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."
These are Sir Thomas Butler's sentiments and opinions. His opinions,
formed from his standpoint, are worthy of consideration. With a
lingering look at bonnie Dunany, we bade adieu to Lady Butler and the
two baronets, and were driven back to South Gate over another and more
inland road.