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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I hear many take the part of the landlords in this manner: "You are
sorry for the tenants, who certainly have some cause of complaint; can
you not spare some sympathy for the landlords who bought these lands at
a high figure, often borrowing the money to buy them and are getting no
return for the money invested?"

Land hunger is a disease that does not attack the tenants alone. The
poor man hungers for land to have the means of living; the rich man
hungers for land because it confers rank, power and position. As soon as
men have realized fortunes in trade they hasten to invest in land. That
is the door by which they hope to enter into the privileged classes. Men
accustomed to "cut things fine," in a mercantile way, are not likely to
except a land purchase from the list of things which are to pay cent.
per cent. The tenant has created a certain amount of prosperity, the new
landlord looks at the present letting value of the land and raises the
rent. This proceeding extinguishes or rather appropriates the Tenant
Right. The landlord thinks he is doing no wrong, for, is he not actually
charging less than Lord So-and-so, or Sir Somebody or other? which is
perhaps very true. All this time the tenant knows he has been robbed of
the result of years, perhaps of generations of hard and continuous
labor. It is impossible to make such a landlord and such a tenant see
eye to eye.

A gentleman asked a lady of Donegal if she would shut out the landlord
from all participation in profits arising from improvements and
consequent increase in the value of the land. I listened for the answer.
"I would give the landlord the profits of all improvements he actually
made by his own outlay; I would not give him the profits arising from
the tenant's labor and means." Now I thought this fair, but the
gentleman did not. He thought that all profit arising from improvements
made by the tenant, should revert to the landlord after a certain time.
I could not think that just.

As a case in point, a brother of Sir Augustus Stewart said to a Ramelton
tenant:

"My brother does not get much profit from the town of Ramelton."

"He gets all he is entitled to, his ground rent, we built the houses
ourselves," was the answer.

These people are safe, having a secure title, not trusting to the Ulster
Custom or the landlords' sense of justice.

I have not been much among landlords. I did sit in the library of a
landlord, and his lady told me of the excessively picturesque poverty
prevailing in some parts, citing as an instance that a baby was nursed
on potatoes bruised in water, the mother having hired out as wet-nurse
to help to pay the rent. There was no cow and no milk. I had a graphic
description of this family, their cabin, their manner of eating. The
mother cannot earn the rent any longer and they are to be evicted. I was
told they were quite able to pay, but trusting to the Land League had
refused.

Naturally what I have seen and heard among the poor of my people, has
influenced my mind. I could not see what I did see and hear what I did
hear of the tyranny wrought by the late Earl of Leitrim, and the present
Captain Dobbing, or walk through the desolation created by Mr. Adair,
without feeling sad, sorry and indignant.

XX.

LORD LIFFORD--THE DUKE OF ABERCORN--WHOLESALE EVICTIONS--GOING SOUTH--
ENNISKILLEN--ASSES IN PLENTY--IN A GRAVEYARD.

On the banks of the Finn, near Strabane, was born the celebrated hero
Finn ma Coul. I think this just means Finlay McDougall, and, therefore,
claim the champion as a relative. Strabane lies in a valley, with round
cultivated hills, fair and pleasant to the eye, swelling up round it.
Near it is the residence of Lord Lifford. I have heard townspeople
praise him as a landlord, and country people censure him, so I leave it
there. His recent speech, in which he complains of the new Land Bill,
that, if it passes into law, it will give tenants as a right what they
used to get as a favor from their landlords, has the effect of
explaining him to many minds.

Leaving Strabane behind, went down or up, I know not which, to Newtown-
Stewart, in the parish of Ardstraw (_ard strahe_, high bank of the
river). In this neighborhood is the residence of the Duke of Abercorn,
spoken of as a model landlord.

The Glenelly water mingles with the Struell and is joined by the Derg,
which forms the Mourne. After the Mourne receives the Finn at Lifford it
assumes the name of the Foyle and flows into history past Derry's walls.

At the bridge, as you enter the town of Newtown-Stewart, stands the
gable wall of a ruined castle, built by Sir Robert Newcomen, 1619,
burned by Sir Phelim Roe O'Neil along with the town, rebuilt by Lord
Mountjoy, burnt again by King James.

