Books: The Letters of Norah on her Tour Through Ireland

M >> Margaret Dixon McDougall >> The Letters of Norah on her Tour Through Ireland

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The avenue along which we travelled was a causeway made at great expense
along the brow of a steep hill or rather ridge, one side being supported
by a stone wall. This work, undertaken for the benefit of travellers to
Ashford, must have afforded constant employment for a good many men for
a long time. Arriving at a modern archway in the ancient style protected
by an iron gate, we sought admittance, showing our permit from the
office. The keeper's wife examined it and passed it over to the keeper,
who examined it also, asked some prudent, cautious questions, and we
were admitted to a part of the grounds.

This gate keeper, a remarkably gentlemanly old man, in his respectable
blue broadcloth, his comely sagacious, weather-beaten face, his guarded
manner of speaking, and his name, Grant, made me quite sure that he was
a Highlandman, which he was not, but a Western Irishman. He informed us
as we went along that only part of the grounds could be seen on account
of the troubled state of the country. Whether there was any part of the
demesne that an elderly woman and a pretty girl were likely to run away
with became a subject of thought to me. Conscientiously this delightful
old man kept us off tabooed walks and shunted us into permissible
places. Where all was beautiful and new, and time having a limit, we
were quite willing when brought to order, to follow on the allowed path.

I was admiring a tree of the regally magnificent kind, leaf-draped
branches like green robes sweeping down to the emerald sward, that
always remind me of the glorious trees which sunlight loves to gild in
the grounds at Castle Coole; I remarked on its exceeding beauty to our
guide, who said it would bear a nearer view, and we followed him on a
path through the grass till we stood beside it. Parting the foliage we
found ourselves at a natural grotto of light-colored stone, where a
stream of "the purest of crystal" came from under the rock at one end,
and glancing in the stray beams of sunlight that found their way in
through the arch of leaves, flashed down a tiny cascade in a shower of
diamonds, and with a little gurgling laugh hid under the rock again,
racing on to join the subterranean waters that laugh together over the
failure of the great canal.

The new tower is built after the fashion of the ancient towers with the
spiral staircase, that was common to all castles and abbeys of the west.
The mason work was much coarser and more roughly done, but the imitation
of the ancient tower was very good other ways. I do not believe that
modern masons could produce so perfect a specimen of workmanship as the
tower of Moyne Abbey, with its spiral staircase of black marble. The
view from the top of the tower at Ashford repaid well the expenditure of
breath to climb up to it.

The house is a castle and made after the pattern of ancient castles; it
is large and must contain any amount of lofty and spacious rooms, which
it is to be supposed are furnished as luxuriously and magnificently as
possible. It is certainly a very fine building, and looks as nice and
new as stone and mortar can make it, but the ivy green will soon cover
it all up with its green mantle. We were not able to walk over even the
allowed portion of the grounds, as they extended for miles. We parted
from our gentlemanly conductor at a certain gate. He was so nice that we
felt almost ashamed to offer the expected gratuity which was, however,
thankfully received.

I pondered a little way over the man's remarks who had been our guide
through the demesne. He always kept repeating that we might have been
shown the gardens and the house, but for the disturbance in the country.
I wondered to hear hints of trouble on this estate, for no man, woman or
child, with whom I conversed, but spoke highly of the generosity,
magnanimity and kindliness of Lord Ardilaun, and his father before him.
I have seen in his lordship's own writing and over his signature the
statement that, during prosperous years, even, the rent has not been
raised, that he had for years spent on his property more than double the
rental in improvements and for labor. When I read this I thought of the
causeway raised along the brow of a hill over which I walked in the
demesne, I thought at the time what an amount of labor was expended to
place it there. There has also been made an addition to the castle,
which must have given a great deal of employment. Some, or rather a
great deal of the property was bought from the late Earl of Leitrim, who
had raised the rents, it is asserted, to the "highest top sparkle"
before selling, to enhance the value.

I do not know anything of the value of land here; it is very stony land.
I was pointed out a field which was not very stony, comparatively
speaking, but still had more stones, or stony crust rather, than a good
farmer would desire. I was told it paid L2 per acre. I wonder how it is
possible to raise rent and taxes off these fields, never to mention
support for the farmers. The land requires very stimulating manure to
produce a crop. When bad years come, and render the tenant farmers
unable to purchase guano, the crops are worthless almost. The necessity
of buying artificial manure is a terrible necessity that American
farmers know nothing of.

