river Main, a spot almost equidistant from each of the three railway
stations of Farranfore, Gortatlea, and Castleisland. When Sullivan
died several years ago, the farm, for which he paid about 190l. a year
rent, was divided between his three sons, the man who obtained the
middle or best section being "set" to pay 5l. more than either of the
others, as having the best farm. The brothers on the outside sections
have prospered. One has saved some hundreds of pounds; the other has
given good, substantial portions to his three daughters. No objection
was made to the manner in which the land was subdivided by the agent,
Mr. Hussey, of the firm of Hussey and Townsend, of Cork, Tralee, and
other places. The Sullivan who inherited the "good will," as it is
called here, of the "Benjamin's mess" has not succeeded in life so
well as his brothers. At the October sessions of 1878 an ejectment
order was obtained against him for one and a half year's rent, equal
to 100l. 10s. In January, 1879, possession was taken, and the farmer
formally ejected, but immediately reinstated as "caretaker," a
convenient practice, when it is borne in mind that in Ireland an
ejected tenant has six months allowed him for "redemption," during
which the landlord can only let the farm subject to the risk of the
late tenant paying up his rent, less whatever has been taken off the
farm in the meanwhile. Sullivan then was re-established in his farm as
"caretaker," and there he remained with the consent of the agent until
last spring, when he was summoned to depart. To this request he has
declined to pay the slightest attention. When he is summoned for
trespass and sent to gaol the Land Leaguers pay his fine and restore
him to his family, who still keep houses on the farm as before. As the
case at present stands he is indebted to his landlord (deduction being
made for sums received for grazing and for about 100l. worth of hay
still stacked on the farm) in the sum of 100l. The agent, anxious to
settle the matter, persuaded the landlord to offer him a receipt for
this, and a bonus of 100l. in cash, if he would go away, but this he,
or the Land League for him, declines to do.
It was obviously necessary at the end of the hay harvest to appoint a
caretaker to see that the crop was not "lifted," after the manner of
that of the irreconcilable Tom Browne, of Cloontakilla, county Mayo.
Hence, Laurence Griffin, a labouring man, with an acre patch of land
to his house, was given the job of looking after the hay, and
occasionally summoning Sullivan for trespass. It must be understood
that Sullivan's family have never been disturbed, and that Griffin
lives, not like a man in possession of their holding, but in his own
little house hard by with his own family. The supervision exercised
was, therefore, of the mildest character, but the summoning for
trespass was accounted a dire offence by the popular leaders. Hence
Griffin was first "noticed" to give up the occupation assigned to him
by his employer, Mr. Hussey, who had given him his house and potato
patch. The poor fellow was sadly exercised in his mind, but he kept on
with his duty until a second notice was affixed to his door. Then he
lost heart, and a fortnight ago gave up his dangerous occupation.
On the Saturday following, however, he happened to go into Tralee, and
the exponents of the popular will made up their minds that he had not
given up his employment as he was "noticed" to do, that he was still
persevering in the nefarious career of a caretaker, and that he had
actually dared to go in the light of day to Tralee to receive the wage
of his iniquity. If not actually guilty of this enormity, he had at
least a guilty look, and it was determined to punish him, and make him
a warning to other evildoers.
According to the man's account, given in a disjointed manner under
severe cross-questioning, he had gone to bed on Monday last, when
somebody tapped at his door and called to him to open. Thinking the
visit was from the police, who occasionally looked in upon him, he got
up, and huddling on some clothes as he went, made for the door. As he
was on the point of opening it, a voice called out to him to "make
haste," for the speaker was "starved with the cold;" then he knew the
voice was not that of the policeman, and he would fain have closed the
just opening door, but a gun was thrust through the opening, the door
was pushed open, and a dozen men with blackened faces and armed to the
teeth burst into the room.
The ringleader then proceeded to go through some form akin to a trial,
and asked his companions what should be done with Laurence Griffin,
who had disregarded the notices served on him, and persevered in his
villanous calling. It was suggested that death alone would meet the
case. "Shoot 'um, says they," said Griffin to me. At this his wife
sprang out of bed shrieking, and his children collected round him.
Almost out of his wits with terror, the poor fellow declared that he
had obeyed the notice, that he had relinquished his office, and that
he was out of work, and full of trouble in consequence.
After some little consultation the chiefs of the Blackfaces consented
to swear Griffin as to the truth of his statement, and while guns were
held to his breast and to each side of his head, he swore solemnly
that he had obeyed the notice, that he was no longer watching
Sullivan's farm, and that he would never offend in such wise again.
When an end was made of swearing him, poor Griffin, more dead than
alive, was marched out alone between his guards into the road, where
he found himself among a score more of men, all with blackened faces.
