CHAPTER VII.

THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY.

WE left Coleraine about four o'clock for Portrush and the Giants' Causeway, our road lying directly north, and considerably to the east of the mouth of the Bann and of the small watering place of Port Stewart. Though on the borders we were still within the limits of the county of Londonderry, until we came into the vicinity of Portrush, when we entered the county of Antrim. Portrush is about five miles from Coleraine, and may be regarded as its seaport. Small vessels, it is true, come up the Bann as far as Coleraine itself, but its main export and import trade is conducted at Portrush, which has a commodious and safe harbour capable of receiving large ships.

Portrush is a neat little town, beautifully situated on the shores of its own small bay, and commanding splendid views of the Donegal mountains on the west, and of the range of magnificent sea-cliffs on the east, at and beyond the Giants' Causeway. Beside the town, properly so called, there is at a little distance from it, close on the sea-bank, a neat

new village much resorted to for sea-bathing, and as a place of summer residence. It would not be easy to find on any coast a more attractive spot than this, when we take into account its fine beach, the splendid coast scenery it commands, and the magnificent ocean spreading out illimitably in its front.

There is an active traffic carried on between Portrush and the Scottish ports, both by sailing vessels and steamers. One of the latter was lying in the harbour when we passed by it; and another, which had just sailed, kept in our view all along the coast till we approached the vicinity of the Giants' Causeway. There was also in the harbour a vessel destined for Scotland, loading with a cargo of that remarkable white limestone (indurated chalk) which intermixes so curiously along the coast with the trap or basaltic rock.

At Portrush we made our first acquaintance with that glorious sea-cliff-road which bounds so large a portion of the magnificent shores of Antrim, and of which we subsequently saw so much in our journey to Belfast. On the eastern shore this road has existed a good many years, but this Portrush fragment has only been constructed about four years. In tracing it onwards towards the Causeway, every one must be struck by its remarkable features. Formed, as it were, in the face of the sea-rampart, midway between the beach and the top of the cliff, it commands the most beautiful and romantic shore

scenery that can well be imagined; retreating with each retiring bay, advancing round each "beaked promontory," and so opening up new views, each rivalling the other, at every stage of the traveller's progress. Many of the sea-worn cliffs below, and many of the sharp-angled cliffs above, assume the most fantastic shapes, and are rendered still more picturesque from the singular contrast presented by the intermingling, here and there, of snow-white ridges and fragments of indurated chalk with the dark basaltic rock which constitutes the great mass of this iron-bound coast.

On one of the promontories, or rather on an insulated rock, joined to the shore by an artificial bridge-like mound, is situated the celebrated ruins of Dunluce Castle, still imposing by their vast extent and massiveness. The rock on which this castle is built rises up there to the height of 100 feet from the water, which washes it on three of its sides. The castle, as may be seen by its existing ruins, is evidently not of very ancient date, that is to say, not beyond the date of a few centuries back, when feudalism had been softened by advancing civilization. It resembles, both in its position and character, many of the old castles which crown the sea-cliffs in Scotland, and was, no doubt, in its day a fortress of great strength. Like all the other headlands of the coast, it commands magnificent views of sea and land. Its walls, like those of

all middle-age castles, are of enormous thickness, and the apartments generally of small extent. I observed that the jambs or facings of the windows, still remaining entire, are formed of pieces of columnar basalt, shaped for use by the hand of nature in the neighbouring cliffs, and answering the purpose as well, and almost as neatly, as the hewn stones ordinarily used.

A short way beyond Dunluce Castle, the road turns off from the shore in order to get round the top of a small bay, the estuary of the river Bush, which runs inwards from the coast to the east of the Giant's Causeway, towards the small town of Bushmill. In passing through this place, we took up John King, the guide, and about a mile and a half beyond reached our resting-place for the night, the new and splendid Causeway hotel.

There being still, however, about an hour's daylight, we took advantage of the attendance of our guide, and, while dinner was preparing, proceeded to view some of the accessories of the Causeway usually visited by strangers. In so doing, we followed one of the two principles which we had laid down for our guidance on first undertaking this journey, and to which I, at least, had rigidly adhered throughout;—these principles being, 1st, not to leave any portion of time, except that devoted to sleep and meals, unoccupied by one or other of the objects contemplated in our visit to Ireland; and

2d, to give no consideration to the weather, that unworthy bugbear of northern men, so long as it was not altogether inhibitory. By adhering to these principles (which I recommend to the notice of all travellers whose time is limited), and so making use not merely of the large and unbroken masses of time, but of all the fragments, however disjointed or small, we were enabled to do and see and hear more, than would have been possible, even during a considerably longer period, on the ordinary plan of jaunty travelling.

Even if our present crepuscular activity had gained us nothing more than forestalling work that would have taken something from the hours of to-morrow, we should have been the gainers so far; not to mention the happy exchange of the tedium of dinner-waiting within doors, for the attractions of air and sea and sky without. But we did gain something positive also in the way of sight-seeing. After rowing half a mile or more within the shadow of the dark vertical cliff, we pushed suddenly into a large cavern in the rock, where our boat lay as in a roofed harbour. This is the great Dunkerry cave, said to be about 100 feet in height, and 600 feet long. Being a mere chasm in the rock, with walls of amorphous basalt, without any trace of crystallization, it exhibits no feature of special interest to the mere sight-seer. It possesses, however, the geological interest of presenting, in open section, the huge rift in the strata, originally filled