Wild sports of the West : interspersed with legendary tales and local sketches

Front matter

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Contents

Se CHAPTER I. PAGE CHAPTER X.

i ibe te aes . Salmon-fishing described — Draughting — a adi Z Fishing precarious—Change of Season CHAPTER II. and Condition—Poaching—Private Distila! s lation—Size and Weight of Salmon—Sir Lees arp acee cy Connaught ae H. Davy—Migration of Salmon—Natural graphieal and Moral Description Bal HistorysAmendotes sand akenaeiee ame

linasloe—A Virtuousand Flourishing Town a ory: a0 P —A Bible Meeting and Radical Reform . 11 ema oalmones * : . :

Chapter I. Autobiography

London, July 1st, 1829.

NOTWITHSTANDING its dust and desertion, I am still lurking in the metropolis. The heat has become intolerable—yesterday, I imagined myself in Calcutta—for never but in the land of curries and red pepper did I experience anything so oppressive.

I breakfasted this morning at the Club-house. My air and attitude, as I caught a glimpse of them in a concave mirror, looked exquisitely disconsolate. Never was mortal more exmuyé thanI. Town has become adesert —the world has abandoned it by general consent —the streets feel as if they had béen recently fanned by a sirocco; and of divers unhappy beings whom I encountered in my walk from Grafton-street to St. James’s, none seemed at ease but a bilious gentleman from Bombay, and the French fellow who exhibits in the oven. The thermometer, in a shaded corner of the room, is stationary at 82°. To remain longer here would be suicidal; but, where to go—whither to fly—alas ! I know not.

Would that you were near me, then should I be certain of sympathy and counsel—for at this moment, theré is not a more persecuted gentleman in the King’s dominions. But I will make a clean breast—and to render my confessions explanatory, I must favour you with some particulars of my private history.

As autobiographers enjoy a prescriptive privilege of exhibiting their ancestors, I shall take the liberty of introducing my papa. In his twenty-second year, Mr. Hector O’Brien . was a bold Lieutenant of Grenadiers in his Majesty’s 50th Foot, then distinguished by the flattering title of “The Dirty Half Hundred.”* My father was a strapping fellow as ever wore a wing, kept a showy horse, and was decidedly the best dancer in the regiment. Being quartered in the vicinity of Bath, he attended the assemblies, and ‘in double quick” managed to effect a conquest. The lady had a fortune, and my father required one. Un

* From their black facings, the 50th received this sobriquet.”

| luckily she | gain; /moved by importunity, and deaf to “every plea of love.” | Wamsley disliked Ireland, detested military men, and above all things, abominated ‘‘ The Dirty Half Hundred.’

had a brother’s consent to and on being consulted, he was un-

The case was hopeless. Mr.

To account for the gentleman’s Streaky. to this celebrated corps, it will be necessary to remark that the regiment was then afflicted with a mad Major. His, the Major’s, delight, lay in drinking port wine and slaying pheasants. Mr. Wamsley, on the contrary, preferred water and preserved game. The Major beat up preserves ‘without remorse, and deforced keepers who, though good men and true, prudently declined joining issue with mad Majors and double-barrelled guns. Now Mr. Wamsley resisting an invasion of his rights, applied to the Justice for redress, whereas Major O’Farrell considered that a reference to the pistol would be much more gentlemanly—a deadly feud was the consequence, and Mr. Wamsley was closely blockaded within his park walls by the military delinquent. Fortunately for all concemed, the regiment got the route; Mr. Wamsley recovered his liberty, and his detestation of the gallant 50th only ended with his life.

But his sister held a very different opinion respecting the merits of the brave “ Half Hundred.” She was devoted to the Licutenant of Grenadiers, and the route hurried matters to a crisis. The result, may be anticipated. Despising park walls and surly keepers, Mr. O’Brien overcame every difficulty, and with the assistance of a garden-ladder, the mad Major and his double-barrelled gun, he carried off the Lae and at Gretna they became “one flesh.”

Mr. Wamsley was irritated beyond the possibility of being appeased. Ten thousand pounds, which his wife possessed without thé control of her brother, enabled my father to leave the army, and settle on his hereditary estate in Roscommon; and there he hunted, shot, fished, and farmed, and lived just as Jrish gentlemen lived some thirty years,ago.

