Identifier: onirishjauntingc00bayn (find matches)
Title: On an Irish jaunting-car through Donegal and Connemara
Year: 1902 (1900s)
Authors: Bayne, Samuel G. (Samuel Gamble), 1844-1924
Subjects:
Publisher: New York, London, Harper
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
ON AN IRISH JAUNTING-CAR
for a distance of some nine miles. The
mountain scenery on the north of the
fiord is incomparably the finest, the enor
mous walls of Mweelrea, the "Giant of the
West" and Bengorm rising abruptly to
the height of two thousand six hundred
and eighty-eight feet and two thousand
three hundred and three feet, while the ex-
cessive stillness of the land-locked water,
in which the shadows of the hills are
clearly reflected, makes it difficult for one to
believe that it is the actual ocean which he
beholds.
That night, after a drive of twelve miles,
we reached Casson's Hotel in Letterfrack,
where we asked for a fire in the dining-
room, as it was cold when we arrived.
The maid brought a burning scuttle of
peat, the smoke from which did not sub-
side during the entire dinner, but it looked
comfortable, to see each other through it,
reminding us of cheerful fires and warm
nooks at home; the comparison could
go no farther, however. We asked the
maid for a wine-list, in order that we might
try to overcome the effect of the smoke,
and she responded, with great naïvete,
that she had no wine-list, but would bring
us a sample from every bin in the cellar.
74
Text Appearing After Image:



KYLEMORE CASTLE AND PRIVATE CHAPEL COUNTY GALWAY


LEENANE TO RECESS

In a few minutes, sure enough, she bounced
into the room with her arms full of hot-
ties, saying: "Take yer ch'ice, gin tie-
men; theres nothin' foiner in all Con-
nemara!' We took her at her word; she
had not deceived us—the bottle we selected
was a good claret.
Next morning the landlady furnished
us with the best animal we had on the
trip. She was a stout, bay mare, and when
her spirits had rallied after leaving a
young colt of hers behind, she reeled off
the miles like a machine. Our object in
visiting this part of the country was to
see Mitchell Henry's famous castle, Kyle-
more, and the Twelve Pins, about which
we had been hearing all our lives without
ever having had an opportunity to visit
them until now.
Mr. Henry was a linen merchant, with
houses in Belfast and Manchester; he
made a fortune, purchased fourteen thou-
sand acres of land in Connemara to give
himself a political foothold, and in con-
sequence became M. P. for Galway, which
position he retained for six years. About
forty years ago he began the construc-
tion of Kylemore, selecting as a site
a valley between very high mountains,

75

Note About Images