Upon a high hill above the town, commanding a beautiful view of the
country far and wide, stand the ruins of the castle of Harry Awry O'Neil
(contentious or cross Harry), an arch between two ruined towers being
the only distinct feature left of what was once a great castle. This
castle commanded a view of two other castles, owned and inhabited by two
sons or two brothers of this Harry Awry O'Neil. These three castles were
separate each from each by a river. Here these three lords of the O'Neil
slept, lived and agreed, or quarrelled as the case might be, ruling over
a fair domain of this fair country. I do not think the present
generation need feel more than a sentimental regret after the days of
strong castles and many of them, and hands red with unlimited warfare.

Towering up beyond Harry Awry's castle is the high mountain of Baissie
Baal, interpreted to me altar of Baal. I should think it would mean
death of Baal. (Was Baal ever the same as Tommuz, the Adonis of
Scripture?) In the valley beyond is a village still named Beltane (Baal
teine--Baal's fire), so that the mountain must have been used at one
time for the worship of Baal. The name of the mountain is now corrupted
into Bessie Bell.

In the valley at the foot of the mountain is the grand plantation that
stretches miles and miles away, embosoming Baronscourt, the seat of the
Duke of Abercorn, and the way to it in the shade of young forests. There
are nodding firs and feathery larches over the hills, glassing
themselves in the still waters of beautiful lakes. Lonely grandeur and
stately desolation reign and brood over a scene instinct with peasant
life and peasant labor some years ago. The Duke of Abercorn was counted
a model landlord. His published utterances were genial, such as a good
landlord, father and protector of his people would utter. Some one who
thought His Grace of Abercorn was sailing under false colors, that his
public utterances and private course of action were far apart, published
an article in a Dublin paper. This article stated that the Duke had
evicted over 123 families, numbering over 1,000 souls, not for non-
payment of rent, but to create the lordly loneliness about Baronscourt.
His Grace did not like tenantry so near his residence. Those tenants who
submitted quietly got five years' rent--not as a right, but as a favor
given out of his goodness of heart. They tell here that these evictions
involved accidentally the priest of the parish and an old woman over
ninety, who lay on her death-bed. He had called upon the priest
personally and offered ground for a parochial house; he forgot his
purpose and the priest continued to live in lodgings from which he was
evicted along with the farmer with whom he lodged. Of the evicted
families 87 were Catholics and 36 Protestants. If they had been allowed
to sell their tenant right they might have got farms elsewhere. Of those
cleared off seventeen who were Protestants and six who were Catholics
got farms elsewhere from His Grace. Some sank into day laborers, some
vanished, no one knows where.

People here say that the reason why there are Fenians in America and
people inclined to Fenianism at home is owing to these large evictions--
clearances that make farmers into day laborers at the will of the lord
of the land. The people feel more bitterly about these things when they
consider injustice is perpetrated with a semblance of generosity.
Nothing--no lapse of time nor change of place or circumstances--ever
causes anyone to forget an eviction. Now they say that the Duke of
Abercorn holds this immense tract of country on the condition of rooting
the people in the soil by long leases, not on condition of evicting them
out; therefore, he has forfeited his claim to the lands over and over
again. This article, published in a Dublin paper, was taken no public
notice of for a time, but when sharply contested elections came round,
the Duke and four others, sons and relations, were rejected at the polls
because of the feeling stirred up by these revelations. Such is the
popular report of the popular Duke of Abercorn.

Omagh is a pretty, behind-the-age country town. The most splendid
buildings are the poor-house, the prison, and the new barracks. The
hotels are very dear everywhere; they seem to depend for existence on
commercial travellers and tourists. Tourists are expected to be prepared
to drop money as the child of the fairy tale dropped pearls and
diamonds, on every possible occasion, and unless one is able to assert
themselves they are liable to be let severely alone as far as comfort is
concerned, or attendance; but when the _douceur_ is expected plenty
are on hand and smile serenely.

Left Omagh behind and took passage for Fermanagh's capital, Enniskillen
of dragoon celebrity. The road from Omagh to Enniskillen showed some, I
would say a good deal, of waste, unproductive land. Land tufted with
rushes, and bare and barren looking--still the fields tilled were
scrupulously tilled. The houses were the worst I had yet seen on the
line of rail, as bad as in the mountains of Donegal, worse than any I
saw in Innishowen. I wonder why the fields are so trim and the homes in
many cases so horrible. Not many, I may say not any, fine houses on this
stretch of country.