Then, so far as I could understand Griffin, the leader of the men
outside displayed some dissatisfaction at the way in which things had
passed off, and expressed his determination that the unhappy caretaker
should not go scot free.
"What did we come out for to-night?" growled the chief; "did we come
out for nothing?" Muffled groans followed this appeal, and encouraged
the spokesman to add, "Shall we go back as we came, boys?" the answer
to which was a decided negative. Then the unlucky man, Griffin, saw
something glitter in the chief's hand, and while he was kept steady by
gun barrels pressing against each side of his head, he felt a sharp
pain in his left ear, and the blood running down his neck.
As to what followed he was very incoherent; but it seems that the
Blackfaces departed, leaving him with his wife and children nearly
frightened to death, and with the top of his ear cut clean off.
I may add, as an indication of the state of Kerry, that a gentleman
invited to meet me last night postponed the meeting till daylight, on
the ground that night air is not good for landlords. Not a single
person directly or indirectly connected with land ventures out unarmed
even in broad daylight. It is needless to say that no money would hire
a man to watch Sullivan's farm.
XIV.
IN KERRY.
TRALEE, CO. KERRY, _Wednesday, December 8th._
The character of the principal estates in counties Cork and Kerry
appears to be like that of their bacon and beef--streaky. There are to
be seen some admirable specimens of skilful and liberal management, as
well as instances of almost insane blundering on the part of both
landlord and tenant. From Blarney to the Blaskets the distance is not
that of a couple of counties, but the gap between Kylemore and Rinvyle
between civilization and savagery. It would be thought that worse
degradation than that on Innisturk and Innisbofin would be difficult
to find; but in poverty, misery, and lawlessness the population of
those inclement isles is far outdone by the five-and-twenty families
now in the position of squatters on the Great Blasket. This is an
island some three miles and three-quarters long, lying off the
peninsula of Corkaguiny beyond Dunmore Head, on the northern side of
Dingle Bay, as Bray Head and the island of Valentia lie on its
southern side. Of old the Greater Blasket, which has some good
pasturage upon it, was let to a few tenants who made a sort of living
on this wild spot. They fed their sheep, they grew potatoes, caught
great store of porpoises, which they converted into bacon, and thus
kept body and soul together in a rough way. But whatever of rude
plenty once existed on Great Blasket has vanished before its
increasing population. The island is now asked to maintain some
hundred and forty persons, and refuses to respond to the demand.
The tenants can hardly complain of much interference of late years,
either from Lord Cork, the head landlord, or from Mr. Hussey, who till
just recently leased the island from him; for they have paid no rent
for four or five, nor county cess for seven, years. They have never
paid any poor-rate, and yet hunger after "relief meal." They are
simply attempting the impossible--to live on a place which might
perhaps support a score of people, but will not support six times that
number.
Blarney, for other reasons than its groves and "the stone there, that
whoever kisses he never misses to grow eloquent," is one of the most
interesting places in the south of Ireland. It is not only the centre
of a rich agricultural country and the abode of an improving landlord,
Sir George St. John Colthurst, of Ardrum, but the seat of an
important manufacture of woollens, a rare and curious industry in
Munster. The Blarney mills make a great "turn over" of tweed, and
employ five hundred and fifty men, women, and girls. I had an
excellent opportunity of seeing the factory hands, for I went to
Blarney on pay-day, and was greatly struck by the difference between
their appearance and that of the people engaged in agriculture alone.
The number and appearance of the women employed is a good answer to
those pessimists who maintain that the curse of the poorer Irish is
the filthiness, laziness, and general slatternliness of the women. In
dress and general bearing the girls of Blarney would compare
favourably with those of many English manufacturing towns; and,
inasmuch as Blarney Mills are successful, their work must be well
done. One reason of course of the comfortable look of the Blarney folk
is that all the family work. Perhaps the husband works at agriculture,
and the wife and daughter at the mill. All work, and hence a good
income, as at Blackburn and other cotton towns, instead of the
starvation which attends a useless woman who, with her string of
helpless children, hangs like a millstone round her husband's neck.
There are no "useless mouths" at Blarney, where everybody helps to
maintain the family roof-tree, and to prove that the Irish of the
south, like those of Connemara, are susceptible of being taught, if
only pains be taken with them. It must be admitted that Blarney Mills
are in the second generation, having been founded by Mr. Mahony, the
father of the late "Father Prout" and of the present proprietor. The
houses of the workpeople at Blarney are neat and trim, white and
clean, and a repose to the eyes of beholders, sick of slouching thatch
and bulging mud walls.
