Spenser's Irish Rivers (11)

The other stream is the Behanna,[17] which rises in 'Arlo-hill,' a little to the west of the summit of Galtymore, and after a course of about four miles, joins the Funsheon at the hamlet of Kilbeheny. This is the Molanna. We have, as I have said, no choice in the matter; there is no stream but the Behanna flowing from the Galtys into the Funsheon, except mere tiny brooklets that could not claim a moment's consideration; and in every respect it answers the poet's description of the Molanna. It is formed by the junction of two streams far up in the mountains, each flowing through a deep glen, with a high hill (Knocknadarriff or the hill of the bulls) jutting out boldly between them. The eastern branch is named Carrigeen (little rock) from a rock extending along the side of the glen through which it flows, which is also often called Doocarrig or black rock. The other or western branch is called Coolatinny (the recess of the fox), or more commonly the Pigeon Rock stream. Rising over the side of the western glen is a great precipice called Carrignagloor, or the rock of the pigeons, which gives the name of Pigeon Rock to the stream.

Each stream has its own rock towering up on the side of its glen; and this is obviously what the poet had in his mind when he described the Molanna as "springing from two marble rocks." The "grove of oakes high mounted" over the double source is gone indeed; but so are the dense woods that once clothed the Galtys—"all those faire forrests about Arlo hid"—for which these mountains were noted in times not very remote. When you look from a point on the Behanna, a little below the junction of the two head streams, upwards into the two rocky glens winding into the heart of the mountains, you can hardly help believing that in Spenser's time the grove of oaks that so struck his fancy crowned the summit of Knocknadarriff, which rises abrupt and bare between the two streams to a height of 2,000 feet straight before you.

The "many woods and shady coverts" that crowned the silver channel of the Molanna three hundred years ago are also gone; but down to a very recent period a wood extended along both sides of the river for about a mile below the junction of the two tributary streams. This was called Coolattin wood, and was a modern plantation; but it was doubtless the successor of a forest of ancient growth. Coolattin wood was cut down seven or eight years ago, but abundant vestiges of it still remain—roots and stumps of trees, and an occasional undergrowth of oak, ash, hazel, and birch.

After tumbling down from its mountain channel, the Behanna emerges sharply on the plain, through which it winds gently for the last mile of its course, among level meadows and cornfields, till it joins the Funsheon near the bridge of Kilbeheny; thus corresponding exactly with the words of the poet:

So now her waves passe through a pleasant plaine,

Till with the Fanchin she herselfe do wed,

And, both combin'd, themselves in one faire river spred.

The stream is very steep in the first part of its course; and the winter torrents have in the course of ages rolled down vast quantities of large stones and gravel and deposited them in the level part of its bed. The people indeed often come specially to the river during heavy floods to listen to the great noise made by the stones as they are rolled down by the torrent, tearing crashing and grinding against each other. The poet has figured this feature of the river bed under a thin veil, in the passage where he tells us that the nymphs at the command of Diana overwhelmed Molanna with stones. So that here as elsewhere his accurate delineation of local features helps us to identify the stream; and when we have succeeded in this, our knowledge of the place heightens our appreciation of his beautiful allegory. He is no less truthful when he writes:

But this Molanna, were she not so shole [shallow],

Were no lesse faire and beautifull then shee [i.e. than the Mulla]:

Yet as she is a fairer flood may no man see.

For the Behanna never becomes deep and slow in its movement like the Mulla, but flows brightly and quickly along, winding and dashing among the stones that everywhere strew its bed, and showing all along the clear gravel at the bottom. And as to beauty, I question whether the poet was not prejudiced in favour of his own beloved Mulla, when he pronounced it superior to Molanna; for even though "so shole," the Molanna is a very lovely stream.

Notes

[17] It is now called Beheena by the natives; but a generation ago it was called Behanna, and this is the name perpetuated on the Ordnance maps.