Ireland, as I saw it: the character, condition, and prospects of the people

Front matter

J

1LOXHI-HV.

IRELAND,

Chapter I. The Voyage

The Preparation . — Early Impressions. — Desire to Travel. — Hesitation. — Going to Sea. — Sea-Sickness. — Grandeur of the Sea. — Art of Sailing.— Faithfulness of Sailors. — Their Hardships.— Influence of Weather.— Individualism. — Infallibility. — Discussions. — Sunday. — Worship.-—Freedom. — Controversy. — Encouraging. - - 9

Chapter II. The Landing

Sight of Land. — Hailed by some Fishermen. — Leave the Snip. — An Irish Hooker.— A Dinner. --The Shore.— Landing. — Kinsale.— To Cork. 29

Chapter III. A Day In Cork

A View of Cork. — A Reflection. — An Unexpected Acquaintance. — Irish Gratitude for American Benevolence. — Mardyke. — An American Ship. — Weariness. — A Lunch. — Various Topics. — A Car ride. — Blarney Castle. — Reflections. — Father Mathew. — Description of the City. 44

Chapter IV. To The West Of Ireland

A Rainy Morning. — Old Castles. — The Conquest of Ireland. — Macroom. — A Living Castle. — Mill-Street. — A Scene of Wretchedness.— A Beautiful Prospect. — Cloghereen. — Sir Richard Courtney. — Turk Falls. — A Grand View, — Potcheen. — Attendants. — A Pedlar. 71

Chapter V. Killarney

A Rural Dwelling. — National Schools. — Ascent of Mangerton. — Devil's Punch Bowl. — Bachelor's Spring. --Mountain Bog.— A Splendid View. — The Descent. — The Lakes. — Dinas Island. — Glena. — Innisfallen. — Ross Castle. — Lord Kenmare. — The Town. — Dinner. - - 99

Chapter VI. A Sunday In Ireland

An Early Walk. — A Grand Scene. — A Lonely Girl. — Character. — Difficulties.— A Remedy. — Sir Richard. — Killarney — A Crowd. — The Church. — A Little Boy. — Leaving. — Bigotry. — A Retrospect. — A Poor Family.— Tralee.— The Church.— The Chances. - - 132

Chapter VII. From Tralee To Limerick

Castle Green. — A Scene of Beggary. — The Cause. — Cashin Bog. — Listowel. — Tarbert. — Middle-men. — Condition of Tenants. — Stir-a-

CONTENTS.

bout. — A Family. — Oppression of Landlords. — Emigrants leaving Home. — The Separation. — Taken for an Englishman. — The Shannon. — A Steamboat. — The Passengers. — The Wrong of Vengeance. — An Ambitious Mother. — A Minstrel. — Scenery. — Glynn. — Bunrutty. — Social Evils. — Useless Agitations. - - - - - 175

Chapter VIII. Limerick

Situation of Limerick. — A Porter. — Railway Station. — Scenes of Sin and Misery. — The Market. — Handsome Women. — Artillery Barracks.— Oppression. — A Wedding. — A Catholic Chapel. — Theory and Practice. — " Spitting." — The Cathedral. — Bishop's Court. — Monuments. — A Fine Landscape. — The Citadel. — History. — Interview with the Prioress of a Nunnery. — National Schools, their Changes and Present Condition. — Reading Room. — Newspapers. — Limerick-Stone.— Gentry. — Beggars. ----- 235

Chapter IX. More Talk Than Travel

Settling a Bill. — The Canal. — O'Brien's Castle. — Falls of the Shannon.—

Castle-Connel. — Tipperary. — Causes of Outrages. — Remedies.

Struggles for Land. — Evictions. — Toomevara. — Intimidations. — Landlords at Fault. — Good Usage makes Good Tenants. — Many Proofs. — American Farmers. — Hints for Englishmen. - - 278

Chapter X. The Upper Shannon

Killaloc. — Lough Derg. — Landing Passengers. — Monopolies. — Holy Islands. — Personal and Moral Beauty. — English Ability to Help Ireland.— Portumna. — Ancient and Modern Works. — Redwood Castle. — Victoria Locke. — A Beautiful Spot. — Bennagher. — War Establishment.— Paying Priests. — Monasteries. — Shannon-Harbor. - - 305

Chapter XI. Dublin

A Canal Boat. — A Conversation Overheard. — British and American Valor. — Personal Liberty essential to Prosperity. — First Principles to be studied. — Individual and Social Responsibility. — The Preparations adequate to a Republic. — Dublin. ----- 342

Chapter XII

TRIAL OF MR. MITCH EL.

