Portadown, All We Saw Of It, Just Passing Through, Is A
Clean And Thrifty Little Town.
We would have liked to linger in Armagh a little while, but we must
hurry down to the South.
Got a glimpse of Armagh Catholic cathedral - a
very fine building, not so grand, however, as the Cathedral at Sligo.
Took notice of a very fine memorial window, with the name of Archbishop
Crolly on it. I remember him very well, saw him frequently, got a pat on
the head from him occasionally. He seemed partial to the little folks,
when we played in the chapel yard - a nice place to play in was the
chapel yard in Donegal street. He was then Bishop Crolly, and I was a
very small heretic, who loved to play on forbidden ground. Walked about
a little in Armagh between the trains, saw that there were many fine
churches and other nice buildings from the outside view of them, and
passed on to Clones. The land as seen from the railway is good in some
places, poor in others, but in all parts plenty of houses not fit to be
human habitations are to be seen.
Clones is a little town on a hill, with a history that stretches back
into the dim ages. It has a round tower that threatens to fall, and
will, too, some windy night; an abbey almost gone, but whose age and
weakness is propped up by modern repairs, as, they say, the tenure of
some land depends on the old gable of the abbey standing; a three-story
fort, that, as Clones is built on a hill and the fort is built on
Clones, affords a wide view of the surrounding country.
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