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Updated: May 25, 2025
God bless, and prosper, and multiply the fisher folk. In from the sea, through the pleasant land, we drove a little farther into the solemn woods that surround Dunany Castle. As we neared the castle the woods became broken into a lawn and pleasure ground, and at a sudden turn we found ourselves before the castle.
Bellingham drove me over to Dunany Castle, where Sir Allan Bellingham resides at present. The road lay through the usual beautiful country that spreads along this east coast, plantations of fine trees, large fields of grain, great meadows and bean fields that perfumed the air.
My errand to Dunany Castle was, strictly speaking, to gather the opinions of these gentlemen on the land question, but the quaint, foreign look of the castle, and the historic names of Butler and Bellingham, sent my mind off into the past, to the battle of the Boyne, and into the dimness beyond, when the war cry of "A Butler" was a rallying cry that had power in the green vales of Erin.
I am not yet tired of looking at castles, whether in ruins, as relics of the past, or inhabited as the "stately houses where the wealthy people dwell." Dunany, with its court-yard, where wines, climbing roses and Virginia creepers grew luxuriantly over the battlemented walls, reminded me of descriptions I had read of Moorish houses in sunny Spain.
His opinions, formed from his standpoint, are worthy of consideration. With a lingering look at bonnie Dunany, we bade adieu to Lady Butler and the two baronets, and were driven back to South Gate over another and more inland road. For good and sufficient reasons the railway carriage whisked through the rich country, carrying me from Castle Bellingham to Rath Cottage by the Moat of Dunfane.
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