I was the only issue of the marriage. All communication had ceased between my parents and Mr. Wamsley, and eighteen years passed away, and no appearance of abated displeasure had ever been evinced by this implacable relative. I left a public school for the Dublin University, was destined for the church, and had nearly completed my college | course, when an unforeseen event changed my’ prospects and profession. It was the death } of both my parents within the brief space of a month.

My father’s affairs were in great disorder —his estate was heavily embarrassed, and if his debts were paid, it was ascertained that | I should be left nearly destitute. The intelligence reached Mr. Wamsley, and to the astonishment of all acquainted with his unrelenting animosity to my deceased parents, | a letter was received from him, inviting me to visit him at his magnificent place, Lalworth Castle. |

The invitation was of course accepted. I arrived, and found him a stern, disagreeable old man. My first appearance was against me —for the resemblance I bore to my father was most striking, and it seemed to recall my uncle’s long-cherished prejudices, He abruptly asked me on the succeeding morning, ‘‘ What course of life I had selected?” I replied, “That the army-appeared best adapted to my taste and broken fortunes” His only obserwas, ‘‘Be it so;” and here this laconic conversation ended.

That evening, Mr. Wamsley wrote to his neighbour, Lord Ulverston. The peer was his debtor toa large amount, and generally trafficked with him for his borough of ——bury. My uncle’s request was promptly attended to. Lord Ulverston stood well at the Horse Guards; and in a few weeks, to my unfeigned satisfaction and surprise, I was gazetted toa Cornetcy in the Blues.

But my joy at this event was but of short duration. The miserly disposition of my uncle took alarm at the large outlay attendant on entering an expensive corps. Each hundred was doled out with painful reluctance, and the knowledge that a certain annual allowance would be requisite for my support, made him still more wretched, I joined the regiment ; my subsidies—generally drafts for a paltry fifty —were ‘‘few and far between.’ To hold a

| certain place in society, with an income incompetent to its expenses, is a state of inexpressible misery. -Gradually I became, embarrassed, and in two years found it necessary to exchange from the Blues to a Light Cavalry regiment, then stationed in the East Indies. My uncle made no objection ; he was tired of what he termed supplying my boundless extravagance, bade me a cold farewell, and his parting words, as I stepped into the carriage, were a request that I would ‘write but seldom, as postage from the East, his lawyer told him, was enormous.”

I obeyed him to the letter, I only wrote once, and that was conveying an entreaty that he would purchase a majority likely to become vacant; I got a coarse refusal, and thus our correspondence terminated. For four years I never heard from him, and had nearly forgotten that I had left a relation behind me. ~

I was surprised, however, at this distant period with a letter, worded in his stiff and peculiar style. It briefly stated that his health was indifferent, and that he would recommend me to return to Europe with as little delay as possible.

This recommendation was anything but gratifying. I liked India well enough—the climate agreed with me—my health was unimpaired—the mess was good—the regiment gentlemanly—and_ better still, I could live most comfortably upon my pay. I felt, however, that my uncle’s invitation should not be neglected ; applied for leave; succeeded, and made immediate preparation for a return to Europe. My brother officers congratulated me on my good fortune in so speedily revisiting my native country ; but to me it was a subject of regret. I was leaving pleasant quarters, cheerful society, and comparative independence, to become a slave to the caprice and ill-humour of a morose and splenetic invalid.

It was late in December when I landed at Portsmouth. The voyage had been remarkably quick, and without delay I started for my uncle’s residence, and in the gloom of a wet wintry evening re-entered the gates of Lalworth Park. I looked down the long vista of splendid elms, but in the twilight the house was not visible ; nota candle glanced from a window, and no indication of its being inhabited appeared about this melancholy mansion. The postboy stopped—I alighted, ran up the steps and rang gently—no one answered—I rang again—louder yet—and a step came ‘hastily over the oaken floor. The old porter at last approached, cautiously affixed the chain, opened a few inches of the door, and raised his candle suspiciously to examine the late visitor. Instantly recollecting me, he uttered a suppressive exclamation of astonishment, remoyed the fastenings, and muttered, “Thank God, it is himself!’ and, as he admitted me, whispered that my uncle was not expected to survive till midnight.