Perhaps, however, the spot of all others in which the sharpest
contrast occurs between the old life of Ireland and that brought about
by "improving" landlords and tenants is the hamlet of Millstreet,
situate on the line of railway between this place and Mallow, once a
kind of Irish Tunbridge Wells, and famous for the "Rakes of Mallow,"
whose virtues are immortalised in verse. When Mallow was the farthest
south-western outpost of civilization it is possible that the "rakes"
who converged upon that pretty spot from the surrounding country
"ranted," "roared," and "drank" to the extent that the poet has
credited them withal. But they are gone now, these rakes, and Mallow
appears to get on very well without them.
It is remarkable for its pretty villas, and for a comfortable hotel,
kept by a self-made man, who has risen from the ranks into prosperity
by sheer industry and foresight. Millstreet is a very different kind
of place from Mallow. The latter has the beautiful Blackwater river to
give it beauty; but Millstreet is chiefly remarkable as the _locale_
of the mill which gives it a name; as the habitation of the Rev.
Canon Griffin, a Roman Catholic of high culture, who, unlike some of
the priesthood, abjures the Land League and all its works; and as the
spot on which "Ould Ireland" and New Ireland meet face to face.
The hamlet is mainly divided between two proprietors. That part known
as the McCarthy O'Leary property is mainly composed of filthy hovels
of the worst Irish type--is, in fact, rather a gigantic piggery than a
dwelling-place for human beings. The houses are not so small as the
mountain cabins of Mayo or the seaside dens of Connemara, but they are
small enough, crowded with inhabitants, and filthy beyond the belief
of those who know not the western half of Ireland. It is hardly
possible, nor would it be worth while, to inquire into the causes
which have made one half of Millstreet an opprobrium and the other
half a model hamlet. I simply record what I see--filth and swinishness
on the left hand, order, neatness, and cleanliness on the right.
The white houses, the trim streets of the townlet, are on the Wallace
property, which is at present, and will be for some little time to
come, in the hands of the Court of Chancery. Skilfully administered
for several years past, the Wallace property is very well known in
these parts for the success with which its management has been
attended. One of the principal tenants of this thriving estate is Mr.
Jeremiah Hegarty, whose peculiar position towards his landlords
affords a curious instance of the working of the present land laws of
Ireland. To begin with Mr. Hegarty holds about eight hundred acres as
a tenant farmer, without a lease or any guarantee against his being
turned off by his landlords at any time, except the natural goodwill
and joint interest of landlord and tenant. He has of course the Act of
1870 in his favour, but inasmuch as his "improvements" have extended
over a long term of years, it is almost certain that if a series of
deaths should bring the property into needy or unscrupulous hands Mr.
Hegarty might be removed from his farm, or rather farms, at great loss
to himself, despite the compensation that would be awarded him, and on
which the landlord would assuredly make a great profit. It may be
thought hardly likely that any landlord would be mad enough to
disestablish a tenant of eight hundred acres of land who pays his rent
with commendable punctuality; but as such things, and things even more
foolish, have been done during the present year, it is not agreeable
to think of the risks run by an improving tenant in county Cork, and
an improving tenant Mr. Hegarty assuredly is.
It is a curious illustration of that difference between English and
Irish farming which makes the agrarian question so difficult for
Englishmen to understand, that Mr. Hegarty, who may be accepted as a
type of the Irish farmer, possessed by advanced ideas, conducts his
operations successfully and profitably by almost exactly reversing the
proportions of tillage and pasture existing on Mr. Clare Read's famous
farm at Honingham Thorpe. On the particular farm of Mr. Read's here
referred to, the quantity of pasture is about one eighth or ninth of
the whole. On Mr. Hegarty's farms, for he has more than one to make up
his total of eight hundred acres, there is exactly one-ninth under
tillage to eight-ninths of pasture.
This will not at first strike the English eye as any great thing in
the way of reclamation; but it must be recollected that in this part
of Ireland it is no small matter to obtain good pasture. One of the
first sights the eye becomes accustomed to is the long bent or sedge,
shooting rankly up among the sweeter grass, and telling surely of land
overcharged with water. There is no escape from the fact that Ireland
as a country is cursed with defective natural drainage. The fall of
the greater rivers is so slight that they meander hither and thither
in "S's," as they say here, and only require a little surplus on the
average rainfall to overflow the more valuable land. And it is
astonishing how quickly good land left untilled reverts to its
primeval condition, or, in the expressive language of the country,
"goes back to bog." This has been shown in many cases.
