GUESTS IN AN IRISH HOME
Mike and I were glad to rest quietly all that day within the high walls
that surrounded “Shaneville.” Here we were safe from interviewers,
curious people, and an excited populace.
When aeroplaning is as common as motoring now is, it will be much more
pleasant. Nowadays an aeroplane makes as much excitement as a comet,
and I expect that even this record will read like a novel to some.
There are people who might enjoy the notoriety which an aeroplane
gives, but we were not anxious to get famous in that way.
During our pleasant day at “Shaneville,” I renewed my conversation with
Mr. O’Neill in regard to his native land, and, in his library that
afternoon we had a long talk again on Ireland.
I noticed that the coat of arms of “Shaneville” was a red hand, with
the cross of St. George, and I had remarked that I saw that coat of
arms somewhere before. Mr. O’Neill laughed heartily, and assured me
he was confident I had seen it often. He told me that was the coat of
arms of Ulster, now, and was seen everywhere in the North of Ireland.
It was his family which gave Ulster this sign. Long centuries before
when his ancestors came over from Scotland to Ireland, the invaders
agreed amongst themselves that whoever touched the shore of Ireland
first with his hand would be King. An O’Neill amongst them, when the
boat stranded on the beach, promptly drew his sharp sword, and cut off
his left hand and threw it high on the beach, and was at once hailed as
King by the rest. Since that the O’Neill emblem has been a red hand.
Mr. O’Neill related how his family held power from that time until the
beginning of the 17th century, when a rebellion against England cost
them their power and estates in Ulster. It was at this time that Ulster
was colonized anew from Scotland.
James I. confiscated nearly all Ulster, and partitioned out the land
to new settlers, mostly from Scotland. Although this act had meant the
ruin of his house. I could see no bitterness in O’Neill’s voice as he
spoke of this “plantation of Ulster,” as he called it. He said that
these new settlers had made good, industrious citizens, and that Ulster
was the most prosperous part of Ireland today. He spoke highly of the
character of these Scotch-Irishmen, and added:
“You know, sir, away back our own people came from Scotland.”
Still, I could see that O’Neill looked on these great real estate
transfers by the kings of England as wrongs to the native Irish.
O’Neill told me there were three reforms going on in Ireland in which
he had hearty sympathy. These are the improvement of Irish agriculture,
the revival of the Gaelic tongue, and the suppression of intemperance
amongst the Irish people.
“One splendid result of the agitation for these reforms,” he said
earnestly, “is that Irishmen are beginning to see that there is one
Ireland after all. All creeds in Ireland are united in promoting
these great reforms, and it is creating a national sentiment which is
bringing all Irishmen into sympathy with each other.”
“Our curse has been,” he continued, “that we have been divided so much
amongst ourselves.”
I was surprised when he told me of the Government’s present efforts to
improve Irish agriculture. There is an Agricultural Department, which
furnishes instructors on such subjects as improving of crops, and
stock, butter and poultry. They also furnish seeds and fertilizers, and
are doing a great deal in promoting prosperity in the backward parts of
the island. Mr. O’Neill was enthusiastic about the Gaelic revival.
“Why,” he said, “they are even teaching Gaelic now in the National
Schools of Ireland. In former times the use of the native tongue was
discouraged in every way by the Government, but now teachers are being
trained to teach it.”
I suggested to him that the English was quite a useful language, since
it was spoken in America, and so widely throughout the world.
“We still expect to use English, of course,” he exclaimed. He then
explained that the efforts of Douglas Hyde and his friends were to
make the Irish a bi-lingual people, just as the Welsh are.
In speaking of the progress of this interesting revival of Gaelic in
Ireland he gave me some facts.
In 1901 as many as 638,000 could speak Gaelic in Ireland, and the
number is constantly increasing. All the churches in Ireland,
Protestant, and Catholic, have endorsed the movement. There is a strong
Gaelic League, which employs over a dozen lecturers and organizers, who
promote the study of Gaelic all over the island. I was assured that
even in America there was a strong branch of this Gaelic League, and
Mr. O’Neill told me that Mr. Roosevelt had endorsed the work highly.
