[Illustration: S. M. Hussey]

 THE REMINISCENCES

 OF AN

 IRISH LAND AGENT

 BEING THOSE OF

 S. M. HUSSEY

_Compiled by_ HOME GORDON

WITH TWO PORTRAITS

LONDON

_DUCKWORTH AND COMPANY_ 3 HENRIETTA STREET, W. C. 

1904

Edinburgh: T. And A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty

PREFACE

Probably the first criticism on this book will be that it is colloquial. 

The reason for this lies in the fact that though Mr. Hussey has for twogenerations been one of the most noted raconteurs in Ireland, he hasnever been addicted to writing, and for that reason has always declinedto arrange his memoirs, though several times approached by publishersand strongly urged to do so by his friends, notably Mr. Froude and Mr. John Bright. If his reminiscences are to be at all characteristic theymust be conversational, and it is as a talker that he himself at lengthconsents to appear in print. 

In this volume he endeavours to supply some view of his own country asit has impressed itself on 'the most abused man in Ireland, ' as LordJames of Hereford characterised Mr. Hussey. How little practical effectseveral attacks on his life and scores of threatening letters have hadon him is shown by the fact that he survives at the age of eighty toexpress the wish that his recollections may open the eyes of many aswell as prove diverting. 

Possessing a retentive memory, he has been further able to assist mewith seven large volumes of newspaper cuttings which he had collectedsince 1853, while the publishers kindly permit the use of two articleshe contributed to _Murray's Magazine_ in May and July 1887. To me thepreparation of this book has been a delightful task, materially helpedby Mr. Hussey's family as well as by a few others on either side of theChannel. 

HOME GORDON. 

13 OVINGTON SQUARE, S. W. 

CONTENTS

 PREFACE v

 CHAP. I. ANCESTRY i

 II. PARENTAGE AND EARLY YEARS 10

 III. EDUCATION 20

 IV. FARMING 30

 V. LAND AGENT IN CORK 38

 VI. FAMINE AND FEVER 50

 VII. FENIANISM 60

 VIII. MYSELF, SOME FACTS, AND MANY STORIES 71

 IX. THE HARENC ESTATE 82

 X. KERRY ELECTIONS 93

 XI. DRINK 101

 XII. PRIESTS 115

 XIII. CONSTABULARY AND DISPENSARY DOCTORS 127

 XIV. IRISH CHARACTERISTICS 140

 XV. LORD-LIEUTENANTS AND CHIEF SECRETARIES 162

 XVI. GLADSTONIAN LEGISLATION 179

 XVII. THE STATE OF KERRY 194

 XVIII. A GLANCE AT MY STEWARDSHIP 202

 XIX. MURDER, OUTRAGE, AND CRIME 212

 XX. THE EDENBURN OUTRAGE 235

 XXI. MORE ATROCITIES AND LAND CRIMES 248

 XXII. COMMISSIONS 268

 XXIII. LATER DAYS 281

 INDEX 305

ILLUSTRATIONS

PORTRAIT OF S. M. HUSSEY _frontispiece_

PORTRAIT OF MRS. HUSSEY _at p. 71_

REMINISCENCES OF AN IRISH LAND AGENT

CHAPTER I

ANCESTRY

'My father and mother were both Kerry men, ' as the saying goes in mynative land, and better never stepped. 

It was my misfortune, but not my fault, that I was born at Bath and notin Kerry. 

However, my earliest recollection is of Dingle, for I was only threemonths old when I was taken back to Ireland, and up to that time I didnot study the English question very deeply, especially as I had an Irishnurse. 

There is a lot of Hussey history before I was born, and some is worthpreserving here. 

It is a thousand pities that so many details of family history have beenlost, and to my mind it is incumbent on one member of every reasonablyold family in this generation to collect and set down what should beremembered about their ancestors for the unborn to come. 

My contribution does not profess to be very exhaustive, but it willserve for want of a better. 

When a man claims to be descended from Irish kings, it generally meansthat his forbears were bigger scoundrels than he is, for they werecattle-lifters and marauders, whilst his depredations are probablydisguised under some of the many insidious forms of finance. Just asevery Scotsman is not canny and every American is not cute, so everyIrishman is not what the Saxon believes him to be. But there can belittle doubt what type of men these ancient Irish sovereigns were, and Iregretfully confess I cannot trace my descent from them. 

The family of Hussey was of English extraction, according to that rathervaluable book _The Antient and Present State of the County of Kerry_, byCharles Smith, 1756--the companion volumes dealing with Cork andWaterford are much less precious. Personally I always understood thatthe Husseys hailed from Normandy, as will be seen a few pages on, buttradition on such a point is not of much value. 

Anyway the family of Hussey settled in very early times at Dingle, andalso had several lands and castles in the barony of Corkaquiny. 

Dingle was the only town in this barony, and it was incorporated byQueen Elizabeth in 1585, when she granted it the same privileges whichwere enjoyed by Drogheda, with a superiority over the harbours of Ventryand Smerwick. The Virgin Sovereign also presented the town with Ł300 forthe purpose of making a wall round it. 

The Irish formerly called Dingle Daingean in Cushy, or the fastness ofthe Husseys. One of the FitzGeralds, Earl of Desmond, had granted to anancestor of my own a considerable tract of land in these parts, namely, from Castle-Drum to Dingle, or as others say, he gave him as much as hecould walk over in his jackboots in one day. That Hussey built a castle, said to be the first erected at Dingle, the vaults of which wereafterwards used as the county gaol. 

There is mention of this in the grant of a charter to Dingle by KingJames I. In the fourth year of his reign: 'The house of John Husseygranted for a gaol and common hall to the corporation. '

A grim interest lurks in the fact that the dedication of Smith's_History_ to Lord Newport, Lord Chancellor of Ireland, recites that'this Kingdom, my lord, is a kind of Terra Incognita to the greater partof Europe. '

Is it not so to this day?

Do I not meet scores of people who tell me they would love to go toKerry, but they have never been nearer than Killarney. 

That is the sort of speech which makes me wonder how geography istaught. 

It is on a par with the remark of a prominent Arctic explorer, that hehad never been to Killarney because it was so far off. 

People, however, who go there apparently like it. 

The chief Elizabethan settlers in Kerry were William and CharlesHerbert, Valentine Brown, ancestor of the Kenmares, Edmund Denny, andCaptain Conway, whose daughter Avis married Robert Blennerhasset, whilea little later, in 1600, John Crosbie was made Bishop of Ardfert andAghadoe. 

To-day the descendants of those settlers are still among the principalfolk in Kerry, though that is more due to their own selves than to thesupport they had from any British Government. 

This Valentine Brown, who was a worshipful and valiant knight, wrote adiscourse for settling Munster in 1584. His plan was to exterminate theFitzGeralds and to protestantise Ireland; but by the irony of fate hisown son married a daughter of the Earl of Desmond and became a RomanCatholic. 

