Killery Bay

The author of this clever book will excuse us for extending our extract to the description of the scenery he noticed on his return from the visit to the Joyces.

"The descent is very rapid from the high grounds, on which Jack Joyce's new farm and public-house are situated, to the Killery Bay, and the inn of Leenane. As you descend, by a very good road, there are noble mountain-views, and the long Killery, stretching its dark and deep-cut line through the mountains, was certainly a fine sight, and very unlike anything I have seen elsewhere in the island; not, perhaps, presenting so grand a prospect as either Bantry Bay or Lough Swilly, but it has features all its own. About either of these fine estuaries there appears something that man has done—man has some share in the decoration or even grandeur of the scene: but here, at the Killery, man and his works are out of the question: no sail upon the waters; no cultivation along the shore; all as rough Nature has left it; even trees seem out of character with the place; and there is the deep bay, and there are the high mountains all around, the same, we may suppose, as when the first sea-rover turned inwards his prow for shelter or curiosity, and sought, and that in vain, for something that marked the occupation and dominion of man.

"Some have said that Killery Bay is like a Norwegian fiord. Never having been in the Scandinavian peninsula, I cannot decidedly contradict; but it certainly does not meet my idea of a fiord, which supposes pine-crowned precipices hanging and frowning over the deep blue wave; but this is not the case here; perfectly bare of any timber, the mountains, though rising all around, and assuming all manner of outlines, yet shelve gradually down to the shore, and I would say, that the character of the place is not sublime but savage."