| At the end of this narrow channel, on turning Battery Point sharply to the left, we enter into what is properly called the Harbour; and here, the character of the scene changes, though without losing its beauty, into something more than beautiful. The harbour, into which we run, is a fine expanse of water, resembling a great lake, with two fortified islands on the right; and the town of Cove, rising amphitheatrically on its steep hill, on the left. Only a very few vessels were in the space between; but, before my mind's eye, there swam one of the vast fleets which rendezvous here in time of war, and touched the majestic repose of the scene with sublimity. This noble harbour has a convenient entrance from the sea; but is, in other // respects, completely shut in by the land. I cannot conceive a place better fitted for the rendezvous of the ships of a great and warlike nation — "Whose march is o'er the mountain wave; / Whose home is on the deep." I landed at the little town of Cove, which rises in irregular terraces, on the side of a steep hill. From a fishing village it grew into importance, owing to the advantages of its situation; and, had the war continued, it might by this time have been a great town. It is clean, however, looks to the south, and enjoys the reputation of a mild and salubrious climate, equal, if not superior, to that of some more celebrated places in the south of Europe. Let not the invalid, however, whose constitution or complaint requires a dry atmosphere, be tempted to settle in Ireland. There are, no doubt, some quarters better in this respect than others; but all, in my opinion, are moist to a degree injurious to the health of those who have not been inured to the climate from then- birth. I can speak of this from personal experience in the north of Ireland. The engraving contains a view of Cove from the opposite side to that by which I approached it. The street rising up to the right leads to the church; and in that direction I took my way, in order to have a stroll through the island before // returning to Cork. The beauty of this island, however, is all external. The interior is singularly uninteresting; and, after a long walk, I found my self at the ferry opposite Passage. [pp. 188-190] |