In the Carew Manuscript it is recorded that he estimated that oneconstable and six men would suffice for Cork, but for Ventry, 'a largeharbour near Dingle, ' one constable and fifty men were necessary; so heevidently had a clear apprehension of the villainous capabilities of themen of Kerry. 

It is also recorded that in the parish of Killiney is a strongholdcalled Castle Gregory, which before the wars of 1641 was possessed byWalter Hussey, who was proprietor of the Magheries and Ballybeggan. Having a considerable party under his command, he made a garrison of hiscastle, whence having been long pressed by Cromwell's forces, he escapedin the night with all his men, and got into Minard Castle, in which hewas closely beset by Colonels Lehunt and Sadler. After some time hadbeen spent, the English observing that the besieged were making use ofpewter bullets, powder was laid under the vaults of the castle, and bothWalter Hussey and his men were blown up. 

Prior to this, 'on January 31, 1641, Walter Hussey, with FlorenceMacCarthy and others, attacked Ballybeggan Castle, plundered and burntthe house of Mr. Henry Huddleston, and did the same to the house andhaggards of Mr. Hore, where they built an engine called a saw, havingits three sides made musket-proof with boards. It was drawn on fourwheels, each a foot high, with folding doors to open inwards and severalloopholes to shoot through, without a floor, so that ten or twelve menwho went therein might drive it forwards. These machines were setagainst castle walls whilst the men within them attempted to make abreach with crows and pickaxes. '

Infernal machines are, after all, not confined to our own times, andthis same rascally ancestor of my own appears to have had predatoryhabits more likely to be appreciated by his followers than by his foes. 

Dingle is now a somewhat dilapidated town, but that was not always thecase, for it is mentioned in my dear old friend Froude's _History ofEngland_ that the then Earl of Desmond called on the ambassador ofCharles V. At his lodgings in Dingle. The old records of the place wouldbe worth diligent antiquarian research, a matter even more difficult inIreland than elsewhere. Should all be brought to light, I fancy the partplayed by my family would not grow smaller. 

The Husseys spread away over the county, after having their landsforfeited under both Elizabeth and Cromwell, which was the mostrespectable thing to suffer in those times. In the reign of Queen Anne, Colonel Maurice Hussey sold Cahirnane to the Herberts, and there is agarden still called Hussey's Garden in the property. He built a mortuarychapel for himself on the top of a small hill just outside the gates ofMuckross, where his own grave near that beautiful abbey can be seen tothis day. 

This Colonel Maurice Hussey resided for some time in England, andappears to have married an English lady; and it is odd that though aRoman Catholic he was trusted by the Governments of both William andAnne. There seems to have been something versatile about his rathermysterious career, the key to which may be found in the surmise thatuntil the accession of King George he was a Jacobite at heart; whichthrows some doubt on his assertion in a letter that there are very fewTories--or outlaws--in Kerry, where the Whig rule was never enforcedwith great severity. He was, however, committed to 'Trally jail' (_i. E. _Tralee) on the fear of a landing by the Pretender, whence he wrotepleading letters, in one of which he mentions that his son-in-law, MacCartie, has taken the oaths of abjuration; and later, when released, he seems to have been disturbed at the large number of GermanProtestants, driven out of the Palatinate by Louis the Fourteenth, whosettled at Bally M'Elligott. 

Any one who rambles about Dingle and investigates the older buildings, so carefully examined by Mr. Hitchcock, will notice how frequent is theemblem of a tree; and that is a conspicuous feature of the Husseyarmorial bearings. 

With reference to the allusions made in Smith's book to my ancestors, itmay be pointed out that he repeated the popular tradition at the verytime when the Husseys, like the rest of their fellow Catholics all overthe country, were disinherited and depressed, and when he could gainnothing by doing them honour. 

As for my name, it seems to have really been Norman, and to have been DeLa Huse, De La Hoese, and later Husee, Huse, and, finally, Hussey. 

Burke in his extinct _Peerage_ states that Sir Hugh Husse came toIreland, 17 Hen. II. , and married the sister of Theobald FitzWalter, first Butler of Ireland, and that he died seized of large possessions inMeath. His son married the daughter of Hugh de Lacy, senior Earl ofUlster, and their great-grandson, Sir John Hussey, Knight, first Earl ofGaltrim, was summoned to Parliament in 1374. 

Moreover, the State Papers in the Public Record Office, quoted in the_Journal of the Royal Society of Irish Antiquaries_ for September 1893, p. 266, prove beyond question that Nicholas de Huse or Hussy and hisfather, Herbert de Huse, were land-owners of some importance in Kerry in1307. Stirring times they must have been, of which we have no fictionunder the guise of history, though then men had to fight hard topreserve their lives and maintain their dignity. We can imagine thetussle, even in these degenerate days when no challenge follows theexchange of insults, even in the House of Commons, and when theperpetration of the most cowardly outrage in Ireland has to be inducedby preliminary potations of whisky. Of course, those old times were badtimes, but the badness was at least above board and the warfare prettystoutly waged. There is some sense in fighting your foe hand to hand, but to-day when a battle is contested by armies which never see oneanother, and are decimated by silent bullets, the courage needed is of adifferent character, and the wicked murder of such combats is obvious. 

But let us quit war and confiscation for the equally stormy region knownas politics, wherein it may be noted that in 1613 Michael Hussey wasMember of Parliament for Dingle. 

Now for a coincidence in Christian names. 

Only two Husseys forfeited in the Desmond Rebellion, and they were Johnand Maurice. 

In the Irish Parliament of James II. , when Kerry returned eight members, two of them were Husseys, and their names were John and Maurice. 

My grandfather's name was John, and his father before him was Maurice, and I christened my two surviving sons John and Maurice. 

We do not go in for much variety of nomenclature in our family. 

My grandfather, John Hussey, lived at Dingle, his mother being a memberof the well-known Galway family of Bodkin. He was an offshoot of theWalter Hussey who had been converted into an animated projectile by theunderground machinations of Cromwell's colonels. He was a very littleman, who had a landed property at Dingle, did nothing in particular, andreceived the usual pompous eulogy on his tombstone. I never heard thathe left any papers or diaries, and I do not think that he ever went outof Kerry--he had too much sense. 

A rather diverting story in which his sister was the heroine may beworth telling, if only because it was so characteristic of the period. 

In those days, as now, Husseys and Dennys were closely associated, andboth my great-aunt and Miss Denny, known locally as the 'PrincessRoyal, ' were going to a ball. At that time it was the fashion for thegirls of the period to wear muslin skirts edged with black velvet. Themuslin was easily procured; not so the velvet, which was eventuallyobtained by sacrificing an ancient pair of nether garments belonging tomy great-grandfather. 

After the early dinner then fashionable, each of the damsels wasdeparting for the Castle, with a swain at the door of her sedan-chair, when our kinswoman, Lady Donoughmore, who was on the door-step watchingthem off, enthusiastically shouted:--

'Success to the breeches! Success to the breeches!'

Imagine the horrified confusion of the poor 'Princess Royal, ' not theneighteen. 

