The Raised Beaches of Inishowen. 283 



pathetic to see the anxious faces of parents and brothers and 

 sisters gathered at each road-end and boreen, hoping for a 

 letter from the loved ones who were seeking their fortune in 

 that far-off land of promise. At Bree I left the road, and 

 struck down to the northern shore. In the bay south of the 

 coast-guard station are raised beaches six and twelve feet 

 above storm-water level (which is about twelve feet above 

 ordinary high tide) ; and behind these, marine gravels cap 

 the rocks thirty to forty feet above the same level. As usual, 

 no shells were to be found in any of these deposits. Among 

 the stones of the present beach the beautiful Oyster-plant or 

 Sea Gromwell spread its blue-grey leaves, its red and blue 

 blossoms still abundant, in spite of the lateness of the season. 



North of the coast-guard station is a flat stretch of peaty 

 land, forty to fifty feet above high tide. A small stream 

 cutting through it shows in its banks a couple of feet of peaty 

 soil overlying twelve feet at least of horizontally-bedded 

 marine gravels. These Inishowen raised beaches are all the 

 same, consisting of coarse much rolled gravel and large 

 pebbles of the various metamorphic and igneous rocks of the 

 district, with a matrix of coarse sharp quartz sand, and no 

 fossils — just like the present beaches. 



On the low-lying ground south-east of the ridge which forms 

 the extremity of the land, and on which the signal-tower stands, 

 there are two well-marked terraces, one behind the other, 

 composed of coarse gravel, and having elevations of I should 

 guess thirty-five to forty, and sixty to seventy feet above high 

 tide ; I had no means of determining the heights with 

 accuracy. The Geological Survey Memoir says that here the 

 25-ft., 50-ft., and 75-ft. raised beaches are well marked ; these 

 elevations are reckoned from Ordnance datum, eight feet below 

 mean sea-level. I had a chat with lyloyds' agent, while the 

 wind shrieked round the signal-tower, and flecks of foam 

 dashed against the window, fully 200 feet above the sea, and 

 then fought my way against the storm down to the rugged 

 quartzite cliffs, the most northerly point of Ireland, and 

 crept down as far as I dared go— about fifty feet above 

 the waves — to watch the fearful sea that was running. 

 At the westerly end of the Head, the cliffs were brightened 

 by patches of Samphire and Rose-root and Scotch I^ovage. 

 The coast trended southward now. At White Strand 