I dare say the tenants expect too much in many instances, for they are
accustomed to be treated as children in leading strings. The amount of
dependence on this one and that one in superior stations is very
wonderful, but their utter helplessness to take the first step toward
better times is also wonderful. I have heard of men, by the last bad
seasons unable to buy guano, having to strip the roofs off their houses
that the rain may wash off the soot into the land to fructify it. On
account of shelter for game, it is not permissible to cut heather for
bedding, for stock, or covering for houses. Breaking this prohibition
even on land for which they pay rent and taxes is, they complain,
punished with fines of from two and sixpence to seven and sixpence for
as much as could be carried on the back.

For a farmer to get on here he must be able to buy manure. The crop on a
farm has to pay rent, which is high, and taxes, which are heavy, even if
no guard for somebody has to be paid for, or no malicious outrage is
levied for on the county in compensation, and manure, which, if got
before paying, is charged, I am told, twenty-five percent additional for
waiting; all this must be met before the support of the family can be
thought of beyond merely existing. The more one looks at the want of the
people, the more one becomes bewildered with the perplexities of the
situation, and the more hopeless about the setting of things right by
the Land Bill or anything else.

It is pleasant to hear on all sides praises of Lord Ardilaun as a high-
spirited, generous man. The slight difference of opinion between him and
his people is blamed on the fact of his not being able to understand how
poor the tenants are, or how what is little in his eyes may be life or
death to them. There was some trouble, I believe, about the building of
a causeway across to some sacred island, which was built by the people
without leave asked, or in spite of prohibition given; but in the main I
think that Lord Ardilaun is very much loved.

How it does rain in this green land. I think it rained every day of the
days I remained at Cong except the blink of sunshine that shone on the
castle and grounds the day that I went over part of the Ashford
_demesne_.

At Cong, for the first time in my life, I heard the Irish lament or
caoine for the dead. Some one was brought in from the country to be
buried in the Abbey of Cong. It was a simple country funeral. The dead
was borne on one of the carts of the country, followed by the neighbors,
and accompanied by the parish priest of Cong. The day was very wet even
for Ireland. After the burial service was over the women, kneeling by
the new made grave, among the rank wet grass, and the dripping ivy,
raised the caoine. It was a most unearthly sound, sweet like singing,
sad like crying, rising up among the ruined towers, and clinging ivy and
floating up heavenwards. I believe the stories of banshees must have
arisen from the sound of the caoine. These mourning women were very
skilful, I was told, and were relations of the dead whom they mourned,
and whose good qualities mingled with their love and grief rose in
wailing cry and floated weirdly over the ruins and up to the clouds.

I had at this time an invitation from Mr. Sydney Bellingham to come over
to Castle Bellingham to see life from another standpoint. I was standing
at the window debating with myself. I did not like to leave the West
before seeing a little more of it, and I do want, in the interests of
truth, to look at things from every available standpoint. If I go to
Castle Bellingham I must go now, I reasoned, for after this they go to
England. As I stood there thinking, a handsome car dashed past with a
gentleman and lady on it, followed by another with a guard of policemen.
I enquired who this guarded gentleman was, and was told it was that Mr.
Bourke who went into the Catholic church armed to the teeth.

I have been nearly five months in Ireland, travelling about almost
constantly, and as yet have only seen three persons who were protected
by police, two men and one woman. I decided to leave Cong, and after
studying on the map the nearest way to Castle Bellingham, determined to
take that way.

Left Cong in the early morning to sail down Lough Corrib to Galway. For
some reason the landing place has been altered, and is now some distance
from Cong, at which it used to be. This change is a drawback to Cong.
There are mills at Cong that used to grind indian corn, but they are not
used now for some reason or other, and are falling into ruin. The
shifting of the landing place was done by Lord Ardilaun, the stoppage of
the mills by him also. The landing place where the little steamer waited
for freight and passengers had a little crowd, who seemed to have more
to do than just to look on, and there was a little hum of traffic that
sounded cheerful.

It was a very windy day; Lough Corrib's waves had white caps on. The sun
came out fitfully, and the clouds swept great shadows over the mountain
sides. There were patches of green oats bathed in sunshine, and
plantations of larch and fir standing close and locked in shadow. The
wind was so strong that the little steamer seemed to plough her way with
a bobbing motion like the coots on Lough Gill. We had a fine view from
the lake of Ashford _demesne_, and the castle looking still grander
and newer in the distance, all its towers and pinnacles bathed in the
cold sunshine.