This episode reminds me of the modern Scottish story of a tiresome smallboy who wanted more cake at a tea-party, and threatened his parents withdire revelations if they did not comply with his demands. As they showedno signs of intimidation, he banged on the table to obtain attention, and then announced:--

'Ma new breeks are made out of the winter curtains. '

An incident connected with one of the earliest private carriages inKerry is worth telling. The vehicle in question had just been purchasedby a certain Miss Mullins, daughter of a former Lord Ventry, whoregarded it on its arrival with almost sacred awe. A dance in theneighbourhood seemed an appropriate opportunity for impressing thecounty with her newly acquired grandeur, but the night proving wet, sheinsisted on reverting to a former mode of progression, and rode pillionbehind her coachman. 

The result was that she caught a violent chill, which turned topneumonia, and as her relatives were assembled round her deathbed, theold lady exclaimed, between her last gasps for breath:--

'Thank God I never took out the carriage that wet night. '

CHAPTER II

PARENTAGE AND EARLY YEARS

My father, Peter Bodkin Hussey, was for a long time a barrister at theIrish Bar, practising in the Four Courts, where more untruths are spokenthan anywhere else in the three kingdoms, except in the House of Commonsduring an Irish debate. All law in Ireland is a grave temptation tolying, and the greatest number of Courts produced a stupendous amount ofmendacity--or it was so in earlier times, at all events. 

Did you ever hear the tale of the old woman who came to DanielO'Connell, outside the Four Courts, as he was walking down the steps, and said to him:--

'Would your honour be so kind as to tell me the name of an honestattorney?'

The Liberator stopped, scratched his head in a perplexed way, andreplied:--

'Well now, ma'am, you bate me intoirely. '

My father had red hair, and was very impetuous. Therefore he waschristened 'Red Precipitate' by Jerry Kellegher. 

This legal luminary was a noted wit even at the Irish Bar of that time, a confraternity where humour was almost as rampant ascreditors--irresponsible fun, and a light purse are generally allied;your wealthy fellow has too much care for his gold to have spirits to bemirthful. 

The tales about him are endless. Here are just a few I have heard frommy father's lips. 

Jerry had a cousin, a wine merchant, who supplied the Bar mess, and acomplaint was lodged that the bottles were very small. 

To which Jerry retorted:--

'You idiot, don't you know they shrink in the washing, ' which satisfiedthe grumbler. And that always seemed to me the strangest part of thestory. 

In those days religious feeling ran pretty high--I will not go so far asto say it has entirely died down to-day--and the usual Protestant toastwas:--

'The Pope, the Devil, and the Pretender. '

Now, Jerry was a Roman Catholic, none the less earnest because he had amerry way with him. On a certain Friday he was seen to be fasting by avery foppish barrister, who thought a great deal of himself. 

He remarked to Jerry, with unnecessary impertinence:--

'Sir, it appears you have some of the Pope in your stomach. '

To which Jerry, quick as a pistol-shot, retorted:--

'And you have the whole of the Pretender in your head, ' after whichthere was the devil to pay. 

There was a certain Chancellor in Ireland who was born a few years afterhis father and mother had separated. As he did not like Jerry, he usedto make a great fuss about how he should pronounce his name. At last inCourt one day he burst out:--

'Pray tell me what you wish me to call you--Mr. Kellegher, or Mr. Kellaire?'

'Call me anything you like, my lud, so long as you call me born inwedlock. '

The Chancellor did not score that time. 

At one time there were grave complaints made about the light-hearted wayin which Jerry handled his cases, and his practice fell off. He wasconversing with a very stupid judge, lately elevated to the Bench, andobserved:--

'It's a very extraordinary world: you have risen by your gravity, and Ihave fallen by my levity. '

He had a son who, in my time, had a large practice at the Bar, but Inever came across him, nor did I ever hear that there was anythingremarkable about him, except that he was not so witty as his father, which was not wonderful. 

After all, as Jerry was before my own experience, I must not delay overhim, so I will only give one more tale about him, and pass on. 

When Lord Avonmore got his peerage for voting for the Union, he had hispatent of nobility read out at a dinner-party, and it commenced, 'George, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. '

'Stop, ' cried Jerry, 'I object to that. The consideration is set out tooearly in the deed. '

This long digression over, I revert to my father about whose respectablepractice at the Four Courts I know nothing except that he allowed othersto become judges, and did not find solicitors putting his services up toauction. 

By the death of his elder brother, he succeeded to a property, nearDingle, on which he went to live and then got married, which was thewisest thing that he could do. 

My mother was Mary Hickson, and her descent was this wise. 

The Murrays were said to have come to Scotland from Moravia in the firstcentury; and a pretty bulky history of the clan reveals as much truthabout them as the author cared to put in when tired of inventing lessprobable facts. Sir Walter Murray, Lord of Drumshegrat, came to Irelandwith Edward de Bruce and was killed in battle, leaving three sons, oneof whom, christened Andrew, settled in County Down. Some of hisdescendants migrated to Bantry, where, in 1670, William Murray marriedAnn Hornswell, and was succeeded by his third son George, who was inturn succeeded by his eldest son William, who married Anne Grainger. Ofthe marriage, there was only one daughter Judith, who married RobertHickson, heir to the property. 

They had five sons and two daughters, the younger of whom married SirWilliam Cox, and the elder my father. 

The superior of my dear mother never drew the breath of life. She liveduntil I was twenty-five, and I never met any man who could say more thanI could for my mother, though equalled by what my own sons could say oftheirs, and she too came of the same stock, for I married my firstcousin, Julia Agnes Hickson. It is said no man is thoroughly happy untilhe is suitably married, an opinion I absolutely endorse; but happinessso great as my married life is not of public interest, and if it were, Ishould not wear my heart on my sleeve for general inspection. Anytribute from me to my dear wife would be superfluous; the devoted loveof our children has been the endorsement by the next generation of thefeelings which I have always felt towards her. 

She was the daughter of my mother's eldest brother, John Hickson, calledthe Sovereign of Dingle. He had powers to collect customs, to hold acourt, and to try cases in much the same way that a lord provost had. 

On one occasion when a case was to be tried, two attorneys appeared fromthe town of Tralee, about thirty miles off. Now John Hickson had his ownideas about the attorneys of those days--ideas such as all honest menhad, but dared not express. So he sent a crier through the town to saythat the court was adjourned for a fortnight. When the appointed dayarrived, the attorneys arrived also, so again the melodious tones of thecrier proclaimed through the town that the court was adjourned for yetanother fortnight, Captain Hickson remarking to his wife that he was notgoing to be helped to administer justice by those who earned theirliving on injustice. The attorneys gave it up in despair, leavingCaptain Hickson to lay down the law as he liked, and to do him justice, his ideas were more conducive to peace and order than the arguments ofIrish attorneys generally are. 

