Salmon Leap at Leixlip

J. Stirling Coyne & N. P. Willis
c. 1841
Volume I, Chapter V-12 | Start of chapter

The little town of Leixlip is delightfully situated near the banks of the Liffey, in a richly diversified country. From the bridge the view is beautiful beyond description; on either hand the river is seen foaming and fretting over its rugged bed, until it is lost between its picturesque banks, while on a commanding eminence the old castle of Leixlip lifts its embattled towers above the thick oak woods that surround it. At a short distance above the town is that romantic spot called THE SALMON LEAP, where the river, tumbling over a succession of rocky ledges, forms a beautiful cascade; the precipitous banks are thickly covered with wood, and the whole scene, though not on so extensive a scale as many of the celebrated falls in Scotland or Switzerland, is excelled by few in natural beauty. Indeed, but for the barbarous intrusion of a modern, business-like, stone-built, and slated mill, which has been erected close to the falls by some plodding trader, it would be difficult to find a place in which so many picturesque beauties are combined. The Salmon Leap is a favourite place for picnic parties of the citizens of Dublin, who make excursions to it in the summer months—dining on the grassy shore, or on the broad, tabular rocks, which in the dry season are left bare by the fallen waters, and afford convenient platforms for the accommodation of the gay groups assembled there, who,

"Forth from the crowded city's dust and noise,

Wander abroad to taste pure Nature's joys;

To laugh and sport, and spend the live-long day,

In harmless merriment and jocund play."

Salmon Leap at Leixlip

Salmon Leap at Leixlip