In silence I was conducted to a back drawing-room, where, on a large, old-fashioned sofa the dying man was laid. The porter advanced before, and in a low voice notified my atrival. The news appeared to gratify the invalid; he turned his dim eyes to the spot where I stood waiting for permission to advance. ‘Are you there, Frank!” he said in a feeble voice—‘‘ Ha, ha, ha! it was touch and go with you!” and he uttered a weak and sarcastic laugh.—‘‘ Call Doctor Dodwell and the lawyer—desire them to bring the other wid/—and tell Moore and Hubert to attend to witness it.’”” While he gave these orders, I gazed on the wasted features of the dying miser, and there was a strange expression of stern satisfaction visible on his countenance, as his cold glance rested fixedly on me. Immediately the doctor, solicitor, and witnesses entered the room.— Raise me up,” he said to the ancient domestic, his personal attendant. It was done, and he motioned to the solicitor to unfold the parchment. Carefully he passed his eye over the surface to assure himself that the document was the one he required, and having ascertained the fact, he | pointed toa pen. With difficulty he placed it in his trembling fingers, and with a painful exertion, affixed his signature to the deed— then looking at the witnesses as they annexed their names—“ This is my last will and testament,” he said with a feeble emphasis, ‘and thus do I revoke all others! ”’—then turning to me, while a ghastly smile overspread his face, ‘‘ Half an hour later would have served hospitals and almshouses, Francis:” he leaned himself back and expired without a struggle.

For a few moments we were not aware that he was dead; the strength with which his last remark was uttered led us at first to believe that he had reclined in consequence of the exertion. In a few minutes the physician took his hand and sought for a pulse, but in vain ; he raised the eyelid and applied a candle to the fixed and deadly stare, and then announced that the patient had departed.

A scene, a disgusting scene ensued; the attorney, when certified of his client’s death, seized my hand and coarsely congratulated me on my good fortune. The doctor abandoned the corpse to join the solicitor in his compliments—and between them the truth transpired. Thad, indeed, been luckily expeditious in my journey, and the old man’s phrase of touch and ‘go, was fully explained. The previous day he had signed a testament conveying his entire property to a variety of charitable institutions; and the will which had been originally made in my favour, and been kept over by this singular relative, would have remained imperfect, had I not so providentially arrived the evening of his death.

We left the room while the body was being laid out preparatory to interment. What a turn one hour had given to my fortunes! I entered Lalworth Park at four o’clock, a poor miserable dependant ; at five, I was master of all around me, possessed of twelve thousand pounds a year, owner of a borough, with fifty | thousand in the funds and twenty at my banker’s. Such a mingled yarn is the web of human life,

The obsequies of my uncle were duly performed, and for many days I was engaged in examining papers, and taking possession of the plate and valuables of Lalworth Park. The house was sadly out of repair, and the grounds and gardens utterly neglected. The old man had limited the fuel for the mansion to such fallen wood as could be collected throughout the domain; and the few domestics he employed were scarcely sufficient to ventilate, without attempting to keep in order the numerous and once splendid apartments. For some time I was busily occupied; I hired additional servants, engaged.an architect, fiated my agent’s accounts, and. started then for London as soon as a decent respect towards the deceased would permit my appearing in the metropolis. Of the rest, my dear Baronet, you know sufficient particulars; a presentable man, 0/7 in the Blues, and recently succeeding to a large and unencumbered property, would soon ‘find room in any place.’’ I was speedily admitted to those chosen circles which are impassable to those who want birth, impudence, or money. I ran the full round of dissi but, on this head, you, my constant companion, require but little information.

Ta human life, George, every thing has its limits. I am probably too rich to be permanently happy. I tired of Brookes’s and Willis’s

OF THE WEST.

and Crockford’s: I had little taste for the play, and betted moderately, and with even success: if I lost I was not depressed: if I won I was not exhilarated. The season was drawing to its close, and I began to discover that I was not fated to escape from sublunary annoyances. Iwas bored by the dull dinners of stupid placemen who calculated on my borough ; I was persecuted by ancient gentlewomen who wished to rid themselves of daughters that years ago were fassées; a young and titled widow almost wooed me to desperation; and the Dowager of shocked me by an assurance that Lord Leatherby expected, from my marked attention at the Horticultural féte, that I would forthwith propose for that sandy-haired fright his daughter. God help me! little did I suppose that an act of common humanity, in sheltering her red ringlets with a broken umbrella, would have been thus tortured by that leaden headed Lord her sire !