A Restless Night. — Domestic Affairs. — Trial of John Mitchel. — The Court. — Mr. Holmes. — His Defence. --The Excitement.— The Military. — Rashness of the Reformers. — Ireland Unfitted for a Republic. — Paying the Catholic Clergy. — Irish Character. — A forcible Repeal impossible.— Origin and Exercise of Power. ----- 379

Chapter XIII

JOURNEY TO THE NORTH Phoenix Park. — Cars. — Scenery. — Drogheda. — Carrickmacross.--A Fair. — Monoghan. — A Conversation. — Bally gawley. — Fintona. — Sunday. — Omagh. — Strabane. — Londonderry. — The Foyle. — Giant's Causeway.— Farewell. 401

INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE.

To my dear Friend :

You ask. mc to publish an account of my travels in the Old World, tor your gratification, and for the instruction of your children. You flatter mc, when you compliment my Letters, and say you " want a book written in my peculiar style — plain, familiar, and off-hand, and yet so minute in its details that others may see what I saw, and feel as I felt."

You impose on me a difficult task, and one I feel myself incapable of performing to my own satisfaction, much less to yours. Still, I am anxious to please you, and willing to help amuse your children ; and, knowing that you will be rather generous than critical, I venture to offer you the following pages on Ireland. Whether other volumes, on other countries, will follow it, depends upon circumstances not wholly under my control. For this, I bespeak your favorable consideration. The numerous calls upon my t;me, the duties of my vocation, and the state of my health, have delayed the appearance of the present work, and prevented me from doing little more than fill up my notes, sketched during such leisure moments as I could find while performing my journey.

I went to see and learn — to gratify myself; and, to refresh my memory in after years, I made as copious notes as possible — jotted down, at the time, such thoughts, impressions, and incidents as occurred to me. I did not take much pains to reckon time or measure proportions, in a way to give minute descriptions. Historical and statistical facts are only introduced to add vividness to the pictures drawn. I traveled neither as philosopher, sage, or poet, but simply as a plain republican, curious to see, and anxious to learn all I could, in a given time.

Of course, I measured every thing by such standard as I had, and pronounced my own judgment upon it. I went not to ape the manners of others — to Europeanize my notions and habits — to be pleased with every thing foreign, and dissatisfied with the plain, homespun habits of our own country. Neither did I carry a bigoted attachment to the customs and institutions under which I was reared. I went without prejudice, and under the influence of a principle broad and deep, which recognizes kings as companions, beggars as equals, and all men as brethren. I carried with me a disposition to i-tudy the true, approve the good, honor the great, and admire the beautiful.

That I love my own country and its liberal institutions, and now, more than ever, I will not deny ; but that does not impair my judgment, nor blind my sense ot justice to other lands ? Are we not all brethren ? Does not one Lord rule over us ? Is it not the dictate of Christianity to rise above all local and national distinctions, in our estimate of right and wrong, of good and evil ? Is not such the dictate of our higher nature ? You will pardon me, then, for the freedom I use. I write *as I think, express what I feel, and describe what I saw.

INTRODUCTORY EI'ISTLE.

I own I have touched "upon some delicate points, trenched upon opinions by sonic held sacred, and described things which might have been let alone, lor which some will condemn, and no body praise me. It is all the same to me, if I have told the truth. Facts will remain, and my opinions go for what they are worth.

I gazed with astonishment and admiration on much I saw, and my heart yearned deeply over the wrongs, oppressions, ignorance, and misery I beheld 1 saw more to approve in the character of the people than I expected, more to lament in their condition, and more to condemn in the operation of aristocratic institutions. But these were undergoing such rapid transformations — every thing was so agitated, so unsettled, that I could do little more than contemplate the past, and catch glimpses of the future through the auguries of the present.

