512 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
December II, 1810. 
and as in August it was just turning yellow, and in some cases 
being pulled, it was conspicuous in all directions. Antrim is one 
of the greatest centres of Flax culture in the United Kingdom. 
In only two other counties in Ireland is a greater acreage appro¬ 
priated by this crop—namely, Down and Tyrone—and though 
there has been a decrease in the culture of Flax for the whole of 
Ireland, Antrim shows the only increase for the past two years, 
about 16,000 acres being now occupied. Comparatively little Flax 
is now grown in England, and it is only in York, Lincoln, Cam¬ 
bridge, Somerset, and Dorset where the total runs into hundreds 
of acres, and in many of these districts it is decreasing. In 
Antrim and the province of Ulster generally it is said to pay a 
fair return upon labour and capital, with due attention to details, 
although it tests the land rather severely. 
Potatoes had a better appearance in this district than in any 
other part of Ireland that I visited, partly, perhaps, because the 
rainfall is less, but principally because a better system of culture 
is adopted, though even here the “lazy bed” method was carried 
out in several places. Still, generally, more space was afforded 
between the rows, and, as I afterwards learned, more care was 
adopted in obtaining and selecting the seed tubers. In some parts 
of Antrim, and especially in the neighbourhood of Coleraine, 
poultry keeping is developing into an important industry, something 
on the plan adopted in France. Numbers of cottagers are now 
engaged in this, and the eggs are bought by agents of firms in 
Scotland and shipped direct to Glasgow. I met one worthy 
Glasgow merchant travelling with his wife and daughters, who 
assured me that the greater part of his business was transacted in 
this way, and that some thousands of pounds were directed to a 
comparatively small district in the north c f Ireland every 3 ear for 
eggs and fowls. 
The culture of small fruits for jam is also being tried in several 
places, Gooseberries especially being found to succeed, and where 
the fruit can be supplied direct to the jam manufacturers, of which 
there are several in Belfast, the return pays fairly well ; but the 
disposal of fresh fruit is said to be difficult, and the carriage is 
rather costly. There can be no question about the Gooseberries 
succeeding, for examples were seen in many different gardens and 
situations, some exceedingly exposed, but in all they were alike 
satisfactory in health and productiveness. Respecting the orchards, 
or what were once worthy of that name, something will be said 
later on.' 
The Giant’s Causeway. 
At Coleraine, one of the chief whisky centres, it is necessary 
to change for Portrush and the Giant’s Causeway, and perhaps it 
will be a pardonable offence if I change the subject of these notes 
for a short time to give a brief description of a wonderful natural 
phenomenon a little outside gardening matters. A horticulturist’s 
education is not complete without some knowledge of geology, and 
on many a winter’s night in past years with fellow students and 
workers have I journeyed to London to attend lectures on that 
peculiarly fascinating science. Scores of others have similarly paid 
attention to the subject, therefore I know there are many to whom 
a little reminder of their geological studies will not be unwelcome, 
particularly as that to be introduced is familiar, by name at least, 
to all. 
From Coleraine it is a short run by train to Portrush, and 
from thence an “ Electric Tramway ” is advertised to convey the 
traveller five or six miles by road to the Giant’s Causeway. This 
electric tramway has recently been written about as much as the 
Causeway itself. The guide books refer to it in glowing terms as a 
wonder of the age. It is widely advertised in the time tables and 
newspapers all over Ireland. It was, therefore, with some dis¬ 
appointment that on the occasion of my visit an unromantic steam 
tram had temporarily taken its place, which lumbered along the 
road in a shaky and cumbrous fashion, affording a distressing 
discord with the surroundings, and altogether too suggestive of the 
steam rollers of our great cities to be agreeable. I did have the 
satisfaction of being returned to Portrush after my visit by means 
of the electric power, but even then some of the gearing gave way, 
causing a stoppage on the road. But on the outward journey 
defects of conveyances were soon forgotten in viewing the delight¬ 
ful prospect afforded as the road began to ascend the cliffs. The 
day was a grand one, the sky and sea were brilliantly blue, such as 
we see represented in Italian landscapes, or as Miss North depicted 
in so many of her tropical views, and it was difficult to imagine 
that we were really in the land of bogs and fogs, and not on the 
shores of the Mediterranean. Far away in the distance was the 
Scottish coast and the Heather-clad mountains. Presently we 
looked down upon the town of Portrush nestling in its snug little 
bay, and then the road wound along the edge of a precipitous 
cliff at a great elevation, with the sea rushing below into scores of 
wonderful caverns and strange rocky recesses, arched or perforated 
by the action of the waves during long periods of time. A writer 
has described the Irish scenery as like the Irish melodies, “ Sweet, 
wild, and almost sad,” and this is true of some districts and under 
some conditions, but it does not apply to the view from this 
romantic cliff road on such a day as that when I was there, but it 
could be imagined how different it would appear on a stormy day 
in winter. Even the remarkable ruins of Dunluce Castle, perched 
on the verge of the cliff like a portion of the rock itself, had quite 
a cheerful aspect in the blight sun, and though all the wildness was 
there the sadness was undoubtedly absent. 