There are many islands in Lough Corrib besides the islands that the
priest and people of Clonbur built the causeway to. It is strange that
two lords take their titles from islands in this lake, Lord Inchiquin
and Lord Ardilaun. Some of the peasantry felt hurt because Lord Ardilaun
took his title from an island instead of from some part of the mainland.
I was pointed out in the distance from the lake, Moytura house, the home
of Sir William Wilde; it stands where was fought the battle of Moytura
in ancient times.

From the steamer we saw the ruined fortress, Annabreen Castle, said to
be six hundred years old. The masonry is very curious, being all done
within and without, quoins, doorways, window frames, of undressed stone,
and yet most admirably done.

I stood on the deck of the little steamer while the wind blew in the
teeth of the little boat and made her shiver and rock, and I endured
sharp neuralgiac pain, and lost my veil, which was blown off and went
sailing off into the lake because I would not miss seeing all Lough
Corrib had to show. I saw the ivy plaided walls of Caislean na
Cailliach, and on a little island the remains of an old uncemented stone
fort, so old that antiquity has forgotten it. The scenery was very
grand, the islands grassy and round, or waving with trees, the lake
covered with white horses riding with tossing manes to the shore; the
little boat with its broad breast holding its own against the swells,
the shores with green mountains checked off into fields, with higher
mountains blue in the distance rising behind them. All under

"The skies of dear Erin, our mother
Where sunshine and shadow are chasing each other."

The little steamer steamed up to the wharf and backed and stopped, in
most American fashion, at a lonely backwoods-looking wharf, but the
pillars for the snubbing rope were pillars of stone, and near were the
ruins of a tall square castle in good preservation. There are also the
walls of the bishop's residence here, with the bells of St. Brendan;
they told me this was the saint who discovered the happy land flowing
with milk and honey, the key to which lies hidden in Cuneen Miaul's tomb
and the ruins of an extensive abbey, a monastery and a nunnery and other
buildings.

Truly the banks and islands of Lough Corrib are made classic by ruins.
They say the carved mouldings and stone work on these ruins are
considered the most beautiful and most perfect in Ireland. We passed,
farther on, the ruins of Armaghdown, the castle fort of the bog. After
this the land got low and flat, and we saw Menlough Castle, where a
baronet of the name of Blake resides, when he's at home. It is counted
the most beautiful of all the ancient castles which are still inhabited.
All I can say is, it looked well from the lake. Lough Corrib is
calculated to cover 44,000 acres, and is well supplied with fish.

XLV.

THE EASTERN COAST--THE LAND QUESTION FROM A LANDLORD'S STANDPOINT.

Went through Galway to the station as fast as a jaunting car could take
me, and took the train for Dublin.

Crossing Ireland thus from Galway to Dublin, I noticed that the land got
to be more uniformly fertile as we neared the eastern coast. From Dublin
the road ran down the coast, in sight of the sea for most part. Through
counties Dublin, Meath and Louth, the land looked like the garden of
Eden. It was all like one demesne heavy with trees, interspersed with
large fields having rich crops and great meadows waving with grass; the
cultivation, so weedless, so regular, every ridge and furrow as straight
as a rule could make it, every corner cultivated most scrupulously. It
was a great pleasure to look at the farms. Truly this is a rich and
fertile land. And yet in no place which I have seen so far have I
noticed any laborers' cottages, fit to live in, except on a few places
in Antrim.

This east coast was beautiful exceedingly, and yet I saw on this good
land mud huts which were not fit to be kennels for dogs inhabited by
human beings. I heard a shilling a week spoken of as rent for these
abominable pigsties, collected every Saturday night. Twenty-five cents
looks small, but it is taken out of a small wage. The country railway
stations are very nice to look at.

Arrived at Castle Bellingham, received a very kindly welcome indeed.
Felt inclined to snuggle down into enjoyment here, to the neglect of my
work. The country is so fertile, so beautiful, the large fields waving
with luxuriant crops. The roses are in bloom climbing over the fronts of
the houses, clinging round the second-story windows and on to the roof.
It is a feast to look at them, hanging their heads heavy with beauty in
clusters of three, creamy-white or red of every shade, from the faintest
pink to the velvet leaf of deepest crimson. I suppose that they flourish
best amid frequent rains, for this has been a remarkably rainy season,
and the wealth of roses is wonderful to see, the air is sweet with their
breath.