He was loved and revered by the people, so that when the cholera ragedin 1833 and 1834, and the constabulary were ordered to go into thehouses to remove the corpses (this to prevent the people 'waking' thedead, and so spreading the contagion), they dared not enter the cabinsunless Captain Hickson went with them, as the people were so enraged attheir dead being molested that they would have killed the police. Fortunately Captain Hickson had enough moral influence to make thepeople obey the law. 

In the eighties he would have been shot in the back by some scoundrelwho had primed himself with Dutch courage from adulterated whisky. 

He raised a Yeomanry Corps at the time of the Whiteboys to guard thecountry against these lawless bands, and against the dreaded Frenchinvasion. This regiment was called the Dingle Yeomanry, and the talesabout it are many. 

On one occasion when Captain Hickson was in London, the general fromDublin inspected the corps. In the absence of the commanding officer, his brother was ordered to parade the battalion, and being a nervousyoung man, he completely forgot all the words of command, so to theunconcealed amusement of the old martinet from the capital, heshouted:--

'Boys, do as you always do. '

It says well for the discipline of the regiment that they did notimplicitly obey the order. 

His mother, this Mrs. Judith Hickson, was the only one of mygrand-parents I ever saw, and very little impression she has left on mymemory, except a notion that she had less sense of humour than pertainsto most Irishwomen by the blessing of God and their own mother wit. 

My father was a Roman Catholic, and my mother a Protestant. By the termsof the marriage settlement, we were all brought up in her faith, whichoccasioned a tremendous row at that time, and nowadays would never betolerated by the priests. 

All the same my father was an obstinate man, not disposed to care muchfor the whole College of Cardinals, and indifferent if he were cursedwith bell and book. Of course he was not a good-tempered man, or hewould not have justified his nickname of Red Precipitate, but he sparedthe rod with me, and failed to keep me in order. I was the youngest of apretty large family and the pet into the bargain. 

My eldest brother, John, was drowned at St. Malo. He was unmarried, andhis profession was to do nothing as handsomely as he could. 

James was in the 13th Light Dragoons, and subsequently in the 11th. Hesaw no service, and was an excellent soldier at mess and off duty. I amnot qualified to speak with authority about his fulfilment of thetrumpery trivialities which fill up garrison life, but here is oneanecdote about him. 

Soon after Lord Cardigan took command of the 13th Light Dragoons, agreat many of the officers left the corps, and a man wrote to the papersto say that this was chiefly due to the great expense of the mess. 

My brother retorted in print that for his part the reason was due to itsbeing 'incompatible with my feelings as a gentleman to remain in theregiment as it is equally impossible to exchange out of a regiment thathas the undeserved misfortune to be commanded by his lordship. '

Edward lived at Dingle, and was much liked by the people there. He wasan active magistrate and a conscientious man. He married and left twosons, one in the Horse Artillery and the other a colonel in theEngineers. They have all joined the great majority. 

Robert, who chose to be an army surgeon, died in India, leaving mewithout a relation in the world of my own name. 

It reminds me of the story in _Charles O'Malley_ about the old family inwhich it was hereditary not to have any children. However, I alteredthat by having eleven of my own, two sons, John and Maurice, and fourdaughters being alive, at the present time. More power to them say I, inthe current phrase of good-will in Kerry. 

My sister Mary died at Bath when I was born. It was her health whichprevented me from being by birth what I am at heart, a Kerry man. 

Ellen was married to Robert, elder brother of the late Knight of Kerry, and her grand-daughter is married to Colonel Thorneycroft of Spion Kopfame. 

Ellen's sister, Julia, married Sir Peter FitzGerald, Knight of Kerry. The two therefore married brothers, and if there had been any more theymight have done the same. 

I suppose I ought to give the date of my birth, but despite all theefforts of those in Ireland, who loved me so much that they becameactive agents to convey me to heaven, I cannot yet give you the date ofmy death. 

My friend, Mr. Townshend Trench, is, I believe, writing a book to provethe world will come to an end in about thirty years' time, but that willsee me out, and those then alive may discover that the Great Landlordhas given the tenants an extension of the lease of the earth. 

I was born on December 17, 1824, and I have none of those infantilerecollections which are such an insult on the general attention when putin print. 

Still my earliest memory is so characteristic of much that was to followthat I set it down. 

The very first thing I remember is being placed on the seat of a trapbeside the local R. M. (Resident Magistrate), and thus going out, escorted by a party of soldiers, to collect tithes. 

I clapped my hands with glee, but an old woman by the road-side saidthat it was a shame to take out that innocent babe on such bloodthirstywork. 

I could ride before I could walk, and was always fond of the exercise. What Irishman is not?

My taste for this was fostered by my father, who had broken his leg whenyoung, and not only disliked walking, but had a slight limp, which didnot prevent him being in the saddle for many hours each day. 

As a child, I led a fresh, natural, out-of-doors, healthy life, exposedto wind and rain, and all the better for both. There are very few treesabout Dingle, and I quite agree with the remark of an American that itwas the most open country he had ever seen. 

I was always bathing, but I never got drowned, not even in liquor, although I have sat with some of the best in that capacity. I havemyself been pretty temperate in everything, to which I attribute mylongevity. And yet I am not sure that any rule can be laid down in thisrespect, for I have known men who saturated themselves in alcohol untilthey ought to have been kept out of sight of all decent people livelonger than those that have kept straight in every way. 

In proof of this, let me quote the delightful account of a centagenarianout of Smith's _History of Kerry_, a book already referred to, and whichcan now be finally put back on its shelf, dry as dust, as Carlyle mightsay, 'but pregnant with food for thought, ay, and for grimmirth, '--those are not exactly the words of the Sage of Chelsea, butjust have the rub of his tongue about them. 

'Mr. Daniel MacCarty died in February 1751, ' as the account said, 'inthe 112th year of his age. He lived during his whole life in the baronyof Iveragh, and buried four wives. He married a fifth in theeighty-fourth year of his age, and she but a girl of fourteen, by whomhe had several children. He was always a very healthy man, no cold everaffecting him, and he could not bear the warmth of a shirt at night, butput it under his pillow. He drank for many of the last years of his lifegreat quantities of rum and brandy, which he called _the naked truth_;and if, in compliance to other gentlemen, he drank claret or punch, healways took an equal quantity of spirits to qualify those liquors: thishe called a wedge. No man ever saw him spit. His custom was to walkeight or ten miles in a winter's morning over mountains with greyhoundsand finders, and he seldom failed to bring home a brace of hares. He wasan innocent man, and inherited the social virtues of the antientMilesians. He was of a florid complexion, looked amazingly well for aperson of his age and manners of life, for his use of spirituous liquorswas prodigious, a custom that much prevails in these baronies. '

Indeed, no one who was slightly acquainted with the characteristics ofthe inhabitants of the Kingdom of Kerry would suggest that totalabstinence was even to-day their predominant virtue. 

