VALENCIA ISLAND
May truly be termed the "Next parish to America," and should be visited for its noble cliffs, wild headlands, and wonderful jungle of fuschia trees. From Valencia Harbour a ferry, manned for upwards of a century by the O'Neills, brings passengers and mails across to Knightstown, the principal village, and a busy port of industry during the fishing season. Glenleam, the Knight of Kerry's residence—about one mile inland—is surrounded by beautiful gardens, where, besides arbutus and myrtle, many tropical exotics thrive. The fuschias form a thick glade, and the trunks of several of them almost defy the ordinary axe or saw. There are on the island, besides holy wells, a number of soutterains and cairns, that
"Sit upon the ground
To tell sad stories of the death of kings."
Photo—Lawrence, Dublin.
At Valencia.
Photo—Cuthbert, Valencia.
Valencia Harbour.—Fishing Fleet.—Entrance to Valencia Harbour.
Photo—Lawrence, Dublin.
Cliffs at Valencia.
Irish is freely spoken on the island, and if properly introduced, the visitor may be able to hear many old stories of Finn and his companions, the Gabawn Saior, and other heroes of the peasants' heart. Thick as mists at morn legends hover about the island, and beyond the great Slate quarries may be seen many caves of great interest. There is a tradition on the island that St. Vincent Ferrar landed there. The harbour offers a deep and sheltered anchorage, and was formerly much frequented by smugglers, whose cave is still shown. Paul Jones often put in here, and on one occasion pressed into his service a number of fishermen, whom he took from the neighbouring fishing grounds. None of them returned except one, who had long been imprisoned in France, but he came home "with a stocking full of doubloons," and his children's children are still known as "The Paul Jones's."
At Brayhead,
"Where the broad ocean leans against the land,"
there is a splendid view from nearly eight hundred feet above the sea. The rocks around the coast, encircled with white foam, make a beautiful contrast to the grey and emerald and gold of the sandy coves and green hills.
Photo—Lawrence, Dublin.
Cliffs at Valencia.
Dolus and Bolus Heads reach far into the ocean. The Skelligs, "the most western of Christ's fortresses in the ancient world," raise their heads to the south, while northwards the Great Blasket, a mountainous island, and its eleven brothers, with Innisvic Killane, may be seen. On the 10th September, 1588, the Armada ship, Our Lady of the Rosary, of 1,000 tons, was wrecked in the Blasket Sound; among the many who perished was the Prince of Askule, natural son to King Philip of Spain. Around the coast line there have been many wrecks, and not a few are the pathetic stories still told of them on the island.
The last wreck of importance gave another opportunity for the intrepid islanders to show what stern stuff they were made of. Under the captaincy of Mr. Alexander O'Driscoll, the volunteers put off to the wreck, and despite of a sea running high, and the buffeting of a great storm, saved the lives of the crew, and rendered full salvage. While on the island, a visit should be paid to the Anglo-American Cable Company's Station, care being taken beforehand to go through the formality of applying to the Managing Director (26, Old Bond-street, London, E.C.) for an order. Every facility is extended by the courteous local officials.