O’Neill was also deeply interested in the temperance reform.
“Ireland,” he said to me, “has been a place where they have had too
much good whisky and too much bad politics. These two things have
ruined us.”
He spoke with much pride of the fact that scientific temperance
instruction had been introduced into the National schools of Erin in
1905, and also told of the work that all the churches were doing. He
was an ardent admirer of Father Mathew.
“A real temperance apostle,” he exclaimed, “one of God’s best blessings
to Ireland since the days of St. Patrick.”
He spoke cordially of the temperance leaders, and told me of the good
work being done at Maynooth college by the Faculty and the students.
He said that America’s eminent churchman, Archbishop Ireland, had
helped the temperance cause in Ireland, which is his native land. He
also mentioned Rev. John Macmillan, of Belfast, the temperance leader
among the Presbyterians in Ireland, and said he was a noble temperance
patriot.
“These reforms,” he repeated, “are bringing us together and giving a
feeling of unity to Irishmen such as they have not had since the days
of Brian Boru.”
I asked him what he thought of Ireland’s relation to England.
He paused a few moments before answering, and when he did reply it was
in a low, quiet tone.
“We must forget the past,” he said, “if Ireland is to make progress.
It is true that England has cruelly wronged Ireland. My own family has
suffered in past generations, suffered shamefully. But the English
Government of today is treating Ireland very differently. Gladstone
inaugurated a new era, through the efforts of Parnell, Redmond, and our
modern Irish leaders. Today the English people, I believe, want Ireland
to have justice.”
I asked him what he thought of separation from England. He answered
at once: “We cannot be separated. God has placed the islands side by
side. What we want is freedom to manage internal affairs, just as the
States in America, just as Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. We
want local-self government, but we must remain a part of the British
Empire.”
He went on to tell me how the Irishmen had helped to build up the
British Empire, and make it what it is today.
“The present ambassador of the British Empire in Washington,” he
exclaimed, “is an Irishman.”
I was profoundly impressed with his views on this subject. I could see
he was a man with wide sympathy and practical outlook, and believed
in living for the future, rather than the past. He still had all the
fire of the O’Neill blood in his veins, but it had been disciplined by
generations of suffering.
We had a happy time in the evening. There is no hospitality like the
Irish hospitality. It is whole-hearted, cordial and sincere.
Miss Edith delighted us with several Irish songs. She sang Moore’s
touching melody: “The Last Rose of Summer,” with genuine pathos.
Afterwards she began on American songs, and when she had sung several,
I remarked that she sang like an American.
She turned around on her piano stool and replied: “I have always
admired America. Sometimes I tell my father that I believe that I was
meant for an American woman.”
“Cross the ocean, Miss O’Neill,” said Mike quickly, “and a thousand
Americans will swear that you were meant for an American man.”
Edith blushed and turned again to the piano.
“Tut, tut,” said Mr. O’Neill to Mike, “you have been kissing the
Blarney Stone since you came to Ireland.”
“It’s the atmosphere,” I remarked, “Mr. Connor gets more like an
Irishman every day.”
“Did you ever hear what the citizens of Dublin did when the Union
of 1801 was agitated?” asked Mr. O’Neill. “They held an indignation
meeting, and resolved to burn everything that was imported from
England, except _coal_.” As we laughed heartily at this, Mr. O’Neill
went on: “Our coachman made a curious remark to me today about you
gentlemen and your aeroplane. He said you ought to feel proud of this
trip you are making over Ireland in the air, for you are going _where
the foot of man never trod before_.”
“This coachman amused me shortly after I first hired him. There is a
bad hole back of the stable, and I forgot to say anything to him about
it until I found he had fallen into it, and hurt himself severely. I
told him I was sorry I had forgotten to tell him about it.”
“That’s all right, Master,” he replied, “I found it myself.”