It is the fashion to say that it is a good thing to be one of a largefamily. From a financial point of view I am quite certain that thereverse is preferable, and as I was the youngest of nine--two othersbesides those I mentioned, James and Anne, coming to early demises--Ireceived as many kicks and cuffs from my brethren as I did halfpence andaffection from my parents. So, like Thackeray, as a child I sympathisedwith Lord MacTurk who wished to cut off the heads of his brethren. Now Ihave survived them all, and I fondly regret the sounds of voices thatare still. 

But as I sit in my arm-chair and ruminate over the past, which every oldman must do in the intervals of reading the _Times_, going to the club, or losing his money by careful attention to speculation, I have theconsolation of remembering that I did as much mischief as any otherchild. To be a really good child means that the animal is a prig orunhealthy. To-day I am fond of all my grandchildren, but the one I likebest is the one which proves himself or herself the naughtiest for themoment. 

This is a hard saying for parents, and not a good precept for the young, but there is solid truth in it and a bit of common-sense too, for it isbest to get the original sin out in the years of innocence. 

CHAPTER III

EDUCATION

Perhaps the biggest wrench in life is going to school. It may not seemso very much afterwards--as the boy said of the tooth when he looked atit in the dentist's forceps--but the wrench is really bad. 

I learned my letters from my mother, and picked up a few othersmatterings before I had daily lessons from a tutor at Dingle. Strangeto say, a very good classical education could have been obtained therein the thirties, better, so far as I can estimate, than could have beenexpected from a town double the size at the same period in England. 

At the age of ten I was sent to Huddard's, then a very sound school inDublin. I was well enough taught, not caned enough for my deserts, though more than sufficed for my feelings, and sufficiently fed, but atthe end of two years I had to leave owing to ill health. 

An apothecary, who selfishly recollected that the more medicines I tookthe better for him if not for me, converted me into a human receptaclefor his empirical abominations, but another surgeon, who was rathertardily called in, packed me off to the country. 

One of the leading Dublin physicians certified that I had only one lung;but as the other has served me faithfully for sixty-nine years, I amrather sceptical as to the accuracy of his diagnosis. 

I remember very little about Huddard's, except that it was in MountjoySquare, and about a hundred boys were herded there in unsoughtproximity. We boarders always fought the town boys, but also had tocajole them in humiliating ways to smuggle us in contraband articles offood. The meals at Huddard's were fairly good, no doubt, as school faregoes, but the sugary stick-jaw stuff for which the soul of a boy longswas naturally not part of the official bill of fare. The bullying was ofa reasonable nature, or at all events I could hold my own with the bestof them, being indifferent to punishment so long as I could hit outeffectively from the shoulder. One of the ushers, a dwarf of malignantdisposition, was an awful tyrant, and we always had an ardent desire totar and feather him, only we did not know how to set about the operationeven if we had ventured to attempt it. 

After a happy interval of convalescence at home, I was sent to a smallerschool kept by Mr. Hogg at Limerick. One of the boys there subsequentlybecame that illustrious ornament of the Bench, Lord Justice Barry. 

He was a very eloquent man, counted so even at the Irish Bar, where acertain high-flown loquacity is pretty prevalent, and had a greatrepute. He arrived at Cork once, and had to fight his way through adense throng to get into court. On inquiring the reason of the crowd, hewas told that everybody wanted to hear the big speech that was expectedfrom Councillor Barry. 

'Well, unless you make way for me it's disappointed every mother's sonof you will be, for I am twin to Councillor Barry, and I never heardtell he had a brother. '

He carried on the old-fashioned habit of after-dinner conviviality, andused to sit drinking three hours after the wine had been put on thetable, which was why I never accepted his hospitality in after years, for, as I said before, I am a man of moderation. 

In my young days it was the regular thing to bring in whisky-punch afterdinner; and for many years I regularly took one tumbler and never had asecond, not once to the best of my recollection. 

There is a good deal of change in the habits of life. When I was a boycoffee was unknown for breakfast, cocoa had not become known as abeverage, and tea was regularly drunk. We seldom took lunch, nor did theladies, and afternoon tea was unheard of. Instead, tea was brought intothe drawing-room about eight in the evening, and was always drunk veryweak and sweet. In those times it was invariably from China and prettycostly. 

We dined at five. Dinners were very solid. Soup was a pretty regularopening, but could be dispensed with without comment, and it was almostalways greasy. At Dingle fish was pretty plentiful, but sweets wereregarded as a great extravagance. 

I remember, when grown up, dining with an elderly man near Cahirciveen, who had a turbot for which he must have paid at least eight shillings, but he apologised for not having a pudding on account of the necessityfor economy, though a pudding would not have cost him eightpence. 

Made dishes were very few and badly cooked. The food was chiefly joints, and, in nine cases out of ten, roast mutton. Vegetables were not so mucheaten as now, always excepting potatoes, which were consumed in largequantities. There was practically no fruit, except a few apples andoranges at Christmas. 

Men sat very long over their wine. Sherry used to be served at dinnerand often claret afterwards, but the great beverage was port. I aminclined to think that port has sensibly deteriorated since my youngdays. It was as a rule more fruity then, but we never talked of ourlivers, as subalterns and undergraduates do nowadays. 

Port used to come direct to Dingle. It was an easy harbour 'to run, ' andthere was some smuggling. 

On one occasion some soldiers were sent to protect the gauger, who wasbent on making an important seizure. A few of the inhabitants of Dingletook the opportunity of entertaining the officer, and whilst heslumbered from the effects of their hospitality, the opportunity formaking the seizure was lost. 

There is no particular reason why I should tell the following storyhere, but it is worth recording, and I don't know any other part of myreminiscences where it is more likely to slip in appropriately. 

In Kerry in 1815, the farmers had been an extra long time fattening uptheir pigs. After the Peace, prices all fell, and though the farmerswere reluctant, they had to yield to circumstances. One day the dealerswere buying at extremely low rates in Tralee market, when the postmanbrought the news that Napoleon had escaped from Elba. 

Instantly all the farmers broke off their bargains, and proceeded tostart homeward with their swine, shouting:--

'Hurrah for Boney that rose the pigs. '

My mother often told me of this scene, which she herself witnessed. 

There was always a distinct sympathy with France, owing to the smugglingfrom that land, and after the English had prohibited the exportation ofwool, it was smuggled into France, whence were brought back silks andbrandy. 

The geography of Kerry is ideal for landing contraband store, and Ishould say even more was done in this respect locally than on the coastof Scotland. 

There is a certain amount of good-will between people whose mutualinterests are similar until they fall out, and the hope of a Frenchlanding in Ireland, though never very serious, always fanned the nativedisaffection to the Government in the West. 

The veracity of an Irishman is never considerable, for as a rule he willsay what he thinks likely to please you rather than state any unpleasantfact. Of course the gauger--excise officer--was an especially unpopularpersonage, and I doubt if a tithe of the lies told to him were everconsidered worthy of being confessed at all. 

O'Connell's family made much money by smuggling, which was a pursuitthat carried not the slightest moral reproach. Indeed 'to go agin theGovernment' in any sort of way has always been an act ofsuper-excellence. 