There is, for instance, a not small portion of Lord Inchiquin's and
Lord Kenmare's land, which has been allowed by the tenants to
gradually go back to sedge, if not to bog, for the want of keeping
drains clear and putting on lime. A curious instance of the effect of
not liming the land is supplied on one of the fields newly reclaimed
by Mr. Hegarty. Owing either to the supply of lime running short, for
the moment, or to the carelessness of his men, a patch of recently
drained land was left without lime which was liberally bestowed on the
rest of the field. The forgotten patch can be seen from afar by the
tufts of sedge sprouting from it.
Mr. Hegarty's eight hundred acres are, saving one or two little lots,
divided between the Millstreet farm and the mountain farm of
Lackadota, for the goodwill whereof the incoming paid the outgoing
tenants 560l. before he began the work of thorough reclamation. His
success on this hill-side has been remarkable. This season he has
taken out potatoes from eight acres at the rate of 20l. per acre, and
the triumph of his method has been equally great in other crops--to
wit, oats, mangolds, and turnips.
It is needless to remind agricultural readers that the artificial
feeding of cattle is still in its infancy in the west and south-west
of Ireland. The various kinds of cake--oil, cotton, and nut--and
cattle "spices," made up of fenugreek seed and other condiments, are,
if not unknown, quite unused by all but a few gentlemen farmers, of
whom I shall in another letter have more to say. The old-fashioned
notion was to rear cattle, turn them loose on the mountain, and sell
them to be finished in the Meaths or elsewhere. On the Millstreet
farm, however, root-crops are largely used for feeding, and the beasts
are kept more under cover than is common here. All this means, of
course, large outlay, and the farmer has expended not less than six
thousand pounds in building, and in draining and liming four hundred
acres of the eight hundred he occupies. He was, like Canon Griffin,
one of the first to recognise the necessity for changing the potato
seed, and imported "champions" before other people thought of it, and
while they were growing potatoes not much bigger than marbles, and
hardly fit to feed pigs upon, he was getting crops of fine tubers. In
draining the portion of his farm near the river, he has found himself
obliged to employ stone drains, the attempts previously made with tile
drains having failed signally; and it may be added that his attempts,
now shown to be successful, to drain the flat land near the river
Oughbane were derided by neighbouring agriculturists, who could not
see that if the land do not slope sufficiently towards the natural
drainage the artificial drains may be made to do so. His
farm-buildings, machinery for threshing, &c., are an agreeable sight.
In building, concrete has been largely used, especially in the
cow-houses and feeding stalls, and the general effect of this large
farm in county Cork is that of a well-managed business, every detail
of which is familiar to its head.
It can hardly be thought extraordinary that farmers like Mr. Hegarty,
even on a smaller scale, are anxious for a good, sound Land Bill.
They, with all good feeling toward their present landlords, cannot
avoid recognising that as the law stands the work of their lives may
be taken from them by any accident of succession. Despite the Land
Bill of 1870, they are harassed by a sense of insecurity. Monetary
payment for the work of their best years would not compensate them for
the loss of the holdings, the value of which has been created by their
own intelligent work. In England farmers of this type would assuredly
have a lease, and their Irish brethren hold that schemes for the
gradual acquirement of land by tenants should be accompanied by the
"Three F's," and extended over fifty instead of thirty-five years. The
latter plan would, they think, be of little use to the present tenant,
as it would practically raise his rent too far, and thus prevent him
from doing his best by the land. Great force is given to these
opinions by evidence in my possession, that, although a great deal of
land has been reclaimed within the last fifty years, a large
proportion is running barren for want of means on the farmers' part to
cultivate it properly.
The panic among all classes connected with "landlordism" is on the
increase. All who can conveniently leave county Kerry are doing so. If
I go for a drive with one of those proscribed by the grogshop-keepers
of Castleisland the muzzle of a double-barrelled carbine peeps
ominously from the "well" of the car. Meanwhile all enterprise and
development of the country is arrested. The North Kerry Railway,
connecting this town with Limerick, will, I believe, be opened next
week, "despite of foes," but other undertakings are for the moment
paralysed. This is the more to be regretted, as Tralee is a rising
place. After a desperate struggle against the inertness of Western
Ireland on the subject of pure water, the uncongenial element has been
introduced so skilfully and with so much fall that a jet can be thrown
over any house in Tralee. The last new idea is a railway to Fenit
Without, six miles down the bay. Up to the present time vessels have
been brought to Tralee by a ship canal, but it is now sought to
construct a railway running on to a pier, the elbow of which should be
formed by Great Camphire Island. The cost of the railway will be
45,000l., of which 30,000l. is guaranteed by the county, and a large
part of the balance taken up by the town. The pier is a far more
serious business, depending on the Board of Works; but all attention
is diverted from this and other important subjects by the terrorism
which has, only just recently, extended to the county of Kerry.
KILLARNEY, CO. KERRY, _Thursday, Dec. 9th._