South Gate House, Castle Bellingham, is one of the houses that tempts
one to the breach of the tenth commandment. I have stood in the front
garden and looked at it trying to learn it off by heart. It is draped
with a wonderful variety of roses climbing over it, wreathing round it,
heavy with bloom. Every inch of land in the front garden is utilized
with the taste that creates beauty. Inside the house is a constant
surprise; the comfort and cosiness, the space to be comfortable in, room
after room appearing as a new revelation, made it appear a very
desirable residence to me.

At the end of the house, from the conservatory, can be seen the tree
under which His Majesty, of glorious, pious and immortal memory, eat his
luncheon on his way to fight for a kingdom at the Boyne. The Bellinghams
were an old family then. Some say proudly, "We came over with good King
William." Others can say, "He found us here when he came."

The evening after my arrival was taken up looking at the house, looking
at the grounds, wondering over the ferns and flowers, and deciding that
it was rather nice to be an Irish country gentleman. The next morning
found me through the gardens wondering over the abundance of fruit and
the perfect management that made the most of every corner.

Mr. Bellingham drove me over to Dunany Castle, where Sir Allan
Bellingham resides at present. The road lay through the usual beautiful
country that spreads along this east coast, plantations of fine trees,
large fields of grain, great meadows and bean fields that perfumed the
air. We passed a large mill; I took particular notice of it, because
mills do not often occur as a feature in the landscape on the western
coast. There were mills at Westport belonging to the Messrs.
Livingstone, but they were not as obtrusive as American mills are. One
became aware of them by the prosperity they created. In Cong, the corn
mill standing idle and falling to ruin, was the last mill which I had
observed. This was one reason of my noticing this mill, which was busily
working.

When we came where the road lay along the shore, Mr. Bellingham stopped
the carriage that I might see the salmon fishers hauling in their nets.
This salmon fishery is very valuable. In 1845 the right to fish here was
paid for at the rate of L10 per annum; in 1881 the right to fish brings
L130. Still, I am told, the man who has the fishing makes a great deal.
The fish are exported. This salmon fishery belongs to Sir Allan
Bellingham. It was a strange sight to me to see so many men and boys
walking unconcernedly waist deep in the sea. I wondered over the number
of men and boys which were required to haul in one net. Truly, fishing
is a laborious business, but still, how pleasant to see the busy fisher
folk, and to know that work brings meat. I remembered the silent waters
on long stretches of the western shores. I remembered the rejoicing at
Dromore west, over the Canadian given boats. God bless, and prosper, and
multiply the fisher folk. In from the sea, through the pleasant land, we
drove a little farther into the solemn woods that surround Dunany
Castle. As we neared the castle the woods became broken into a lawn and
pleasure ground, and at a sudden turn we found ourselves before the
castle. I am not yet tired of looking at castles, whether in ruins, as
relics of the past, or inhabited as the "stately houses where the
wealthy people dwell."

Dunany, with its court-yard, where wines, climbing roses and Virginia
creepers grew luxuriantly over the battlemented walls, reminded me of
descriptions I had read of Moorish houses in sunny Spain. Every house
has a history, and it is no wonder if these great houses tell a story of
other times and other scenes that has a powerful influence on the minds
of the descendants of those who founded these houses and carved out
these fortunes. There were little children playing before the castle,
happy and free, that ran to meet their uncle.

We were received by Sir Thomas Butler, Sir Allan's son-in-law, whom I
had met with before on the evening of my arrival at Castle Bellingham.
My errand to Dunany Castle was, strictly speaking, to gather the
opinions of these gentlemen on the land question, but the quaint,
foreign look of the castle, and the historic names of Butler and
Bellingham, sent my mind off into the past, to the battle of the Boyne,
and into the dimness beyond, when the war cry of "A Butler" was a
rallying cry that had power in the green vales of Erin.

In the cold Celtic times when men held by the strong hand, the numerical
fighting power of the clan was of the utmost importance, a chieftain
being valued by the number of men who would follow him to the field. As
a consequence, men were precious. In these more peaceful times, when the
lords of the soil are rated by their many acres, lands, and not likely
lads, are the symbol of greatness.

Sir Allan Bellingham is such a fresh-looking active gentleman that I
could hardly bring myself to think that he had reached, by reason of
strength, the scriptural fourscore. I was almost too much taken up
admiring to think of the Land Question, but, after the fashionable five
o'clock tea, had some conversation with Sir Allan and Sir Thomas on the
subject.