The most lucrative side of the commercial enterprises of MorganO'Connell was his trade in contraband goods. In Derrynane Bay, he andhis brother landed cargoes which were sent over the hills on horses'backs to receivers in Tralee. 

Of O'Connell himself most stories have been told, but it is difficult toindicate the enormous influence he had over the lower classes in his owncountry. 

Years before George IV. Had aptly expressed the situation amid hismaudlin tears over Catholic emancipation. 

'Wellington is King of England, O'Connell is King of Ireland, and Isuppose I'm only considered Dean of Windsor. '

As an advocate, the Liberator had many of the attributes of Kenealy, andhis popularity was so great that he was often briefed in every case atan assize. 

There is no doubt that he bullied judges, was allowed enormous laxity inbrowbeating opposing counsel and witnesses, and, like Father O'Flynn, had a wonderful way with him, so far as the jury was concerned. 

When I saw him in Dublin, I at once realised how true must be the bulkof the stories of his great conceit. He has been elevated into asuperhuman being by the posthumous praise of hundreds of blatant moborators. 

Dan had two brothers, John and James. The latter was the first baronet, and noted for his witty sayings. 

He presided at a dinner given for the purpose of presenting an addressto the manager of a bank. On the toast of the Army and Navy beingproposed, the only man who could return thanks for the former was asolicitor named Murphy, who said that if he were forced to respond tothe toast, it clearly proved what a peaceful community they lived in, adding:--

'It is such a long time since I laid by the sash and the sword, that Ihave forgotten my drill. '

'But you have never forgotten the charge, ' observed the chairman, whohad a long bill from Murphy in his pocket at the time. 

On another occasion, a lady spoke to James about subscribing to theRoman Catholic Cathedral at Killarney. 

'For my part, ' she observed, 'it's little I can do in my lifetime, but Ihave left all my money for the good of my soul. '

'I believe, ma'am, ' says James, 'you were an original shareholder in theProvincial Bank. The shares are now quoted at eighty and they pay sixper cent. That is very much like twenty-one per cent. On the originalcapital. '

'I am not a clever man like you at making these calculations, ' repliesthe lady; 'I have higher and holier things to think about. '

'Don't say that again to me, ma'am, ' says he. 'I put my money intofarms, and I get five per cent, from a grumbling and unsatisfactory setof tenants. And what are you getting? Twenty-one per cent. In this worldand salvation in the next. It's the most damnable interest I ever heardtell of, either in this world or any other. '

Yet another tale about him. 

He had received an unconscionable bill of costs from an attorney, andhappening to meet a Roman Catholic bishop in Cork, he asked him if anattorney could ever be saved. 

'Why not? Even an extortioner can be if he make ample restitution in hislife-time, and dies fortified with the rites of the Church. '

'May be so, my lord, ' replied Sir James, 'you know more about thesethings than I do, but if it is as you say, you are taking a confoundedamount of unnecessary trouble about the rest of us. '

The bishop was not a bit disconcerted. 

'I am an honest labourer striving to be worthy of my hire, ' heexplained. 

And at that Sir James left it, because he said it was not respectful toask too many invidious questions about a man who had the making of yoursoul at his own will. 

All this is a digression from my education, which was as desultory asthese reminiscences. 

After a spell at Limerick I was again sent home ill, and for six monthsI really had to be treated as an invalid. I was always very fond ofbooks, notably history, and I think I have read pretty well every bookpublished upon the history of Ireland. It was at this time I beganteaching myself a bit, and that is the teaching which is better than anyother, except what one has to learn against one's own will and for one'sown advantage in the school of life. Like a good many other people I wasled to history not only by a shortage of lighter books at home, but alsoby curiosity aroused by the novels of Sir Walter Scott. In the way ofpromoting better reading, I believe Scott has been far more beneficialthan any other writer of fiction in English. 

I was for a short time at school in Exeter, and then at a rather roughestablishment at Woolwich, where my father wished me to have the tuitionin mathematics which could be obtained from the masters in the Academyat irregular times. By all accounts the fagging and bullying in thatestablishment were appalling. The headmaster of the school I was at wasan able fellow, and many of the cadets used to come to have a grind withhim. Some of their tales were 'hair-erectors, ' as the Americans say. 

One new boy had the misfortune to sprain his ankle, and to incur thefury of the head of dormitory on the same evening. The latter tied hisgame ankle up to his thigh, and fastening him by the wrist to the bottomof the bed, made him stand the better part of the night on his badankle. 

This reminds me of the story of a certain royal prince going to aneducational establishment and being asked who his parents were. On hisreply, the senior--or 'John'--gave him a terrific _cuff_ on the side ofthe head saying:--

'That's for your father, the prince. '

And before the half-stunned boy recovered, he received a stinging blowon the other ear with:--

'That's for your mother, the princess, and now black my boots. '

His Highness could say nothing, but in time he grew to be the biggestand the worst bully. 

Then the younger brother of his former tormentor came, and the princesent for him, and telling him what his brother had done some yearsbefore, made him bend down and flogged him so unmercifully that he hadto go into hospital. 

Years after, when in an important position, he met his former victim, now a general, and congratulating him on his career said:--

'Perhaps I made your success by giving you that tanning at Sandhurst. '

I wonder whether there was murder in the heart of the grim old warriorat the recollection. Of course that would not be strange, for many atime officers have been actually shot in action by their own men. 

Here is a perfectly true story, only neither the men nor the officerneed be specified. 

A colonel who had grossly mismanaged the regiment knew his fate wassealed. 

So when the men paraded for the engagement, he said:--

'I know you mean to shoot me to-day, but for God's sake don't do sountil we have won the battle. '

This was greeted with a cheer, and he came back safe to be decorated andto play whist at his club as badly as any member in it. 

I am not sure that cards ought not to be considered part of every lad'straining. If a man goes through life without touching a card, heprobably loses a good deal of innocent amusement, and debars himselffrom much pleasant society. If he learns to play when grown up, he mayfind it a costly and unsatisfactory branch of education. But if he istaught to play reasonably well as a boy, and is shown that excellentgames can be had without gambling--I do not consider an infinitesimalstake, in proportion to his means, gambling--he will have an extraamusement made for him and a relaxation after his day's work. 

A near relative of my own gets his club cronies to play bridge with hisson, aged eighteen, and pays his losses, in order that he may bethoroughly grounded in the game. The lad is a capital boy, and all thebetter for his early association with elder men on their own level. 

One of the resources of my old age is three games of picquet every nightafter dinner with my wife, and very much I enjoy them. There is oftenthe fashionable bridge played in the room by my children and theirfriends, but I have never taken a hand, though in younger days I deriveda fair amount of diversion from whist. 

CHAPTER IV

FARMING

My years of schooling having come to an end, I was back in Ireland infull enjoyment of youth, high spirits, and thoughtless carelessness. These holiday times were delightful. I could be in the saddle all day ifI liked, was free to shoot or bathe as I pleased, had dogs at mydisposal, could pass the time of day with all sorts and conditions ofmen--a thing which I have relished all my life--and in fact led the gayexistence of the younger offshoot of an Irish squire. 

