CHAPTER XVII. Darrynane-Scenery-The House-The Hunting-The Collegians-O'Connell's Description of his Home-Two Things at a Time-Arboriculture. NEXT day we arrived at Darrynane. The dwelling-house is situated within a few hundred yards of a little bay, which is separated from the harbour of Ballinskelligs, by a rocky promontory, called the Abbey Island. This promontory is sometimes insulated in particularly high tides. It contains the ruins of an ancient abbey, amongst which are the graves of many of the O'Connell family. Much of the adjacent coast appears to have been upheaved in some desperate agony of nature. It consists of patches of unprofitable boggy surface, alternating with débris of naked rock. But there are some grand and romantic scenes among the hills and on the cliffs. The house is sheltered to the north and west, by mountains ranging from 1500 to 2000 feet in height. On the east, the view is bounded by a chain of high rocks, that divide the bay of Darrynane from that of Kenmare. Close to the house is a thriving plantation called the shrubbery, covering some ten or twelve acres of a most rocky and irregular tract, through the irregularities of which there are many very pretty winding walks. In the midst of this shrubbery, perched high aloft upon an ivied rock, is a small circular turret, commanding over the tops of the young trees, a view of the ocean and of the neighbouring hills. To this turret, Mr. O'Connell frequently retired to cogitate in solitude over his future political movements. He had also a favourite walk in the garden, which is picturesquely situated amongst rocks, and contains some of the finest old hollies I have ever seen. Darrynane house possesses tolerable accommodation, although it often proved scarcely sufficient for the numbers attracted by the hospitable habits and political celebrity of the owner. It was built at different periods, and without the slightest regard to any uniform plan of architecture; a room was added whenever there arose a demand for increased accommodation; so that the whole mass presents a curious cluster of small buildings of different dates, heights, and sizes. In the dining-room are por traits of Mr. O'Connell, his lady, and his children: the portrait of the Liberator, although an indifferent painting, is, I understand, the very best likeness ever taken of him. Up to the year 1839, when the new road from Cahirciveen was completed, the approach from that town to Darrynane was for three or four miles almost impassable for carriages, from its precipitous Men were employed to draw carriages with ropes along the old road. The new line was opened to the public in autumn, 1839; it commands from many points superb views of the sea and the mountains. nature. On the third or fourth morning after my arrival at Darrynane, I was summoned by Mr. O'Connell to accompany the hunting party. It was not quite six o'clock-the morning was clear and bright, and gave promise of a beautiful day. We followed a winding path called "The Meadow Walk," which crosses and recrosses a merry mountain brook; we ascended the hill of Coomakista, crossed the line of the new road, and ere half-an-hour had elapsed, a hare was started. It was a glorious run; the hare was in view for half a mile or more; and as the dogs ran the scent, they kept so close together, that a sheet might have covered the pack. O'Connell, who enjoyed the hunt with infinite glee walked and ran from rock to rock, to keep the dogs in view. The mountain air had already sharpened my appetite, and I inquired rather anxiously when we should have breakfast. "Not until we kill two hares," replied O'Connell, 86 we must earn our breakfast." He then engaged in busy speculations on the course of the hare-she had doubled, and thrown out the dogsthe pack were at fault-they had scattered, and were trying in different directions to recover the scent. Ah! Drummer hit the scent again, and now they were all once more in full pursuit. It was a glorious scene. Overhead was a cloudless sky; around us, on every side, was the most magnificent scenery, lighted up with brilliant sunshine. There was that finest of all music, the loud, full cry of the beagles, returned by a thousand echoes; the shouts of men and boys ringing sharp and cheerily along the hills; and there was Daniel O'Connell himself, equaling in agility men not half his age, pouring forth an exhaustless stream of jest and anecdote, and entering with joyous zeal into the fullest spirit of the noble sport. Two hares were killed within a hour and a half; and we then sat down to breakfast in a small sheltered nook. It was a green hollow in the hill-side, about 900 feet above the level of the sea. ImmeVOL. I. M diately over us projected a gray rock, which formed a sort of rude ceiling to the inner part of our moun tain parlour. Breakfast in such a spot, and with such appetites, was truly a luxurious feast. A fragment of rock was our table; some of the party sat on stones, whilst others reclined in primitive fashion on the grass. The huntsmen, in their gay red jackets, and several of the peasantry, formed an irregular line upon the outskirts. The noble dogs sat around with an air of quiet dignity, that seemed indicative of conscious merit. Far beneath us was the Atlantic, sparkling in the morning sun; to the right were the mountain isles of Scarriff and the bold rocks of Skellig. "Those Skelligs," said an imaginative English visitor, "are like two huge cathedrals rising out of the sea." The outline of the larger Skellig, as seen from Coomakista mountain, in some measure justifies the comparison. Our telescopes enabled us to discern a few large sail in the extreme offing; but with the exception of some fishing-boats, there were not any vessels in the Bay of Ballinskellig. The Liberator amused himself at the expense of such of the party as had been deficient in agility; and quizzed one or two Londoners, whose previous knowledge of country scenery had been almost solely drawn from the Beulah Spa, the parks, or |