| On Monday we came here, making a detour to visit the ruins of Quin Abbey. It stands in a
green plain near the clear river. The cloisters
resemble those of Askeaton, and are in as good
preservation; indeed the whole building, except
the roof, is entire. Most of the chimney-pieces remain; and a peasant woman, who came
up to speak to me as I was examining an old
monument, said that her grandmother remembered when it was all perfect. I looked on
these cloisters with great interest, as the place
where the monk who composed those beautiful
lines to Lady O'Brien, was wont to meditate and
pray.<br>While we were in the abbey, the funeral procession of a young girl entered the ruined building, and, as is always the case in Ireland,
several groups dispersed themselves in various
directions, each to weep over the grave of their
own friends. I remarked one girl particularly,
who knelt at a tomb which, from its grass-grown
appearance, seemed to have been there a long
time; she must have been quite young when [p. 186] she lost the friend or relative who reposed in it; but the expression of solemn concern on her
countenance showed how deeply she still revered
the memory of that departed one. The prayer thus offered up at the grave of a long lost friend,
must have a beneficial effect on the character,
and I cannot but feel a respect for a custom so
calculated to do good.
<br>I was struck with the extreme civility and
kindly feeling towards us strangers, of the people who attended this funeral. They seemed
highly flattered at our appearing to admire the
ruins; and one woman regretted, with tears in
her eyes, that the pavement of the cloisters was
so rugged for my “little feet;” she looked as if
she longed to carry me over the rough places,
and watched with the greatest anxiety to see that I did not step on loose stones. When
we talked of ascending the high tower of the
chapel, some of the women seemed frightened
at the idea of a lady’s venturing up broken stairs
and along the top of narrow walls, at that dizzy
height; but when they saw that I was resolved
to proceed, my friend of the cloisters said she
would go up with me, though she had never ventured before. This and other marks of interest [p. 187] and civility, which we met with then, could
not proceed from desire of gain, for none of the
poor people would take money. One tattered old
man to whom we offered a trifle, said, when declining it for himself, that he would be glad if their
honours would give something to the mother of
the poor young girl who lay in the coffin, as
she had in a few weeks lost a husband, a son,
and this daughter, and was left with six young
children to provide for, and another coming.
<br>This young girl, owing to the deaths and
illness in the family, had no relations at the
funeral, yet many tears of genuine sorrow were shed over her grave by this warm-hearted people; and though in this case there could not be the usual attraction of merriment and
good cheer at the cottage of the deceased, the
procession was crowded. And a beautiful and
strange scene it was to see this crowd—the men
in their sober attire, and the women in the
brilliant coloured dresses they wear in this
part of the country, scattered over the green
sward before the venerable ruins of the old
abbey. Not one bonnet was there: all the
women wore either their own dark hair dressed
in the simple Grecian fashion, or the head [p. 188] covered with a sort of white linen veil, or bright
coloured handkerchief, or the hood of the red or blue cloak, which forms an invariable part of
their costume.
<br>At a cottage, in the village of Quin, we were
amused at seeing the following sign over the
door. <br> <br>“Here lives a man who don't refuse<br>To make or mend both boots and shoes;<br>His leather's good, his work is quick,
<br>His profits small—so can't give tick."<br><br>This sign, however, is not so concise and expressive as one I have seen at Limerick, over the
door of an eating-house.<br><br>"Fat and lean
<br>Neat and clean,"
<br><br>told the whole tale of what might be expected within. [Vol. 2, p. 185-188] [Continues on topic of signs]. |