In those days things were not so impecunious in Ireland as theysubsequently became, but there was always a vivacious Hibernian scornfor false pretension, and a determination to have the best possibletime, such as you can read in Lever's novels of old, and the capitaltales of those two clever ladies, Miss Martin and Miss Somerville, to-day. 

It is perfectly true that there are many Irish landlords in sportingcounties who cannot have three hundred a year, and yet all their sonsand daughters manage to hunt four days a week. 

This would be impossible out of Ireland, and is absolutelyincomprehensible even there; but the fact remains that it is done, andall one can remark is to echo the patter of the conjuror:--

'Wonderful, isn't it?'

I, however, was not destined to be left a derelict at home, as falls tothe hapless lot of far too many good fellows in Ireland. 

There were a good many family counsels, and the authorities could notmake up their minds what to do with me. However, I thought farming wasthe idlest occupation, and suggested it should be my profession--an ideahailed with rapture, principally because it saved everybody the troubleof racking their brains about me. 

Personally, I have often regretted that what in modern phrase may becalled the 'Stevenson boom' did not coincide with my search for acareer. Big posts were in due time going for engineers; and those youngmen who had the stamp of apprenticeship to, or association with, thegreat man could get almost anything in the days of the fever for railwayconstruction. 

Even later than the period I am now recalling, the journey from Dublinto Dingle would take more than two days, and, so far as I can recollect, it certainly took five from Dingle to London. Those coaching journeyswere terrible experiences in wet weather, for you were drenched outsideand suffocated inside, whilst you paid more than three times the presentrailway fare for the miserable privilege of this uncomfortable means oftransit. 

The old posting hotels used to be uncommonly good and comfortable, whilst they did a thriving trade. The coach purported to give you ampletime to breakfast and dine at certain capital hostels, but by a privatearrangement between mine host and the guard and driver, the meals usedto be abruptly closured in order to save the landlord's larder. 

On the way down from Dublin, a thirty minutes' pause was allowed at Naasfor breakfast; but on the occasion of my story, as well as on everyother, after a quarter of an hour the waiter announced the coach wasjust starting. 

Everybody ran out to regain their seats, except one commercialtraveller, who picked up all the teaspoons and put them in the teapotbefore calmly resuming his meal. 

Back came the waiter with:--

'Not a moment to spare, sir. '

'All right, ' said the traveller; 'which of the passengers has taken theteaspoons?'

The waiter gave one glance of horror, and then proceeded to have everyone on the coach examined for the missing articles. 

By the time that the commercial traveller had calmly finished a heartymeal there was nearly a riot, and then he emerged from the coffee-room, and suggested that the waiter had better look in the teapot. 

By the way, I don't fancy that he regularly travelled on that road, forhe would have been a marked man at Naas for years to come. 

I was seventeen at the time when I had decided, with parentalacquiescence, to be a farmer, and I was sent to learn my profession tothe south of Scotland, to a farmer named Bogue. 

I there acquired, at all events, one curious fact, which has stuck in myhead ever since, and it is thus:--

Scotland and Ireland are governed by the same Sovereign, Lords, andCommons. Scotland is the best farmed country in Europe, and Irelandabout the worst. 

One pair of horses in Scotland were then supposed to cultivate fiftyacres of tillage, and in Ireland the average was one horse to fiveacres. Indeed it is in both cases much the same to-day. 

In reality a farm is a workshop from which you turn out as much produceas possible. But on an Irish farm it is the habit to squeeze out thelast possible ounce without putting anything in, for it is not run withan eye on future years, but only in a hand-to-mouth, beggar-the-soilkind of way, without a thought beyond contemporary exigencies. 

There were several other pupils with Bogue, but I stuck to the businessmore than the rest, who were perpetually gallivanting into Kelso, oreven going up to Edinburgh, where they learnt nothing which taught themtheir trade or put money into their pockets. Therefore it happened thatI was selected by Bogue to have an excellent practical demonstration offarming, after this wise. He had a pretty sharp illness, and left me fora short time full management of all his six hundred acres, and that bitof responsibility made a man of me once and for all. I stepped out ofboyhood instantly, and became an adult in feelings and bearing; but tothis day I hope my sense of fun is only keener than it was as a lad. 

I acquired a good deal of common sense in Scotland, and learnt toobserve for myself, a thing many men never acquire, and on theirdeathbeds they will never be able to enumerate the opportunities theyhave consequently lost. 

As I was to be a farmer, I thought it was no use to confine my attentionto the one I was on, but contracted the habit, when work was at allslack, of going about to pick up what wrinkles I could from otherproprietors, as well as to make observations on my own account. 

Subsequently I have made two agricultural tours through Scotland for thesame purpose, getting as far north as Sutherland, in order to find outhow the Highland farmer dealt with more barren soil under a lesspropitious climate. I have noted more improvement in farming in Ayrshirein the interval than in any other county. Yet there is a letter inexistence by Burns in which he observes that Ayrshire lairds are gettingEnglish and East Lothian notions about rents, and raising them so highthat it will soon be a wilderness. 

The fact is that the Scotsman is a farmer by nature, but the Irishman isa farmer by inclination. 

An Irishman tries to exist on land cultivated by the minimum amount oflabour, and does not farm a bit better if his land is cheaper. 

Every farmer in Scotland and England is laying down his land in grass, and giving up tillage as fast as he can. It is notorious that Ireland ismore suitable for pasture than tillage, and yet the Government haveconstituted a Board to break up the rich grazing lands in Ireland anddivide them into small tillage farms, on which the tenants could not geta decent living even if they had it free of rent and taxes. 

Old Bogue was a bachelor by profession, and his polygamistic tendencieswere duly concealed, though pretty generally known, as most things arein the country. He had as housekeeper a woman so skinny that it made youfeel cold to look at her, and her disposition was on a par with herappearance. Of course, it suited the national thrift, particularlycongenial to Bogue, to feed us meanly, but we did not relish herparsimonious economies. 

There was one thing none of us might shirk, and that was regularattendance at kirk on Sunday. I have been a church-going man all mylife--in my late years in London I have especially appreciated thebeautiful services at St. Anne's, Soho--but the kirk has always been thebreaking of precious ointment over an unworthy head, so far as I amconcerned. The improvised prayer, that is always so carefully prepared, and is often one delivered in regular rotation, always seems to merather humbugging for that reason, and the tremendously long sermons, which have a minimum of three quarters of an hour, no matter what thetext or the ability of the preacher, are to me a vexation of spirit. Ihave occasionally heard good sermons in kirk, but I think the standardof Scottish preaching has always been overrated. 

Moreover, I agree in the main with the American critic of sermons, whosaid if a preacher can't strike ile in ten minutes he has got a badorgan, or he is boring in the wrong place. It is always unfair to borein the pulpit, because the congregation have no means of retaliationexcept by subsequently staying away, and in the country that is notcompatible with the public worship of their Maker. 

