Mrs. Grattan’s Cottage

Artist(s) : John Carr (Draughtsman)

View of the rustic cottage designed by Mrs Henry Grattan, overlooking the Dargle near the Grattans' house at Tinnehinch, Co. Wicklow. The river flows through a narrow creek, with woods on either side, into more open country. There are two cows on the bank above the river, and other cows and sheep on the grassy slopes that descend to the water. The cottage is located near the summit of a steep hill to the right of the river. Mountains occupy the background.
By 1814, Anne Plumptre considered that the cottage had fallen into disrepair, but this is not borne out by the parties which, according to other writers, continued to be held there.

Inscribed in Image

  • Caption outside of boundaries of image – Mrs. Grattan’s Cottage. / Published June 4th by R. Phillips. No. 6, New Bridge Street, Black fryars
  • Caption outside of boundaries of image – Drawn by J Carr Esq.r

Image Details

Genre Landscape
Technique Aquatints
Subject(s) Nature, Rural life
Geographical Location
  • The Dargle - River
  • Wicklow - County
  • Leinster - Province
Keywords(s) Buildings, Cabins, Cliffs, Cottages, Hills, Houses, Lands, Livestock, Mountains, Ravines, Rivers, Sheep, Trees
Colour Coloured
Dimensions 13 cm x 20.5 cm
Published / created 1806

Bibliographical Details

Travel Account The stranger in Ireland
Contributor(s)
Print or manuscript Print
Location of image in copy opp. p. 140
Source copy National Library of Ireland LO 2699 Dir. Off.
Permalink
Rights Courtesy of the National Library of Ireland

Related text from travel account

As we wished to walk through the Dargle, we alighted from our chaise near a beautiful cottage upon the domains of Lord Viscount Powerscourt, and ordered our driver to go to the principal entrance of the Dargle, about two miles distant. We had scarcely measured one hundred feet from the cottage, before, as we stood upon an emi // nence, a new world of rural beauty opened upon us, of rich vallies and mountains covered with wood, melting into air; whilst below a serpentine river glistened in the sun, until it lost itself in the Dargle, whither we followed its course. Impossible as it is to convey, by verbal painting, a just idea of this exquisite scene, I approach an attempt to describe it with considerable apprehension. The Dargle is a deep glen, or narrow valley, of about a mile in length; at the entrance where we approached it, opposite to us a beautiful little pleasure-cottage peeped over the ridge of one of the hills which form the green-breasted sides of this glen; it was just discernible in a little plantation which crowned the precipice upon which it stood: this elegant and romantic little summer retreat was raised after the tasteful design of Mrs. Grattan, the lady of the illustrious member of that name, to whom it belongs. As we descended by the paths which have been cut through the woods, new beauties opened upon us. The hill, on the sides of which we stood, and its opposite neighbour, were covered with trees, principally young oak, projecting with luxuriant foliage from masses of rock half green with moss, which reminded us of Milton's description of the / "Verdurous wall of Paradise upraised." / Here, concealed by over-arching leaves, the river, like fretful man in his progress through this unequal world, was // scarcely heard to ripple; there it flashed before the eye again, as if in anger at its concealment, rolled impetuously over its rocky bed, and roared down a craggy declivity; a little further, having recovered its calmness, it seemed to settle for a while, resembling, in sullen silence and placidity, a dark mirror; then, never destined to long tranquillity, it proceeded, and was again lost in arches of foliage, under which it murmured and died upon the ear. It was in this spot, under the green roof of native oaks starting from their rocky beds, sequestered from the theatre of that world upon which he afterwards sustained so distinguished a character, that Grattan, when a very young man, addressed the tumultuous waters as his auditory, and schooled himself, like Demosthenes, in that eloquence which was destined to elevate the glory of Ireland with his own. [pp. 139-141]
Mrs. Grattan’s Cottage