I answer, then, your request, by these brief sketches of what I saw, and as I saw it, and the reflections suggested at the time. You may not see as I saw, nor feel as I felt. In honesty, I can describe nothing different from what it appeared to mc. I had no eyes, no heart but my own. You may dissent irom my conclusions — that is your right ; but you must not impeach my veracity ; for I have tried to be faithful, let praise or condemnation fall where it might.

I have been minute — I hope not tediously so — in all cases where I thought it necessary to a clear apprehension of the case in hand. As you say, " the fault of many books of travel is, they deal too much in generalities, describe great things, make us acquainted with castles and kings, but not with cottages and peasants — as if the writer had seen nothing humble in all his travels." My sympathies have ever been with the " common people," and for their sakes I write. I commenced my journey with a determination to pay particular attention to the condition of the masses — to keep along the side-hill of life, so as to see below as well as above me, and calculate the chances for the improvement of the one, and to amuse myself with the proud displays of the other. I have done both — looked on kings and queens, in their palaces ; eaten " stir-a-bout" with cottiers on the banks of the Shannon ; " butterbrod" with the peasantry of Deutschland, and green figs with the lazzaroniof Italy ; and I have formed my estimate of things as they appeared to me.

Of Ireland, to which country the present volume is devoted, little has been written by American travelers. I therefore venture to supply a work which, I trust, will afford some entertainment and instruction relative to a country of the character and condition of which we have heard much, but known little. Since the composition of these pages, a work entitled " Letters on the Condition of the People of Ireland, by T. Campbell Foster," has fallen into my hands, from which I have made some valuable extracts, and appended them as notes, to sustain the positions I have taken.

I have sought to embody just enough of my personal narrative to keep the reader close by me, and let him know what sort of a companion he is traveling with, that he may form a just estimate of the facts and circumstances detailed, and get a clearer insight into the character, condition, and prospects of the people.

IRELAND.

Chapter I. Crossing The Atlantic

The Preparation. — Early Impressions. — Desire to Travel. — Hesitation. — A Passenger goes Home. — Going to Sea. — Dull Weather. — Sea-sickness. — Grandeur of the Sea. — Art of Sailing. — Faithfulness of Sailors. — Their Hardships. — Influence of Weather. — Individualism. — Infallibility. — Discussions.— Sunday. — Worship. — Freedom. — Controversy. — Encouraging.

Ireland occupies a peculiar position. It is intimately connected with the ancient and the modern. It properly belongs to neither. The ravages of time have demolished the Old, but the spirit of progress has not constructed the New. Nor can it be ranked in the transition series. It is in a state of social and political abnegation. The relics of feudalism are found in abundance among the mouldering ruins of its cloistered abbeys, its tottering castles, and mosscovered cathedrals ; but are more distinctly seen in the extreme wretchedness of its starved, oppressed, and demented population.

Still, faith espies, as in a grave-yard, ethereal specters which shall assume forms of life and beauty ; and hope, clinging to its object, is dug out of the accumulated wrongs of centuries. It requires all the works of the former, and the patience of the latter to endure the sight of present degradation and misery which abound in such odious contrast with the physical beauty and fertility of the country.

The casual observer will stumble upon little to please him or excite his curiosity, except in natural scenery. Objects

RECOLLECTION OF EARLY DAYS.

of loathing will meet him every where; and, if he has no heart to pity, no hand for relief, no far-seeing philanthropy, he will turn back in disgust, none the wiser for having looked upon this dark picture. But if he desires to learn, and has the ability to appreciate the actual condition of a people governed too much, and loved too little, he may here see the most indubitable proofs, and cogent illustrations, lie will find no difficulty in tracing all these miseries to the curse of aristocracy, and the social depravity of the people* and will learn valuable lessons for the regulation of his own conduct. Let us go and see it.

THE PREPARATION.

In my youthful days, I lived among the romantic mountains of my native State. My father's dwelling was situated on a hill-side, with a deep valley opening towards the south-east, down which ran a babbling brook, while along the west, a mile distant, was stretched a frowning ridge of mountains. From the window of my chamber I could look far down that valley, and, in a clear day, see the grand Monadnock, at a distance of fifty miles, towering, in proud and solitary majesty, high above all surrounding objects. In spring and summer I used to see the sun rise up from behind it, and I wondered where it came from. Close by its base lived my maternal grandfather, who, during his patriarchal visits, often told us about that mountain, and the magnificent scenery presented to the viewr of one upon its summit. While listening to him, my young heart burned with a desire to stand on the top of that mountain, and gaze over all the world, which I thought could be easily done from a position so lofty.

