can be gathered from the most authentic sources.

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Westwards to the Atlantic Ocean the country is very hilly, and for the greater part the land is poor and unproductive, except where patient industry has made it comparatively fruitful. Here the grouse and the snipe and the hare have a wide domain. Owing to the fierce Atlantic breezes, which will not permit, except in sheltered valleys, the growth of trees, the whole district looks bare and unattractive. To the lover of bold scenery-and who does not love it ?-there is ample compensation for this wherever, and that is nearly everywhere, the sea or Shannon comes within view. From Black Head in its northern extremity, towering over Galway Bay, to Loop Head on the south, the broad Atlantic wages incessant war with frowning cliff and jutting headland. It stretches out, huge, vast, illimitable, compelling admiration in all its ever-changing moods; sometimes as placid as a lake, but nearly always tossing and fretting and moaning as if some great trouble stirred its inmost depths. Away to the north-west is the range of the Connemara Mountains,-fitting background for one of nature's finest panoramas,-with the Arran Islands lying nearer, calling to mind the olden days of Erin's Christian glory, when saint and sage fled the busy world for the calm and the silence of their sea-bound recesses. Nearer still are the majestic Moher cliffs, rising sheer up to the height of nearly a thousand feet, straight as an arrow, for miles in length over the heaving ocean; while in sharp contrast with them there stretches away southward the low, broken, rocky coast. outline, called by the Spaniards aptly enough after the Armada disaster, Malbay. Its sunken aspect, between the precipitate Moher and Baltard cliffs on its north and south, dotted with numerous rough islets, strongly corroborates the statement in the Annals of the Four Masters, that, more than a thousand years ago, an earthquake occurred, burying the land then standing there, with over a thousand inhabitants, in the depths of the sea. The reef sometimes visible at very low tides. outside the bay is called by the fishermen "the Monastery," or "St. Stephen's Church;" and some now living will tell you

gravely, and with evident conviction of its truth, arising surely out of their vivid Celtic imagination, that they have seen distinctly down in the clear waters the tower of the church and the roofs of the houses of the engulfed town.

Pursuing our course still southwards, the coast-line all the way to Loop Head stands up again precipitate as a wall, sternly facing the onward rush of the Atlantic. Though not so high as Moher, rarely exceeding three hundred and seldom dipping under one hundred feet,-it presents more variety, well repaying the visitor with pleasing combinations of pillared rock, lonely island, yawning cave, and wave-worn bridge. This frowning line of cliffs is broken at intervals by little bays, round one of which, anciently called Dough, is built the town of Kilkee, one of the most attractive of the many attractive seaside resorts round the coast of Ireland. Near here, lonely "Islaun an Aspuig," or Bishop's Island, stands up in stern grandeur from the sea. Being only a few hundred yards away from the mainland, two stone structures of the beehive kind can be plainly discerned. It is therefore certain that in the days of early Christian fervour, holy men retired here from the busy world to commune alone' with God in the presence of His glorious works. The wearing away, by the ceaseless action of the ocean, of the means of communication with the mainland that must then have existed, has served a good purpose. It has warned off the thoughtless, perhaps sacrilegious, hand from these sacred buildings. Ever since, while looking over on them, the mind must travel back to that far-off age of Christian anchorites and hermits; and many doubtless have asked, and many more will yet ask, themselves the question, Who were the wiser the hermits who struggled there for the inheritance of the saints, or the worldlings whom they left immersed in pursuit of the "goods that perisheth"?

From Kilkee, seventeen miles more of ever-changing cliff— the natural "Bridges of Ross" challenging special attention and admiration—lead to Loop Head, the most remote point of Clare. It is indeed a wild and lonely but truly majestic spot. In some minds it inspires terror; for most it possesses a pleasing fascination. Along the narrow headland, on both sides, are steep precipices frowning over the surging, mys

terious sea-depths below. In the distance, far off over the Atlantic wave, the graceful outlines of the Connaught mountain ranges are clearly within view; while, on the other side, looking by contrast almost within arm's reach, though twenty miles of mingled sea and Shannon away, is the towering, imposing mass of the Brandon Hills. At the end of the headland, upon which a graceful lighthouse is reared, is the chasm that gives it its fanciful name. It is about forty feet across, but three hundred down to the surging mass below. Across it to the little island-Ceann Leime, or in English correctly, the "Head of the Leap"-the Fenian warrior was said to have leaped, bearing his pursued lady - love. Though now trodden only by the wild sea-birds, there are evidences of the hand of man in stonework on its summit, suggesting the less poetic thought that it might have been somehow reached for the purpose of concealing treasure in troubled times. An unsuccessful attempt was made some years ago to bridge the chasm. I fancy that here it was that one of our well-known Irish writers, Richard Dowling, caught the idea of a novel which brought him at a bound into fame, but the scene of which he lays at the better known Bishop's Island, near Kilkee.

Two sections of the cliff on the northern side of the peninsula are deserving of notice. The larger of the two is called the "Hull Rock," owing to its resemblance to the side of a ship. In both the surface is smooth and quite black, and shows, all along down till it is lost in the sea, a curve as regular and graceful as if it were the effect of design. What a poor thing was the famous Tarpeian Rock in ancient Rome compared with this terrific descent!

On the southern side of the peninsula there can be discerned still a few out of what had evidently been a circular group of stone cells, surrounding a narrow enclosure. They are of very curious construction; each one is narrow, low, curving slightly as it enters into the earth, and if ever used as a place of rest, could have been nothing better than the apartment of torture called in England "Little Ease." It is very hard to believe that even early Christian fervour, as archæologists tell us, adopted such a method of seclusion and