be ornamental, finished the whole picture, and formed the last beauty and curiosity I shall record of this surpassingly interesting hill. Before I retire from my mountain-(I love to linger on its recollections)—I shall observe, that to allay our thirst, caused by the heat of the day and our exertions, we went, (in order to obtain a glass out of which we might drink of the pure water of the lake,) into the only house that is to be seen on the whole mountain-a wretched hovel, evidently a place where travellers could obtain a supply of that much-loved liquor of the North, poteen whiskey. A young woman of not very prepossessing appearance, but abundantly civil, gave us what we wanted; but while speaking to her, we awoke a man who was sleeping in an inner apartment, and forth came the master of the house, half drunk-a gaunt grisly figure, accoutred with a bay coloured wig, apparently made of cow's hair, and which, but half fitting his head, moved according as he scratched it, from one side to the other, and his natural grey glibs or locks appeared; without shoes or stockings, his mouth begrimed with the tincture of chewed tobacco-altogether a specimen of an old Irish kern. Half in English, half in Irish, he addressed my friend, who returned the salutation by saying, "Oh, how do you do, Briney O'Doherty ?" "But what brings you here, Doctor? there are no tithes to be got on Lough Salt." "Oh, I came to shew my friend here, this mountain, and our pretty lake, and the fine prospect." "And who is your friend?-Och! what need I ax! sure I know from his cut, and his fine spick and span dress, that he is one of the folk that does be coming idling here from Dublin. But what need I care, seeing he's no gauger, which I for sartain know to be the case, as he is in company with your Raverence; for well I know that your honor would not travel one yard with those gauging varmint, that rack poor dacent people. But I'll wager my pipe, that fine gentleman with the black coat-for fine feathers, you know, make fine birds-as is the way with all your Dublin people, likes that poisonous Parliament,* instead of our own sweet poteen; but no matter; what brought your Raverence and your outlandish friend into this poor place of mine? I think I heard you call for something." “O, Briney, we wanted something to get a drink of water in." "Water, water! Why, bless my body, the cold water of Lough Salt would kill you: as for the Dublin man he may go to the Deoul his own way; but for your Raverence, one of ourselves, as I may say,-one who loves to let poor men live,-not one drop of could water shall you drink without having a dash of the crathur in it; so, Molly, fill out a pint. -Don't be talking about paying for it ;sure as it's my own, I can pay for it to-day myself that is if you have not plenty of money in your pocket." -for Seeing that he was in such a state of intoxication, that there was no contradicting him, we let him take his own way, and taking a sup each, and drinking to his health, he soon * Whiskey that is made in a licensed still, and to which the people in Ulster have a great aversion, is called Parliament. finished off the half pint to himself. The man seemed to live on this fiery beverage; his drinking did not seem to increase his intoxication, but it made him more communicative and garrulous. He appeared acquainted with the whole ancient history of the country; it was surprising what a knowledge he had of the old families of the district, and of the changes of property that had occurred in it. He spoke of his own ancestors, the O'Doherty's, told us how they once owned all Innishowen, which the Chichesters cheated and robbed them of; he told us in his own way, how Sir Cahir O'Doherty, surprised the ancestor of the present possessor of Dow Castle, and took Culmore fort from him by stratagem* :-" O, (says he,) it was a nate - * After Sir John O'Doherty's death, Cahir his son pretended great inclinations towards the English, and was made in consequence, a Justice of Peace; he contracted an intimate friendship with the English, and particularly with Captain Hart, Governor of Culmore near Derry. On a certain day Sir Cahir invited Captain Hart to dinner, and he left his Fort, and came with his wife and his little child (to whom Sir Cahir was godfather,) to the Chieftain's feast. After dinner, O'Doherty arose and called Hart aside, and plainly told him that he hated thing, and worthy of Sir Cahir's father's son, to take the Castle of Culmore from that Saxon heretic. I never look down towards Dow Castle, but I bless God and the Virgin that Cahir O'Doherty's blood flows in these withering veins." "But, Briney, how much land have you got here?" "Och, sure the whole mountain-side is mine; and sure I have it still all to myself. My people had it all once; we had cows, and sheep, and goats, and grouse all that flew and all that fed the English, that he must be revenged and he should have Culmore; "quietly surrender it to me, or yourself, your wife, and child shall die," and immediately a band of armed kerns rushed into the room: Hart kept his courage, and Sir Cahir ordered his men to execute him. Just at this moment in rushed Hart's wife and Lady Doherty, and urged by the entreaties of the women, Doherty was dissuaded from the murder. He therefore sent Captain Hart out of the room, well guarded, and then addressing his wife, he said, “ Madam, go instantly off to Culmore with this band of soldiers; get them peaceable entrance into the Fort, or your husband and child will cease to live." The woman, terrified, submitted to the undertaking, she went with the rebels to the castle that night, told the sentry that the Captain, her husband, had broken his leg, and the man without scruple admitted her and her party into the place. The consequence was the murder of the whole garrison. Hart's life was saved, but he was utterly ruined.-See Cox's Hibernia Anglicana, vol. ii. p. 14. |