I forgot in its proper place to notify an important occurrence; it was the death of Mr. James Jones. This personage was owner of a property in Surinam, and one of the represen tatives for the borough of bury. A year before his death my late uncle had pocketed three thousand pounds, and returned as inoffensive a gentleman as ever snored upon the benches of St. Stephen’s.. I took his place, next the oaths, and had sufficient grace to sit quiet and listen to other declaimers, who possessed more talent or more impudence than myself. For some time I was rather undecided in my politics; but the Ministerial were the quieter benches,—there I established myself, and for half a session none slept through a debate with a quieter conscience—but curse upon blighted beauty, I was not permitted to remain in happy and unambitious celibacy.

From my first appearance I had been exposed to distant attacks, but as the weather warmed and the town thinned, my persecutors became more daring in their approaches. Did Iventure to a Refugee concert, there I was waylaid by the widow. Did I endeavour to stéal a ride in Rotten-row, I was directly hunted off by the dame rouge and that infernal Peer her father ; and all that was penniless or pase? marked me as an object of unrelenting importunity. Eventually, I was driven from every place approachable by woman, and having no other refuge, tumed to the turf, and engaged myself deeply in the Derby.

That event is over, and I shall write the man

‘mine enemy ’’ who ever recalls it to my recollection—but as this is a confession to thee, George, I must make a clean breast. Iwas as well acquainted with the mysteries of a bettingbook, as I was with the financial department of Timbuctoo; when luckily ‘a d——d goodnatured friend’? came to my aid, and with his experience, why should I not get on cleverly ? A horse was going for nothing, my friend was on the alert, made the discovery, and I bought him for fiye hundred. He was a dead bargain, quite a dark one, and in proof of the same, the odds against him were thirty-five to one; but, as Iwas informed, here lay the beauty of the thing.

As the races drew near, I discovered that my book was what the Zegs call a gueer concern. I had picked up the halt and blind as first favourites and betted accordingly. My dark ome proved a voarer, and my faithful friend recommended me to hedge immediately, and I did so, as the result will tell.

Off went the horses; Phenomenon, my courser, in the chance medley got a splendid start, but from his pace the spectators alleged that he was hamstrung. In three hundred yards he was passed by the slowest of the ad ones, and before the leading horses reached: the distance, every thing I was interested in was beaten fairly off. All I had left for consolation under this accumulation of disappointment was the smart hedge that I had so prudently effected before starting.

The settling-day came; I was at Tattersall’s and so were my winners to a man; I disbursed five thousand to divers legs with and without titles, and furthermore disposed of the celebrated horse Phenomenon for fifty pounds. But where was the worthy gentleman with whom I had hedged half mylosses? Till four o'clock I waited in painful expectation, and at that hour, he being still invisible, I ventured to hazard an inquiry, and was favoured with the comfortable tidings, that my absent friend was a broken wine-merchant, and that he had levanted the evening of the race.

This wind up of the season, united to sultry weather and a tender persecution, determined me to fly ‘‘east, west, or north, I care not whither.” This, however, was more easily decided on than effected, for to retreat is the difficulty, as I find myself hemmed in by my enemies on every side. The widow cuts me off from Cheltenham ; the Honourable Juliana Thistleton would haunt me in Hastings ; the Dowager of —— and her protégée abide in the pleasant town of Brighton; and my Lord

Leatherby has taken out a sort of roving com- 4 mission, to infest every retirement of fashionable repute ; and from his cunning inquiries as to the particular point, seaside or suburban, to which I purpose to remove, I perceive I am as deliberately doomed to matrimony by this relentless nobleman, as ever a country bonnetmaker was devotion to destruction by an immoral captain of horse.

And shall I fall without a struggle to avert

Of THE WEST. Ir my fate? forbid it honour! Yes, my determination is fixed—I will counteract | this conspiracy against my freedom, and: call my Connaught cousin ‘‘to the rescue.’”? Heisa determined duellist, and has been regularly jilted—consequently he abominates the sex (I hope) and will protect me from the widow; while his truculent propensities for the pistol will keep the Peer at a distance. Adieu! I’ll write anon—thine always,

Chapter II

Letters—An Escape—Connaught— Topographical and Moral Description—A Virtuous and Flourishing Town—A Bible Meeting and Radical Reform.