In the pasture above the house, to which I was sent daily for the cows, there is a high rock where I have sat with my sisters, hour after hour, gazing over the broad expanse of hills and dales, and drinking in the love of natural scenery, and forming schemes to travel and see the wonders of the world. To the north and east were seen the bold outlines of the Granite Hills, whose undulatin^ summits formed the

INFLUENCE OF SCENERY.

boundary of the visible horizon, and from which stood up the lofty peaks of the Moosehillock, Sunnapee, Kearsarge, and Monadnock, as towers upon pictured ramparts. I wondered what was beyond them. A little to the south of the latter I was shown the Wachusett, and they told me that not far from it was Boston, by the side of a great water, larger than all the land we could see. My father once went to that town, and, when he returned, he told us much about it ; that the houses were made of bricks, and so close together that one touched the other ; that ships as large as the meeting-house were along the side of it ; and that there were more stores than houses, and barns, and sheds in all the town in which we lived. Oh, how I longed to go to that town, and see those ships, and that great sea !

In early spring, my father sometimes allowed me to go, with an older brother, to the " sugar-lot," a mile distant, and near the top of Mount Terrible, which had hitherto limited my vision in that direction. Here was a fine collection of maple trees, from which was manufactured the sugar for the family. When the crust upon the deep snows would bear me, and I was large enough not to fear the bears, and the wolves, and the " quill-shooting " hedgehogs, I would wander off, occasionally, to amuse myself alone. One fine morning I went to the top of the mountain, and, through the naked branches of the forest trees, I caught indistinct glimpses of something beyond. I climbed a scragged spruce, thinking that from the top of it I could see where the sun went down, and where storms of wind, and rain, and thunder came from. What was my surprise when I saw the deep valley of the Wantastiquet, and the main ridge of the Green Mountains, stretching to the north and south further than eye could reach ; with the peaks of other mountains still beyond ! My eyes wandered in all directions over the vast and varied scenery with astonishment and admiration. I had never dreamed the world was half so large ; and now I could not see the end of it. I was not satisfied. The sphere of my imagination was enlarged. My soul was

12 FAVORITE STUDIES.

fired by a fervent desire — which burns even now with increased intensity, after having looked upon the grand and beautiful in my own country — to overleap the barriers which had hitherto limited my ambition, and to explore, unconstrained, the new and wonderful things of earth. I wanted to see where the sun went to rest, and whence it rose, — the chambers from whose windows gleamed his earliest and latest rays. I panted to see the great ocean, and the ships upon it, and the town where the houses touched each other.

Behold the reason why I am now seated in this lone cabin, with the Old World before me, and my friends and country behind !

Reared among such scenes, with few books, and little time to read them, I early learned to love natural scenery. Mountains and valleys, meadows and forests, the beautiful and sublime in nature, were always before me. The naiads and napeae of my mountain home danced about me, and sweetened my solitude with their music. The birds, the speckled trout, and the wild flowers became my companions. But there was in me an instinct they could not charm — a fire that would not go out. I wanted to go into the world and see it. Every hill, and tree, and rock, and rill had become familiar to me, and I longed for something new. With what profound attention I listened to the stories of those who had been about the world, when they talked with my father and detailed what they had seen !

At school, Geography became my favorite study ; and books of travel I devoured with the keenest relish. Every place about which I read was mapped in my mind, and every scene described formed an image which neither time nor care can efface. To me, the most interesting portions of the earth were Greece, and Rome, and the Holy Land. Around the last were clustered the memories and feelings awakened by a perusal of my mother's Bible. Ever since I could read the Holy Book, I have longed to go and see the places where were performed the sacred dramas de-

DESIRE TO TRAVEL.