Arrived at Enniskillen on market day, towards the close of April. The
number of asses on the market is something marvellous. Asses in small
carts driven by old women in mutch caps, asses with panniers, the
harness entirely made of straw, asses with burdens on their backs laid
over a sort of pillion of straw. I thought asses flourished at Cairo and
Dover, but certainly Enniskillen has its own share of them. The faces of
the people are changed, the tongues are changed. The people do not seem
of the same race as they that peopled the mountains of Donegal.

A little while after my arrival, taking a walk, I wandered into an old
graveyard round an old church which opened off the main street.
Underneath this church is the vault or place of burial of the Cole
family, lords of Enniskillen--a dreary place, closed in by a gloomy
iron gate. A very ancient man was digging a grave in this old graveyard,
sacred, I could see by the inscriptions, to the memory of many of the
stout-hearted men planted in Enniskillen, who held the land they had
settled on against all odds in a brave, stout-hearted manner. None of
the dust of the ancient race has mouldered here side by side with their
conquerors. There was a dragoonist flavor about the dust; a military
flourish about the tombstones. A., of His Majesty's regiment; B.,
officer of such a battalion of His Majesty's so-and-so regiment; C., D.,
and all the rest of the alphabet, once grand officers in His Majesty's
service, now dust here as the royal majesties they served are dust
elsewhere. Went over to the ancient grave-digger, who was shovelling out
in a weakly manner decayed coffin, skull, ribs, bones, fat earth--so fat
and greasy-looking, so alive with horrible worms. He was so very old and
infirm that, after a shovelful or two, he leaned against the grave side
and _peched_ like a horse with the heaves.

"How much did he get for digging a grave?"

"Sometimes a shilling, sometimes one and six, or two shillings,
accordin' as the people were poor or better off."

"How were wages going?"

"Wages were not so high as they had been in the good times before the
famine. A man sometimes got three-and-six or four shillings then; now he
got two shillings."

"And board himself?"

"Oh, yes, always board himself."

"Some people now want a man to work for a shilling and board himself,
but how could a man do that? It takes two pence to buy Indian meal
enough for one meal. You see there would be nothing left to feed a
family on."

A stout, bare-legged hizzie appeared now, and kindly offered the old man
a pinch of snuff out of a little paper to overcome the effects of the
smell, and keep it from striking into his heart. This was one errand; to
find out who was talking to him was another. She did not; we gave the
poor old fellow a sixpence and moved away.

XXI.

ENNISKILLEN MILITARY PRIDE--THE BOYS CALLED SOLDIERS--REMNANTS OF BY-
GONE POWER--ISLAND OF DEVENISH--A ROUND TOWER--AN ANCIENT CROSS--THE
COLE FAMILY

Owing to the very great kindness of Mr. Trimble, editor of the
Fermanagh Reporter, we have seen some of the fair town of Enniskillen.
Knowing that Innis or Ennis always means island, I was not surprised to
find that Enniskillen sits on an island, and is connected with the
mainland by a bridge at either end of the town. Of course, the town has
boiled over and spread beyond the bridges, as Derry has done over and
beyond her walls. There is a military flavor all over Enniskillen, a
kind of dashing frank manner and proud steps as if the dragoon had got
into the blood. There is also nourished a pride in the exploits of
Enniskillen men from the early times when they struggled to keep their
feet and their lives in the new land. They feel pride in the fame of the
Enniskillen dragoon, in the deeds of daring and valor of the 27th
Enniskilleners all over the world. Enniskillen military pride is closely
connected with the Cole family, lords of Enniskillen.

The town is not old, only dating back to the reign of the sapient James
the First. Remembrance of the sept of Maguires who ruled here before
that time, still lingers among the country people.

Had a sail on Lough Erne at the last of April; tried to find words
sufficiently strong to express the beauty of the lake and found none. It
is as lovely as the Allumette up at Pembroke. I can not say more than
that. The banks are so richly green, the hills so fertile up to their
round tops, checked off by green hedges into fields of all shapes and
sizes; the trees lift up their proud heads and fling out their great
arms as if laden with blessing; the primroses, like baby moons, more in
number than the stars of heaven, glow under every hedge and gem every
bank, so that though the Lake Allumette is as lovely as Lough Erne, yet
the banks that sit round Lough Erne are more lovely by far than the
borders of Lake Allumette. They are as fair as any spot under heaven in
their brightness of green.