Sir Allan thought the Land League much to blame for the present
miserable state of affairs. Men well able to pay their rents, and
supposed to be willing to pay their rents, were prevented from paying
from a system of terrorism inaugurated by the Land League. Some
instances were given. One was of the man who had the mill which we
passed on the road, who being behind in his rent, was willing to pay but
dare not do it. Certainly by the busy appearance of the mill and by the
style of his dwelling-house it did not seem to be inability that kept
him from paying. Another instance was that of a man holding a large
farm, on which he had erected a fine house, which I saw in passing, a
very nice residence indeed, with plate glass windows, and carpeted
throughout with Brussels carpets, I am told. The large fields were
waving with a fine crop; there were some grand fields of wheat, the
stack yard had many stacks of last year's grain and hay. This man had
given his son lately L2500 to settle himself on a farm. It certainly
would not be poverty that prevented him paying his rent, for there was
every evidence of wealth around him. I heard of men, who, having paid
their rent, could not get their horses shod at the blacksmith's shop.
For breaking the rules of the Land League they were set apart from their
fellows.

I can well imagine that serious embarrassments must arise to landlords
when their rents, their only income, are kept back from them. How I
would rejoice to know that landlord and tenant were reconciled once
more, that lordship and leadership were united in one person.

Sir Thomas Butler informed me that, "when a landlord dies and his son
succeeds him the Government do not charge him succession duty on his
rental but on Griffith's (or the Poor Law) valuation of his estate, plus
30 per cent. If his estate is rented at only 10 per cent over the
valuation, he has to pay Government all the same, and is consequently
over charged 20 per cent because in the opinion of the Government
authorities, the fair letting value of land is from 25 to 30 per cent
over Griffiths valuation, and they charge accordingly." (I suppose it is
founded upon this law of succession duty that when a tenant dies the
widow has the rent raised upon her.) "Under the Bright clauses of the
Land Act of 1870 the Government is authorized to advance to the tenant
two-thirds of the purchase money for his holding. At first the Treasury
fixed 24 years' purchase of the valuation as the scale they would adopt,
and under that they lent 16 years' purchase to the tenant, who at once
remonstrated that their interest was a great deal more. After numerous
enquiries, &c., the treasury changed the 24 years into 30 years, and
consequently let the tenants 20 years value of their valuation, they
finding the other ten years, clearly showing that in the opinion of the
tenants themselves and the Government land was worth 30 years' purchase
of its valuation. What is the proposal now by the tenants and agitators?
That they should clearly only pay at the rate of Griffith's valuation,
which, a few years ago, they themselves asserted was fifty percent below
the selling value, and which valuation was taken when wheat, oats,
barley, butter, beef, mutton and pork were much below the present value.
Landlords have not raised their rents in proportion. My own estate in
1843 had 116 tenants, in 1880 it had 105 tenants on 5,760 statute acres.
The difference in the rent paid in 1880 over that paid in 1843 is L270,
barely six percent on the whole rental, which is almost 16 percent over
valuation. Over L2,000 was forgiven in the bad years after potato
famine, and over L1,000 has been lost by nonpaying tenants, and a
considerable sum has been expended in improvements without charging the
tenant interest; in some cases the cost has been divided between
landlord and tenant. It is a very common practice in Ireland to fix a
rent for a tenant and to reduce that rent on the tenant executing
certain improvements. No improving tenant, or one who pays his rent, is
ever disturbed in possession of his farm--it is only the insolvent one
that is put out, and by the time the landlord can obtain possession of
the farm it is always in a most delapidated condition. An ejectment for
non-payment of rent cannot be brought till a clear year's rent is due,
and usually the tenant owes more before it is brought, and he has always
from date of decree to redeem the farm by paying what is due on the
decree with costs. The landlord has, in case of redemption by the
tenant, to account for the profits he has made out of the land during
the six months. When dilapidation and waste have taken place no
compensation for the loss can be obtained by the landlord from the the
tenant. In cases of leases, the landlord finds it quite impossible to
enforce the covenants for good tillage and preservation of fences,
buildings, &c. Poor rates, sanitary, medical charities, election
expenses, cattle diseases and sundry other charges are paid by the poor
rate, which is levied on the valuation of house or farm property,
consequently the funded property-holder, banks, commercial
establishments pay far less in proportion to business done than the
landholder, who cannot make as much out of a L50 holding as a banker or
publican ought to do out of a house valued at L50. The present agitation
against rents is political, and the rent question has been brought
prominently forward by the leaders with the view of getting the farmers
on their side as the great voting power. It would have been quite
useless their endeavoring to enlist the farmers without promising them
something to their own advantage; but the interest in the land is only a
veil under which the advances for total separation from England can be
made, and will be thrown aside when no further use can be made of it."

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