I APPRIZED you in my last letter, that in this my hour of need, I would seek succour from my Irish kinsman. Iwrote to him accordingly, implored him to abandon his mountain den and join me at Lalworth Park. To my invitation T received a decisive, and I would almost say, insulting refusal: ‘‘ He hated puppies, avoided flirts, was neither a fool ora fortune, and therefore had no business with such society as I should expose him to.”” The man appears to be a misanthrope; I gave him in return a tart rejoinder, and he seems disinclined to remain my debtor. Hear what he says:

‘‘Francis, I pity thee! Like the Moor, your ‘occupation’s gone,’ and your letter seals your condemnation.

“You talk of exercise: pshaw! what is it ? You knock some party-coloured balls over the smooth surface of a green table; you hazard suffocation for an hour in Rotten-row, and should you survive the dust, endure eternal dread of empalement by a carriage-pole; you shoot a score of rascally pigeons within the enclosures of Battersea, or make a grand excursion to slaughter pheasants in a preserve ; last and proudest feat comes. the dattu, when, with noble and honourable confederates, you exterminate a multitude of semi-civilized fowls, manfully overcoming the fatigue of traversing an ornamented park, and crossing a few acres of turnips. And is this ignoble course befitting one of ‘ lith and limb’ like thine ? You, the best of your day in Trinity ;—you, whose prowess is still recorded in the annals of the watchhouse, and whose hurling is yet chronicled in the Park ;—you, whom no six-feet wall could turn, whom no mountain-herd could tire in the dog-days ;—you, who could swim with Byron, and walk with Barclay,—what are you become ? an elegant and fashionable idler—lolling life away, the morning in a club-house window, the evening in the Park, and the night ga/- lopading some scion of nobility, who has discovered that you possess twelve thousand pounds a year, and that her own funds are insufficient to satisfy the corset-maker in Regent-street.

«Would that I could reform your taste and habits! Could I but induce you to pass one autumn here, your conversion would be a certainty. Come to me, Frank; ay, come to the wilds of Connaught : avoid an atmosphere surcharged with villanous impurities, and brace your relaxed nerves in the waves of the Atlantic; seek life and energy in the mountain-breeze ; abandon the gymnasium*to scriveners and shopmen; and leave Crockford’s to ruined. dupes and titled swindlers.

“‘You have hitherto been a silent Member of the Honourable Commons, and St. Stephen’s has never heard from you ‘the popularharangue, the tart reply.’ Hast thou any aspirations after fame ? any ‘longing after immortality ?? Listen; the means are simple. Indict the Red-house as a nuisance, and propose a bill, making the being aiding or accessory to a battu, death without benefit of clergy. Thy name will live when Joe Hume, that ready-reckoner, shall be forgotten ; and Dick Martin’s senatorial renown will fade before the perennial glory of the present member for bury!”

Need I say how opportunely came this invitation? ‘I embraced his offer;”’ and here I am fairly over the border, and safely deposited in the kingdom of Connaught, without injury or interruption worth recording.

On the subject of my travels I intend to be laconic, inasmuch as, with a temporary intervention of steam, I have resided in the royal mail since I left the lamps of London. I believe

—.

Iam not exactly cut out for a traveller: Iam incurious as to names of guards and coachmen —never inquire after their wives, or take the population of their families ; I generally sleep from the start to the close of the stage. I did observe that the colour of corn was nearly alike in both countries ; and remarked further, that English drivers seemed partial to ale and overalls, and Irish ones preferred frieze coats and naked whiskey.

And now, George, you shall have the particulars of my escape; and, since the times of the Anabasis, or the more recent exploits of Lavalette and Ikey Solomons, never was retreat effected in more masterly style. | Candour obliges me to admit, that mine was unaccompanied by sound of trumpet, or other “ pomp and circumstance of war;’ and rather resembled the hasty retirement of a detected thief from a tabernacle, than a bold operation in noonday, and in the face of the enemy. But let that pass, I embarked a miscellaneous cargo of guns, dogs, and fishing-tackle, under the surverllance of a trusty servant, on board a Dublin steamer, and the following evening started quietly for “the Head ;” leaving directions with mine host in Grafton-street to acquaint Lord Leatherby, and all suspiciouslooking inquirers, that I had departed for Constantinople, and that any commands forme must be forwarded, under cover, to the Sublime Porte