The road now left the cliff, and turning inland rapidly descended' 
until Bushmills (another whisky producing town) was reached, and 
the view became of quite an ordinary character. There was 
nothing to indicate the proximity of any natural wonder, and when 
the tramcar stopped in the yard of the Causeway Hotel it seemed 
as if all the picturesque scenery had been left behind. The cliffs- 
looked from the land side more like our rounded chalk downs in 
Sussex and Kent, and the Giant’s Causeway did not reveal its pre¬ 
sence by anything of a startling character. Visitors are soon sur¬ 
rounded by guides very much in the way described by Thackeray,, 
but now there are two rival hotels instead of one, and the contest 
for every passenger that arrives would be amusing in the extreme 
were it not bewildering to the unfortunate stranger who has gained 
no previous knowledge of the respective establishments. Having 
selected a guide, however, who proved an exceedingly well-informed!' 
man, and quite a geological authority, his only defect being an 
excess of energy and almost superhuman strength, combined with 
an evident desire to accomplish his task with the greatest possible 
speed. The result of this was that the individuals who committed 
themselves to his charge were led, or rather dragged, over rocks 
along the face of the cliffs into a wild bay, bundled unceremoni¬ 
ously over slippery ledges, and into dark and fearsome caves and 
caverns, until he was almost entreated to pause. Still the Cause¬ 
way had not been seen, this was only the prelude ; another ascent 
was made to the neighbourhood of the hotels, and then a winding 
path gradually descending along the face of the cliff towards the 
shore was taken, and in about ten minutes our guide said, “ There,, 
that is the Causeway,” pointing to a low and rocky portion of the 
coast in the distance. Then it began to dawn upon us that all the 
writers and guide-book compilers, even our geological friends, must 
have been in league to create a deceptive sensation, for anything 
of a more ordinary character when first seen could not be imagined.. 
A nearer acquaintance with the phenomenon, how T ever, soon reveals 
its remarkable character, and the visitor feels amply repaid for 
his journey. To describe the effect adequately is impossible, but 
to give an idea of it has been attempted. “ It looks,” said 
Thackeray in his “Irish Sketch Book,” “like the beginning of 
the world somehow ; the sea looks older than in other places,, 
the hills and rocks strange, and formed differently from other 
rocks and hills—as those vast dubious monsters were formed who 
possessed the earth before man. The hill-tops are shattered into 
a thousand cragged fantastical shapes ; the water comes swelling 
into scores of little strange creeks, or goes off with a leap, roaring 
into those mysterious caves yonder, which penetrate who knows 
how far into our common world. The savage rocksides are painted 
of a hundred colours. Does the sun ever shine here ? When the- 
world was moulded and fashioned out of formless chaos, this must 
have been the bit over, a remnant of chaos.” Of course everyone 
knows that the Giant’s Causeway is composed of basalt, the produce 
of extinct volcanoes long prior to the age of man, and judging by 
the effects there were, indeed, troublous times in Ireland in those- 
days. This basalt, poured out in a liquid form, cooled gradually, 
and crystallised, as it were, into a wonderful series of polygonal 
columns, of which it is said there are over 40,000, extending from 
the cliffs to the sea, there dipping down and passing, some suppose, 
to Staffa and Fingal’s Cave in the Hebrides, where a similar struc¬ 
ture is reproduced. The regular form of these columns, which 
vary in height from a few inches to 20 feet or more, is very 
striking. The pentagons and hexagons predominate, but some of 
other shapes are pointed out, and one amongst the 40,000 is trian¬ 
gular. They are also in nearly equal segments, the ends being 
concave and convex, so that they fit like an elaborate piece of 
masonry. For a good portion of the space they form an irregular 
kind of floor, but in other parts they are piled up to a considerable 
height, assuming numberless forms, which in many cases have 
received fanciful names. Altogether, the Causeway may be taken 
as one of those natural peculiarities that must arrest the attention 
even o£ the thoughtless, and it is a place in which a student could 
wander and meditate for days. 
There is not, however, much “gardening ” in this disquisition,, 
but something has to be yet related, for a garden was found on 
the top of a cliff, fully exposed to the north, within reach of the 
sea spray, and yet where fruit, vegetables, and flowers were culti¬ 
vated with as much success as in many more favourable situations. 
