|Source:||The Scenery and Antiquities of Ireland | c. 1841 | J. Stirling Coyne & N. P. Willis|
|Section:||Volume I, Chapter IV|
ONCE more a sojourner in "the beautiful city," I availed myself of the invitation of an intelligent friend to spend a few days with him at his house, situated near the ancient town of Cloyne, and to visit the eastern shores of the harbour. The road from Cork to my destination lay for some distance through the valley of Glanmire, which forms part of the environs of the city. This delightful vicinity is finely wooded, and thickly dotted with handsome villas and mansions; but as I shall have occasion to notice its beauties when describing the harbour and river on my return, I shall only observe, in passing, that the mansion and demesne of Dunkittle are charmingly situated near the mouth of the little creek, where the Glanmire rivulet unites its waters with those of the Lee. Mr. Townsend, who many years ago wrote a description of Cork, says, that "all the situations of the Lee are fine, but none of them enjoy so extensive a combination of beauties as Dunkittle."
Keeping the Little Island on the right, I passed the pretty hamlet of Little Glanmire, and several handsome residences of the gentry, until I reached the island of Foaty, which is almost entirely occupied by the mansion and demesne of John Smyth Barry, Esq. The situation of Foaty is flat and unintersting; but the labours of art, guided by excellent taste in planting and laying out the grounds, have rendered it a very beautiful residence. A handsome tower, which has been erected by the water-side, commands a fine view of the river and the scenery of the opposite shores.
|Next:||Subterranean Chambers at Carrigtohill|
|Previous:||The Irish Love of Dancing and the Approach to Cork|
|Contents:||The Scenery and Antiquities of Ireland|
From a sad, comfortless childhood Giles Truelove developed into a reclusive and uncommunicative man whose sole passion was books. For so long they were the only meaning to his existence. But when fate eventually intervened to have the outside world intrude upon his life, he began to discover emotions that he never knew he had.
A touching story for the genuine booklover, written by an Irish bookseller under the pseudonym of Ralph St John Featherstonehaugh.
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