I have no talent for statistics, but if my memory serve, the interesting portion of the British empire from which I write, is thus laid down by a modern tourist :—‘ It lieth,” says this intelligent traveller, “under a dark gray cloud, which is evermore discharging itself on the earth, but, like the widow’s cruse, is never exhausted.” It is bounded on the south and east by Christendom and part of Tipperary, on the north by Donegal, and on the west by the salt say. It abounds in bogs, lakes, and other natural curiosities; its soil consists of equal quantities of earth and stone; and its surface is so admirably disencumbered of trees, shrubs, hedges, and ditches, that an intelligent backwoodsman from Louisiana was heard to declare | with rapture, that it was the most perfectlycultivated territory in Europe.

“Further,” saith the tourist, «its gentry are a polished and religious race, remarkable for their punctuality in pecuniary transactions, and their freedom from a litigious or quarrelsome disposition. The prevailing mode of belief among the upper classes is anythingarianism— that of the people; pure Popery.”’

This premonitory sketch will save you and me, George, an infinity of trouble. You have here the country graphically placed before you, as well as the distinguishing traits of character, for which the pleasant and virtuous community who abide in this interesting department of the Emerald Isle are so eminently distinguished.

The town of Ballinasloe is seated on a river, the name of which I neglected to inquire. It is much frequented by saints and cattle dealers, carries on a smart trade in sheep and proselytes, and Bibles and bullocks are “thick as leaves in Vallombrosa.”’ The cabins, moreover, are whitewashed ; pigs and popery are prohibited ; and travellers wayfaring on the seventh day denounced, and, under perilous amercements, enjoined to take their ease in their respective inns.

While the horses were being brought out, I strolled into the street, and, in a show-room of the Farming Society, discovered a collection of biblicals in full activity. From a short gentleman with soiled linen and an impeded delivery, I learned the gratifying fact, that the spread of the Gospel was progressive in California ; and, further, that a second-cousin of the King of Siam had been baptized by a Moravian Missionary. This latter annunciation elicited a thunder of applause ; and a young lady with a lisp pinched my elbow playfully, and requested me to propose that a piece of plate be transmitted to the convertee. Now, pinching ones’ elbow on a five minutes’ acquaintance is alarming; I accordingly levanted, leaving Zispy to propose the plate in person. I observed in my retreat a mob assembled round the chapel, and, pushing through a crowd of ragged urchins, established myself in the doorway. Within there was a meeting of Radical Reformers, and a tall man was pouring forth a philippic from the altar, in- which he made an awful example of the king’s English, and, in his syllabic arrangements, differed totally from modern orthoepists. The gist of his oration went to prove, that Catholic Emancipation. was a humbug—concession a farce—and luck or grace would never visit this unhappy island, until Mr. Cornelius Cassidy, of Killcooney House, was sent to represent us in the Imperial Parliament. '

The horses are being put to, and I.must say farewell. I shall, however, note my adventures, and in due time fayour you with another epistle.

Adieu, always yours.

WILD SPORTS OF THE WEST.

Chapter III

Journey continued—Inn of Glantane--Tuam—A Bad Night—Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire—A Country Ball, and the Finish.

As my journey hither has been singularly propitious, I shall only trouble you with the leading incidents.

My carriage broke down close to the inn of Glantane, a solitary house, as the song goes, “delightfully placed in a bog.’? As some delay must necessarily occur before the repairs of the vehicle could be effected, after the

example of that accomplished cavalier, Major

Dalgetty, I determined to seize on this opportunity to provision the garrison. To this prudent proceeding on my part I found there was an insurmountable obstacle: the landlady assured me that the ‘‘satériel”” was in the house—there was bacon in the chimney, and chickens in the yard, but there was no turf within, till the boys—the devil bother them for staying !—came home from the blacksmith’s funeral. Now, that the hotel of Glantane should be deficient in this point was marvellous. The surface of the circumjacent country, in its proportion of tillage-ground to turbary, bearsan acreable ratio of one to five hundred ; and yet, though in the bosom of a bog, there could not bea sufficiency of fire obtained to boil a potatopot! But human ingenuity is surprising: after a delay of'three mortal hours I re-ascended my chaise, and, without further accident, was deposited in the town of Tuam.