Domestic Notices : — Ireland. 475 



tilating both to private and public buildings. I have seen the first part of 

 your Cottage Architecture here on one or two tables. Were this country 

 in a state for building cottages, I am persuaded it would do much good, by 

 teaching the masons and carpenters this part of their business; for, as to 

 architects, no Irish gentleman would ever think of employing one, unless 

 he were going to build a mansion, and then he is sure to send for an 

 Englishman. You shall hear from me again from Belfast. In the mean 

 time, I am, <&c. &c. — R. S. Dublin, June 1. 1832. 



The Garden of the Bishop of Cloi/ne. — " You ask me to explain, at length, 

 the particulars of my situation at Cloyne. This place, which is a dirty 

 Irish village, lies in a valley that seems evidently to have been formed, in 

 some distant age, by the waters of Cork harbour in their way to the sea ; 

 a branch of that harbour still reaching a considerable way up the S. W. 

 part of it, and the Bay of Ballicotton encroaching on it towards the N. E. 

 On every other part extends a chain of hills well cultivated, but without 

 trees. In the middle of the valley, about three miles from the harbour, and 

 as much from the sea, rises a small insulated hill, or rather hillock, on 

 which lie the village, church, and house ; and as this spot has a few toler- 

 able trees about it, and is ornamented by a fine round tower, I do not 

 wonder that an Irishman coming from Dublin through a naked country, for 

 a hundred and fifty miles, should think it a beautiful spot ; or that an Eng- 

 lishman landing in Cork harbour, anfl comparing it with his own rich and 

 well-cultivated valleys, should wonder at Berkeley's liking it. The church 

 is large, but not handsome, with one bell only, a very good organ, and its 

 proper appurtenances of vicars choral and singing boys. The episcopal 

 house is at the east end of the village, a large irregular building, having been 

 altered and improved by different bishops, but altogether a comfortable 

 and handsome residence : the side next the village has a very close screen 

 of shrubs and trees, and the three other sides look to a large garden, and a 

 farm of four hundred acres. This farm constitutes what is called the glebe 

 lands, is generally close to the palace, and was intended for the corn and 

 cattle consumed at the bishop's table. The bishop is therefore not al- 

 lowed, by act of parliament, to lease it out, but may let any part of it 

 from year to year. I keep about fifty acres, enough to supply my stable 

 with hay, and my dairy with milk, in my own hands ; and these fifty acres 

 compose three fields immediately contiguous to the house. The garden is 

 large, four acres, consisting of four quarters, full of fruits, particularly straw- 

 berries and raspberries (which it v.'as soon found his lordship had a predi- 

 lection for), and is separated, as well as surroundetl, by shrubberies, which 

 contain some pretty winding walks, and one large one of nearly a quarter 

 of a mile long, adorned for great part of its length, by « hedge of myrtles 

 6 ft. high, planted by Berkeley's own hand, and which had each of them a 

 large ball of tar put to their roots : the evidence of this fact is beyond contra- 

 diction. At the end of the garden is what we call the Kock Shrubbery, a 

 walk leading under young trees, among sequestered crags of limestone, 

 which hang many feet above our heads, and ending at the mouth of a cave 

 of unknown length and depth, branching to a great distance under the 

 earth, sanctified by a thousand wild traditions, and which, I have no doubt, 

 sheltered the first wild inhabitants of the town in its gloomy windings ; and 

 gave rise at last to the town itself, cluain being the Irish name for a cave 

 or place of retirement. Caves were, you know, till lately, places of retreat 

 in the Scotch Islands, to which the natives fled in the time of invasion ; 

 they were the fortresses of the first savages, and gave birth naturally 

 to towns in their neighbourhoods, as the Iloman camps and Saxon 

 castles did in England at a later period. I have enclosed this place, which 

 is a favourite spot of mine, with a low wall, enlarged its limits, and planted 

 it with shrubs which grow in this southern part of Ireland (where frost is 

 unknown) to a luxuriance of which the tall myrtles I have mentioned may 