Sailing up the lake or down, I do not know which, we passed the ruins of
Portora old castle; ruined towers and battered walls, roofless and
lonely. Kind is the ivy green to the old remnants of by-gone power or
monuments of by-gone oppression, happing up the cold stones, and draping
gracefully the bare ruins.

The Island of Devenish, or of the ox, is famed for the good quality of
its grass. Here we saw the ruins of an abbey. It has been a very large
building, said to have been built as far back as 563. The ruins show it
to have been built by very much better workmen than built the more
modern Green Castle in Innishowen. The arches are of hewn stone and are
very beautifully done without the appearance of cement or mortar. The
round tower, the first I ever saw, was a wonderful sight to me. It is 76
feet high, and 41 in circumference. The walls, three feet thick, built
with scarcely any mortar, are of hewn stone, and I wondered at the skill
that rounded the tower so perfectly. The conical roof is (or was)
finished with one large stone shaped like a bell; four windows near the
top opposite the cardinal points. There is a belt of ribbed stone round
the top below the roof, with four faces carved on it over the four
windows. Advocates of the theory that the round towers were built for
Christian purposes have decided that there are three masculine, and one
feminine face, being the faces of St. Molaisse, the founder of the
abbey; St. Patrick, St. Colombkill and St. Bridget.

Near the round tower is the ruins of what was once a beautiful church.
The stone work which remains is wonderfully fine. The remaining window,
framed of hewn stone wrought into a rich, deep moulding, seems never to
have been intended for glass. It is but a narrow slit on the outside,
though wide in the inside. There are the remains of two cloistered
cells, one above another, very small, roofed and floored with stone,
belonging to a building adjoining the church. Climbed up the little
triangular steps of stone that led into the belfry tower, and looked
forth from the tower windows over woodland hill, green carpet and blue
waters, with a blessing in my heart for the fair land, and an earnest
wish for the good of its people.

There is in the old churchyard one of the fair, skilfully carved,
ancient crosses to be found in Ireland. It was shattered and cast down,
but has been restored through the care of the Government. It is very
high and massive, yet light-looking, it is so well proportioned. There
are pictures of scriptural subjects, Adam and Eve, David and Goliath,
&c., carved in relief over it. Two I saw at Ennishowen had no
inscription or carving at all.

The Government has built a wall around these fine ruins for their
protection from wanton destruction. It takes proof of the kind afforded
by these ruins to convince this unbelieving generation that the ancient
Irish were skilled carvers on stone, and architects of no mean order. I
have looked into some of what has been said as to the uses for which the
round towers were built with the result of confusing my mind hopelessly,
and convincing myself that I do not know any more than when I began,
which was nothing. I am glad, however, that I saw the outside of this
round tower. I saw not the inside, as the door is nine feet from the
ground and ladders are not handy to carry about with one.

XXII.

THE EARL OF ENNISKILLEN AND HIS TENANTS--CAUSES OF DISSATISFACTION--
SPREAD OF THE LAND LEAGUE AMONGST ENNISKILLEN ORANGEMEN--A SAMPLE
GRIEVANCE--THE AGENTS' COMMISSION--A LINK THAT NEEDS STRENGTHENING--THE
LANDLORD'S SIDE.

It seems a great pity that the attachment between the Earl of
Enniskillen and his tenants should suffer interruption or be in danger
of passing away. The Earl, now an old man, was much loved by his people,
until, in a day evil alike for him and for his tenants, he got a new
agent from the County Sligo. Of course, I am telling the tale as it was
told to me. Since this agent came on the property, re-valuation, rent
raising, vexatious office rules, have been the order of things on the
estate. The result of this new state of things, has been that the Land
League has spread among the tenants like wildfire. I did not feel
inclined to take these statements without a grain of salt. To hear of
the Land League spreading among Enniskillen Orangemen, among the Earl's
tenants, of dissatisfaction creeping in between these people
historically loyal and attached to a family who had been their chiefs
and landlords for centuries, was surprising to me.

To convince me that such was the case, I was requested to listen to one
of the Earl's tenants reciting the story of his grievances at the hands
of the Earl's agent. It was a sample case, I was told, and would explain
why the people joined the Land League. It was pleasant enough to have an
opportunity of going into the country and to have an opportunity of
seeing the farms and the style of living of the Fermanagh farmers, as
compared with the Donegal highlands.

