Waterford seemed a pretty, lively, bustling town. The river seemed alive
with boats; there was a good deal of building going on near the depot,
and the people had a step and an air as if they had something to do and
were hurrying to do it. It looked very unlike its ancient name, which
was, I am told, the Glen of Lamentation. Tales still linger here of the
sack of Waterford by Strongbow and his marriage to Princess Eva, and of
the landing here of Henry the Second when he came to take possession.
From Waterford up through Kilkenny in the sunshine, wondering to see hay
still being cut in September. Heard no word of Kilkenny black coal or
Kilkenny marble and passed on to Bagenalstown in Carlow and up through
Kildare to Dublin.
The days were passing so swiftly away that there was but a little time
to see Dublin sights; the question was, therefore, what to see and what
not to see. Owing to the kindness of Miss Leitch, an art student, I had
the privilege of half an hour in the Academy. Having so little time I
spent it all before Maclise's picture of the marriage of Strongbow and
Princess Eva and in a small way understood how a great painter can tell
a story.