scribed in its pages ; to climb over Lebanon, and rest in the shadow of its cedars ; to wander through the valley of Esdraelon, and among the hills of Samaria; to wet my feet in the dews of Hermon, and bathe in the floods of Jordan ; to eat fish on the shores of Genesareth, and drink water from Jacob's well ; to repose in the cave of Elijah, and gather roses on the plains of Sharon ; to stand upon Olivet, and look upon the "joy of the whole earth to go through Jerusalem, along the via Dolorosa, to Calvary and the tomb of Arimathea! I have studied hard to understand its descriptive language, that I might rejoice in the blessed truths of the Bible. But there seems to hang a mistiness about its descriptions, accumulated by time, distance, and the peculiar circumstances, which can be dispelled only by a personal examination of the localities over which have been so long spread the shadows of the past. To see, or to touch these objects and find them realities, would remove the last doubt, and every description would become plain and forcible, and seal its truth upon the heart.

Nor was my young ambition confined to the scenes of Jewry, rich as they are in the records of startling events ; for my reading led me to classic Greece and world-conquering Rome, around whose histories there circles a vagueness like that which has fallen on the land of miracles — the scene of man's redemption. As one reads, he desires to see ; and I longed to visit Mars-hill, and the pass of Thermopylae ; to see the ruins of the Eternal city, and its living monuments ; to cross the Alps at St. Bernard, and hear M ass in St. Peter's. The more modern nations, likewise, have their attractions — their temples of pride ; their galleries of art ; their museums of curiosities ; their libraries of printed knowledge ; their old feudal castles ; the working of aristocratic institutions upon the condition of the masses of the people ; these, and a thousand other considerations, whetted my ambition, and led me to form a plan to visit the Old World, which became the study of my days and the dream of my nights. What was a mere aspiration of youth, be-

HESITATION.

came a fixed purpose of maturer age — an object of my life, worthy of much labor, care, and sacrifice, to the accomplishment of which much effort has been directed.

My favored time has come at length ; the preparation has been made. My hesitations have been overcome; — who does not hesitate, when wife, and children, and friends, with heaving hearts, and tearful eyes, and choked voices, cling about to breathe a long, perhaps a last, farewell ; and would, we know, though they say it not, dissuade us from an absence so long, and a journey so dangerous ?

But the last words have been spoken ; the last look, the last signal given ; and our ship is floating on the bay, waiting for wind and tide to carry us out to sea.

GOING TO SEA.

April 27. — The feelings of one's heart, on parting with home, and friends, and country, to venture upon the uncertain sea, and among the turbulent commotions of strange countries, in times like the present, are too profound and intense to find utterance in words. ; and the anguish is made keener by being detained in close proximity to those whom we have left behind, perhaps for ever. We long to return and gladden their hearts, and our own ; to light a smile where we last saw the darkness of sorrow, to utter words we could not speak at parting. The excitement of preparation is all over, and the warm blood curdles about the heart. We feel faint, and sick, and sad. Then comes the real struggle ; affection reproving desire ; duty quarreling with ambition ; the heart warring with the head ; fear growling at courage, and stirring up apprehension to a meddlesome interference with the plans and hopes of years. Hesitation points at assurance, and, like the forlorn rush of an assailant on his foe, makes a last desperate effort to overpower resolution and control judgment. Oh, the bitterness, the misery of such an hour ! Heaven only has recorded the thoughts and feelings of my last night. —

GOING TO SEA.

I feel calm and assured this morning, and am only anxious to start on our voyage.

One of our passengers has been overpowered by apprehension and gone ashore, preferring the security of home to a voyage across the trackless deep. He was a middle-aged man, who had suffered much from sickness. He had been advised by his physician to cross the sea, and he resolved to do so ; but his heart has failed him, and he prefers to return, at the forfeit of his passage money.

At eight o'clock this morning we saw, with satisfaction, the captain and pilot putting off from Castle Garden in a small boat. All was ready to receive them. They came on board, and in an hour we were drifting slowlv down the harbor. A south wind coming up, we were obliged to come to an anchor in the lower bay, where we lay till night, when a favorable breeze set us on our course, and we made Sandy Hook with a single tack ; and passed the lighthouse at half past seven. At eight, we discharged our pilot, and put directly to sea. As long as we could, we gazed through the darkening twilight at the receding shores of our native land ; and when we could trace the dim outline no longer, nor see a twinkle of the beacon light, we raised a prayer to Heaven for ourselves and friends, our home and country, and retired, lonely and sad, to our room, feeling more conscious than ever of the littleness and helplessness of man, and the greatness and goodness of God.