The country out of Enniskillen is very pretty. May has now opened, the
hedges have leafed out and the trees are beginning lazily to unfold
their leaves. The roads are not near so good as the roads in Donegal,
which are a legacy from the dreary famine time, being made then. The
hedges are not by any means so trim and well kept as the hedges by the
wayside in Down or Antrim. The roads up to the farm houses are lanes,
such as I remember when I was a child. The nuisances of dunghills near
the doors of the farmhouses have been utterly abolished for sanitary
reasons, also whitewashing is an obligation imposed by the Government.
For these improvements I have heard the authorities both praised and
thanked. In these times of discontent, it is well to see the Government
thanked for anything. The country is hilly and the hills have a uniform
round topped appearance, marked off into fields that run up to the hill
tops and over them and down the other side. There are, of course,
mountains in the distance, wrapped in a thick veil of blue haze.

The house to which I was bound was, like most of the farm houses, long,
narrow, whitewashed, a room at each end and the kitchen in the middle. I
will now let the farmer tell his grievances in his own words. He is
about sixty years of age, a professor of religion of the Methodist
persuasion, an Orangeman, and a hereditary tenant of Lord Enniskillen,
and now an enthusiastic adherent of the Land League. "In 1844 I bought
this farm--two years before I was married. There is 17-1/2 acres. I paid
L184 as tenant right--that is, for the goodwill of it. The rent was L19
7s 4d. I should have gone to America then; it would have been better for
me. I have often rued that I did not go, but, you see, I was attached to
the place. My forbears kindled the first fire that ever was kindled on
the land I live on. I held my farm on a lease for three lives; two were
gone when I bought it. I have been a hard-working man, and a sober man.
There is not a man in the country has been a greater slave to work than
I have been. I drained this place (fetches down a map of the little
holding to show the drains). It is seamed with drains; 11 acres out of
17-1/2 acres are drained, the drains twenty-one feet apart and three
feet deep. Drew stone for the drains two miles, L100 would not at all
pay me for the drainage I have done. I built a parlor end to my house,
and a kitchen; also, a dairy, barn, byre, stable and pig house. Every
year I have bought and drawn in from Enniskillen from sixty to one
hundred loads of manure for my farm; this calculation is inside of the
amount. I have toiled here year after year, and raised a family in
credit and decency. When the last life in my lease died, my rent was
immediately raised to L27 10s. I paid this for a few years, and then the
seasons were bad, and I fell behind. It was not a fair rent, that was
the reason I was unable to pay it. I complained of the rent. I wanted it
fixed by arbitration; that was refused. I asked for arbitration to
decide what compensation I had a right to, and I would leave; that was
refused too. I was served with a writ of ejectment. The rent was lowered
a pound at two different times, but the law expenses connected with the
writ came to more than the reduction given. I had the privilege, along
with others, of cutting turf on a bog attached to the place at the time
I held the lease; that was taken from us. We had then to pay a special
rate for cutting turf, called turbary, in addition to our rent. So that
really I am struggling under a higher rent than before, while I have the
name of having my rent lowered: I once was able to lay by a little money
during the good times; that is all gone now. I am getting up in years.
If I am evicted for a rent I cannot pay, I cannot sell my tenant right;
I will be set on the world at my age without anything. I joined the Land
League. At the time of an election it was cast up to Lord Enniskillen
about taking from us the bog. It was promised to us that we should have
it back, in these words: 'If there is a turf there you will get it.'
After the election we petitioned for the bog, and were refused. We were
told our petition had a lie on the face of it. It is the present agent,
Mr. Smith, that has done all this. He is the cause of all the ill-
feeling between the Earl of Enniskillen and his tenants. He has raised
the rents L3,000 on the estate, I am told. He gets one shilling in the
pound off the rent; that is the way in which he is paid; so it is little
wonder that he raises the rents; it is his interest to do so."

I listened to this man tell his story with many strong expressions of
feeling, many a hand clench, and saw he was moved to tears; saw the
hereditary Enniskillen blood rise, the heart that once throbbed
responsive to the loyalty felt for the Enniskillen family now surging up
against them passionately. I thought sadly that the loss was more than
the gain. Gain L3,000--loss, the hearts that would have bucklered the
Earl of Enniskillen, and followed him, as their fathers followed his
fathers, to danger and to death. I decided in my own mind that Mr.
Smith's agency had been a dear bargain to the Enniskillen family. "The
beginning of strife is like the letting out of water; therefore, leave
off contention before it be meddled with."

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