Both brothers were in the same regiment, the 86th Foot, or "Royal
County Downs."*

*I have since writing the above ascertained that it was my grand-uncle
who was wounded.

My earliest recollections are of Abbeyview, near Cashel, where we lived
until the early sixties. The celebrated "Rock," with its many monuments
and the grand ruins of its once-spacious abbey, were visible from our
front windows. We had another place, not far off, called Clahalea. I
remember that the ploughing there used to be done with Italian
buffaloes.

In the early sixties we moved to a place called Springfield, situated
just at the northern outlet of the "Scalp," a very rugged pass in the
Wicklow Hills. The stream which divides Wicklow County from that of
Dublin ran through a small portion of the place, the house being on the
Dublin side.

As I suffered from weak health up to my twelfth year, I was not allowed
to go to school; consequently I ran wild. I was seven years old when
I learnt to read, but it was a long time before I could write. There
was a small lake on the estate which was full of fish; every stream
contained trout. The hills abounded in rabbits and hares; in a
larch-forest, since cut away, were woodcock. Pheasants used often to
stray over from Lord Powerscourt's demesne, which was separated from
our ground by a much-broken fence. These my father strictly forbade me
to snare, but I fear I did not always obey him. Pheasants roasted in
the depths of the larch-wood, and flavored with the salt of secrecy,
were appetizing indeed.

One ridiculous incident of my childhood suggests itself. For a boy, of
eight I was a fair chess-player. A friend and distant relative of ours,
Captain Meagher brother of Thomas Francis Meagher, who was a general in
the Confederate Army during the American War stayed for a time at an
inn in the village of Enniskerry, which was two or three miles away. He
was a frequent visitor, and I used to continually worry him to play
chess. One day he told me that he never played this game except very
early in the morning, and that if I would come down some day at 5 a.m.
he would have a game with me.

But poor Captain Meagher little knew who he was dealing with. Next
morning, at a quarter to five, I was in the street in front of the inn.
The season must have been early spring or late autumn, for it was
pitch-dark and very cold. I trotted up and down the village street,
chess-board and chessmen in hand, trying to keep m