Queen’s College, Belfast
When the Scotch “planters” came to the north of Ireland they brought their love of learning and their scholarship with their religion, and Belfast has always been an educational as well as a denominational center, more noted than any other city in Ireland for the excellence of its schools. Queen’s College, founded nearly sixty years ago by Queen Victoria as a state institution, is at the head of the system and will soon be a university. Queen’s is one of the “godless” colleges that we hear so much about in ecclesiastical circles, because there is no chapel, no religious exercises or instruction. But the atmosphere of the institution is thoroughly Presbyterian, and Rev. Dr. Hamilton, the president, who will also be president of the proposed university, is one of the most eminent ministers in that denomination. The buildings of Queen’s College, six hundred feet long, are imposing in appearance and of solid construction, after the Tudor school of architecture, with a central tower and two wings, inclosing quadrangular courts. There is a school of law and a school of medicine, with more than four hundred students, and one of the most important in Ireland.
Just behind Queen’s College is the General Assembly’s Theological Seminary, founded in 1853 to train men for the Presbyterian pulpit. It occupies a massive building of red sandstone that is simple and severe. Across the way from Queen’s is a Methodist college with two hundred and fifty students, the building being after the same general plan as Queen’s. These three institutions are entirely in sympathy and are working together, although they have no legal or official relation.
The City Hall of Belfast is an imposing building, which cost a million and a half of dollars, and is very ornate for its purpose. It stands in the center of a large square, admirably located so that its fine proportions may be admired from all sides. The interior is very ornamental, the walls and stairways being of Carrara marble elaborately carved. On either side are handsome monuments. The building is 300 feet long and 240 feet deep; the façade is of the same design on each of the four sides, and there is a dome 175 feet high. There is a great hall for official ceremonies and public assemblies that will seat a thousand people, and several other state apartments handsomely decorated.
In front of the City Hall is a recent statue of Queen Victoria in marble, and a very good one it is. On another side the late Lord Dufferin is represented in bronze wearing the robes of a Knight of St. Patrick, while Sir Edward J. Harland, founder of the great shipyards at Belfast, is honored in a similar manner. Not far away is the Albert Memorial, a clock tower, 143 feet high, of Gothic design, which was erected to the memory of the Prince Consort in 1870. There are several other statues of local dignitaries in different parts of the city and a soul-stirring memorial to the members of the Royal Irish Rifles who died in the Boer war.
The business architecture of Belfast is unusually fine and in striking contrast to the rest of Ireland, where there has been very little building for a century. Belfast, however, is a distinctively modern city and up-to-date. There are no skyscrapers, and the limit of height seems to be six stories, but there is considerable architectural display; and the shopping streets are entirely modern, with large and attractive show windows.
You hear a great deal about the weather of Ireland, and I have already quoted an old and common joke that it never rains on the 31st of February. People never go out without an umbrella or a mackintosh, because it is always safer to carry them. It rains in the most unexpected way. The clouds gather very suddenly and the predictions of the weather bureau cannot be taken seriously. But the natives don’t seem to mind it. They are so used to getting soaked that it is a matter of no consequence, and over in the shipyards and elsewhere we saw men working on through a pouring rain without taking the slightest notice of it. Women who are compelled to weather the storms frequently line their skirts with rubber cloth or leather so as to keep their underclothing dry, and every man carries his mackintosh over his arm when he leaves home in the morning.
Albert Memorial, Belfast