MY JOURNAL.

April 2d. — Yesterday was a dull, dreary day, light wind and little progress. Our spirits were duller than the weather. To-day, we have a clear sky, a warm sun, and a smart breeze. Everything is cheerful, and we are happy. Our affairs are all arranged for the voyage and we begin to feel at home. The Siddons is a good, comfortable ship, and her officers gentlemanly, attentive, and faithful. We have but four cabin passengers, eight or ten in the second cabin,

SEA- SICKNESS.

and as many in the steerage. Ample provision has been made to render our voyage as comfortable and pleasant as possible.

May 2. — A stiff breeze from the south and increasing towards night. The sea rolls heavily, and our ship is tossed about like a very little thing. One passenger begins to complain of illness, looks pale about his lips, and leaves his place at the table vacant. The rest of us keep up good courage, but with a doubtful prospect ahead.

May 6. — Well, it is over, thanks to the milder wind and calmer sea, and I am again on my legs, staring sullenly, and in a stifled rage, at the impertinence of the sea. Four days gone, I can hardly tell how. On the night of the 2d Neptune stretched forth his trident, and demanded of me a sacrifice, for daring to encroach upon his domain. I retired like a sorry penitent to my state-room, to do penance for my temerity ; prostrated myself, and poured out my libations freely upon the dread altar. I was horribly sick for thirty hours. Not until to-day have I felt myself freely and fully forgiven. One of our passengers still lingers at the confessional.

May 7. — Another dark, drizzling day. What is duller than a dull day at sea ! — the wind lulled into a dead calm ; the heavens overcast with thick clouds, which rest down upon the surface of the waters ; the dark swelling waves, murmuring mournfully by. The ship rolls and pitches heavily, her timbers creaking at every joint, and the wet sails flapping lazily, with a most doleful sound. Oh, the tedium of the sea! Its poetry is all gone. It has vanished like the " baseless fabric of a vision." The romance of the sea is all on shore. Seated on some safe, jutting cliff, beneath the spreading branches of a tree, one may dream about the poetry of the " deep blue sea," as its waves come surging to the shore and spend their fury in harmless dashing at his feet. But this eternal tossing, pitching, tumbling, and creaking, of " the house we live in," as if an earthquake were beneath us, and one dash more would rend it to

Gil AN DEL" It OF THE OCEAN.

atoms, and send us to sleep on coral beds below ; the tramp and bawl of the sailors over head ; the dark, damp atmosphere ; the entire prostration of all mental vigor; the utter inability to read, think, talk, or write ; nothing to amuse or comfort ; every expression of sympathy construed into a desire to mock one's sufferings ; all becomes too real, too discordant to admit any play of the imagination, to weave chaplets of poesy with which to wreathe the brow of old ocean. On such a day one gets out of patience with himself and the world, and curses the folly and madness which ever induced him to exchange the security and comfort of home, the close communion of beloved friends, and the thousand sources of enjoyment, for the dulness and misery of a voyage across the sea. But he who would see the wonders of the Old World can not avoid the sacrifice. Happier is he who is content with the freshness and prosperity of the New.

May 9. — Encouraging. By the captain's reckoning, we are half way across the Atlantic. The sea is calm, the sky is clear, the wind favorable, and we are careering on in fine stvle. What an influence the outer world has over the spirit of man ! How close and intricate, is the connexion of soul and body ; and how inwoven are the powers which play upon each other ! Two days ago, all was regret, and gloom, and apprehension. To-day, everything is full of cheer, and hope, and happiness. Nothing but necessity could force us backward from our purpose. The clouds are cleared away from the mental horizon, and 1 can look upon the sublimity and awful grandeur of this vast wilderness of waters wilh the profoundest admiration and delight. Around, above, beneath, are manifest the mighty works of him " who spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth upon the waves of the sea.'"' " who hath gathered the wind in his fists,"' and "stilleth the noise of the sea. the noise of the waves, and the tumult of the people.'' I can now realize, as I never could before, the force and beauty of the Psalmist's words, where he says : u They that go down tu the sea in ships,