were our's. But now the man that calls it his estate may drive poor Briney for the rent of his cabin, and for the grass of his poor ould cow. But God is good,-the times may mend, and who knows but Briney, or Briney's son, may have his own again.

We at length got tired of this specimen of an old Irish clansman, and returned home, fatigued and hungry after our mountain ex

cursion.

macrenan.

On the following day we proceeded over a wild moorland and once wooded tract of se condary mountains to see the Rock of Doune, or as it was originally called the Rock of KilOn the summit of which, from the earliest Milesian times, the chieftains of Tyrconnel were inaugurated with savage solemnities by the Abbots of Kilmacrenan, successors of Columbkill. The rock rises a peculiar natural fortress, in the midst of one of the most inaccessible districts, I have ever crossed. It somewhat resembles the rock of Dunamese in the Queen's county—and might, if defended by resolute men, defy any force

unaided by cannon-and a difficult matter indeed, would it be to bring cannon to bear on it. This was a most appropriate fortress for a mountain chief; and if the place of his installation was befitting his wild and savage rule, (according to Giraldus Cambrensis) the ceremony of his inauguration was still more rude and bestial. He says "that the people of Tyrconnel, a country in the north of Ulster, created their king after this manner-all being assembled on a hill, a white beast was brought before them, unto which he who was chosen as king approaching, declared himself publicly before the people to be just such another, (that is a mere beast); whereupon the cow was cut in pieces, boiled in water, and a bath prepared for the new king of the broth: into which he entered publicly, and at once bathed and fed-all the people meanwhile standing round, fed on the flesh and supped up the broth; at this comely feast and ceremony, it was not proper that the king should use any cup or vessel, nay, not so much as the hollow of his hand; but stoop

ing down his mouth, he lapped like a beast on all sides of the bath of broth in which he was immersed. Having thus washed and supped until he was weary; the whole ceremony of his inauguration was ended, and he was completely instituted in his king-ship of Tyrconnel.'

The Irish historians are very angry with Girald Barry, for telling this story of their kings-and Gratianus Lucius* describes the ceremony as quite otherwise. He says, that when the investiture took place at Cil mhac Creunain, he was attended by O'Ferghail, successor to Columbkill and O'Gallachuir, his marshall—and surrounded by all the estates of the country. The Abbot O'Ferghail, put a pure, white, strait, unknotted rod in his hand, and said, “receive, Sire, the auspicious ensign of your dignity, and remember to imitate in your government, the whiteness, straitness, and unknottiness of this rod; to the end that no evil tongue may find cause to asperse the candour of your actions with

* Archdeacon Lynch.

blackness, nor any kind of corruption or tie of friendship be able to pervert your justicetherefore, in a lucky hour, take the government of this people, to exercise the power given you with freedom and security."

This, to be sure, is quite a different storyand it is not for me to decide, which is true; but this must be said, that the English in all their communications and treaties with the O'Donnels, found them as Sir Henry Dockwra described" Proud, valiant, miserable, tyrannous, unmeasurably covetous, without any knowledge of God, without any civility towards man"-and James I. in a declaration, which he published, Nov. 4th 1607, says, "that their condition was to think murder no fault-marriage of no use, nor any man valiant that does not glory in rapine and oppression." If James spoke truth, it were not out of keeping in such savages to swill the cow broth in which they bathed.

This rock was also famous in the reign of James I. as the spot whereon the arch traitor, Sir Cahir O'Dogherty, closed his life. Sir Cahir, as I before said, had surprised Cul

more, taken Derry, murdered Sir George Pawlet, and the whole garrison, and burnt the town to ashes-he was the last hope of the Pope and the Spaniards. This rebellion was designed to be the most general that ever arose in Ireland, and Sir Cahir keeping the Lord Deputy at bay in this impracticable country; his retreat was the Rock of Kilmacrenan—and here he lurked in secret until the succours that were promised, and were (as O'Sullivan says) actually coming from all sides, arrived.

The plantation of Ulster had not as yet taken place; but already many Scots had settled themselves along the rich alluvial lands that border the Loughs Foyle and Swilly; and it was Sir Cahir's most desired end and aim to extirpate these intruders, hateful as strangers, detestable as heretics. He was the Scotsman's curse and scourge. One of these industrious Scots had settled in the valley of the Lennon; Rory O'Donnel, the Queen's Earl of Tyrconnel, had given him part of that fertile valley-and he there