" I suspect that the people who saw me walking
up through the storm yesterday must have thought me the prince of the
powers of the air at least.
HIBERNIAN HOTEL, TRALEE,
_1843, August 7_.
I sailed from Valencia to Cahersiveen town in a sail-boat up the water
(not crossing at the ferry). I had accommodated my time to the wish of
the boatman, who desired to be there in time for prayers: so that I
had a long waiting at Cahersiveen for the mail car. In walking through
the little town, I passed the chapel (a convent chapel) to which the
people were going: and really the scene was very curious. The chapel
appeared to be overflowing full, and the court in front of it was full
of people, some sitting on the ground, some kneeling, and some
prostrate. There were also people in the street, kneeling with their
faces towards the gate pillars, &c. It seemed to me that the priest
and the chapel were of less use here than even in the continental
churches, and I do not see why both parties should not have stopped at
home. When the chapel broke up, it seemed as if the streets were
crammed with people. The turnout that even a small village in Ireland
produces is perfectly amazing.
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