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362 IIIELASD.
dark woods of Cratloe in the distance summon to memory legends of banded
outlaws, who sheltered there during years of turbulent foray on the one hand,
and melancholy mismanagement or oppression on the other.
I It was a soft balmy day, in the full sunshine of summer, when we called at
the care-takcr’s cottage, snugly sheltered by some tall trees, by the side of :1
private road that leads to the castle. lVe found Collins an agreeable, good-
tempered, and, what wasmore to the purpose, talkative fellow, with a most
communicative expression of countenance; and certainly we never Jistened to
romantic legends with greater pleasure than we did to his, beneath these broken
walls. At first he seemed to fear we might laugh at him; but when he saw
that we were really interested, his cheek flushed, his eye brightened, and he
passed from St. Patrick to the fairies, from the fairies to the spirits-touching
upon every exciting theme, except “ lVhiteboyism,” which, after a little time,
he told us frankly, “he would rather not discoorse about."
lVe paced up the richly-wooded ascent, and at last arrived where the
prospectwas most glorious. It looked, as our guide said, borrowing uncon-
sciously a phrase attributed to William the Third, “ a country worth fighting
for.” East, south, north, west, the scene was indeed magnificent. Limerick
county, and this portion of it more especially, is famous for the richness and
fertility of its soil. “It has a fine command of country, surely,” said Collins;
“and a candle lit here now would be seen as far as Bcanzonls.‘-"" Lord save 1183
every miracle St. Pathrick did had the ‘humanitcs’ in it-not done out of
g"‘“‘d0“"7 01' 3- l0V0 of power. Now, putting out the candle, sure t7zat was 3
blessed act. You see, any one who caught a glimpse of the candle between
sunset and sunrise (and what other time would a candle be‘ seen ?)-’i1“.Y one
-who caught a blink of it would be a corpse before morning; and Saint
Pathrick, having something else to think of besides such things, was bexiiglltcd’
and knocked at an old woman’s door near Cratloe. ‘Let a poor traveller inf
says the Saint ‘I’d let you in, and kindly welcome,’ answered the women;
‘only through the dread of Beamon’s candle-life is as sweet to me at three-
score and seven, as it was at fifteen; and if I am to go, I should wish to g0
according to the will of God-not the power of Evil.’ The Saint then looked
towards where the old woman said the candle burned; and by the power Of
his holiness he extinguished the candle; and when the light was put Out: the
witch Beamon knew that a greater power than her own had entered the
" The legend of Beamon‘s candle-said to have given a name to the “Rock”-is a very famous legend‘
ln ancient times a hut stood where the castle now stands. and the onlv dweller in it was -'1“ “Id "itch'
named Beamon. Every night a candle flnnv its gleams arofmd the -idj tcdnt countrV' 111'1d“"l"’e"" chanced
n - . 2 ‘ .
W 5“ it became 3 “0"P5e I"-‘(OW m0n1ing- Even to this day the perasant when he passes if: am’ we sun 1‘
n the manna!
down, will turn his eyes in an opposite direcgion,
' The power of the necromance. was destroyed 5
described to us hit our guide. .