We have all heard the traditional stories about the divines who, havingfound the sand of the hour-glass exhausted, calmly reversed it andcontinued for a second spell, to the complete satisfaction of thecongregations. But in my experience only one preacher could have donethat without unendurably provoking me, and he was Archbishop Magee, ofwhom I shall have something to say when I am dealing with County Cork. 

For the Scots in character I conceived much respect and littleenthusiasm. If there is anything more remarkable than the hard-workingpowers of the Scottish farmer it is his capacity for hard drinking. Butthat only makes him offensive in his brief conviviality and morose inthe long subsequent sulkiness. Whereas I defy you to be seriously angrywith a drunken Irishman, if you have a due sense of humour--and withoutthat you have lost the salt of life. To my mind there is somethingaustere in the better characteristics of the Scot, and also somethinghypocritical about his morality. You always hear that professed inScotland, and never in Ireland. But in the latter fewer illegitimatechildren are born than in any other country in Europe, and inScotland--notably Glasgow--the high percentage has become sadlyproverbial. Yet, despite these adverse points, the Scottish characterhas a native grandeur which must provoke admiration, though all mywarmth of feelings goes to my own oft-erring countrymen. 

I returned to Ireland in 1843 with the intention of farming in Kerry onthe scientific system I had learned in Berwickshire. However, I foundthe land so subdivided that it was not only difficult, but impossible, to obtain a farm of sufficient size to return a reasonable percentage onthe necessary outlay. The population of Kerry was then 293, 880, and theland was divided into 25, 848 farms, the holders of which, I may say, entirely depended for existence on 26, 030 acres of potatoes. To give anexample of the intense love of subdivision, I knew a case where onehorse was the property of three 'farmers, ' and as they differed as towho was to pay for the fourth shoe, they sold the horse, which wasbought by an uncle of mine. 

Few farmers ate meat except at Christmas. They wore homespun flannel andfrieze, and their only luxury, whisky, was obtainable at a quarter ofits present price. A young couple were considered ready to start inmarried life when they had obtained a 'farm, ' consisting of a couple ofacres for potatoes and a mud hovel for themselves; and thus apopulation, dependent on a precarious root, increased very rapidly. Itwas thicker near the sea coast than inland. The rents then were aboutdouble what they are now (though half what they had been at thebeginning of the nineteenth century), yet, with good potato crops, people seemed content and times were fairly good. I should say there wasnot such general drunkenness as in later times, and very little porterwas consumed in those days--at all events outside Dublin. What schoolsthere were were shockingly bad, and reading, not to say writing, was anexceptional accomplishment, not only among the labouring classes, butamong those who held their heads much higher. This of course impressedme coming straight from Scotland, where a really grand education hasbeen the national birthright for generations. 

I began to farm about sixty acres near Dingle, and gave my entire timeto it, an assiduity I have compared in my mind to that of the Norwegianreclaiming the little arable spots on the mountain. We both workedpretty hard for very scanty results. I did not even live on my tinyproperty, but with my mother--my father had died after I returned frommy English schools and before I went to Kelso. 

Still matters were not long satisfactory, owing to the failure of thepotato crop in 1845, when the mortality became fearful in consequence. 

So at the very end of the year I migrated from Kerry to become anassistant land agent in Cork, and thus really embarked on the professionof my life--one which, on the whole, I have most thoroughly and heartilyenjoyed. 

I hoped then that I had not done with my beloved Kerry, and myassociation with that great kingdom has indeed been lifelong. I havealways understood the feeling of the Irish emigrants who have had sodsof their native earth sent out to them to the New World. _Heimweh_ isafter all a good thing, and Kerry to me would always seem to beappealing, however far I had roamed. 

CHAPTER V

LAND AGENT IN CORK

Had I been able to obtain a reasonably large farm near Dingle, I shouldnever have become a land agent, and I most certainly should never havegiven evidence before any Commission. 

In default of adequate land accommodation, I embarked on my professionby becoming assistant land agent to my brother-in-law, the Knight ofKerry, who was agent to Sir George Colthurst. I lived with the Knight atInniscarra in County Cork, not far from Blarney. 

From that time onward I worked steadily, and as I take my ease at theCarlton to-day, I really feel I have done as much honest labour in mycareer as has any man. 

In proof I may cite a day's record some years later, taken almost atrandom from my diary. 

I began with an hour in my Cork office, went by train to Killarney, ajourney of three and a half hours, where I spent three hours in myoffice, and then by train on to Tralee, a further one and a quarterhours, where I had an hour and a half in my office in that town, andthen drove out to Edenburn, seven miles, to sleep. That done fairlyoften makes a decided strain on endurance and mental concentration, because the affairs at each place were of course for different landlordsand needed the memorising of a fresh section of business all absolutelyintrusted to me, whilst the train service in Kerry then and now is notcalculated to promote mental tranquillity or facilitate business. 

Having alluded to my diary, I had better explain that I kept no journaluntil 1852, and subsequently to that year it consisted merely of baldmemoranda of my movements; therefore it has not been of the least use inpreparing these reminiscences. 

In 1846 I became a Government Inspector of Land Improvements andDrainage Works, and in that capacity went to Bantry, where I saw theappalling destitution caused by the famine, with which I shall deal inthe next chapter. 

I had made application for this post before I left Kerry, directly I hadfound my farm too small for my requirements, and I received theappointment from the Chairman of the Irish Board of Works. Practicallyspeaking the pay was about a pound a day with allowances. 

This post in no way interfered with my duties as a land agent then, butI afterwards resigned it owing to the increasing exigencies of myprofession. 

It may be as well to detail for readers other than Irish what are theavocations of a land agent, especially as the class in Ireland willprobably soon be as extinct as the dodo. 

The duties of an Irish land agent comprise a great deal of office work, drawing up agreements with tenants, receiving rent, superintendingagricultural and all landlords' improvements, sitting as magistrate andrepresenting the landlord when the latter is absent at poor-lawmeetings, road sessions, and on grand juries. 

With very rare exceptions the salary has been five per cent, on therents received. So the agent has been paid five per cent, on all themoney he has put into the landlord's pockets, whilst an architect hasalways received five per cent. On all he took out of them, anarrangement which in the latter instance has not worked at all well forthe landlords. 

The tendency has gradually been to consolidate and amalgamate landagencies, for as the difficulty of getting rents increased, morecompetent men of experience and judgment were needed by the landlords. As a proof of the trust reposed in me, I may mention that at one time Ireceived the rents of one-fifth of the whole county of Kerry--and thatin the worst times. 

Such a task is not one to be envied, however joyously a man may take upthe burden of his daily toil, and of course the agents as the outwardand visible signs of the distant or absentee landlords obtained thegreater share of the hatred felt for the latter. 

In the worst period Lord Derby received threats that if he did notreduce his rents, his agent would be murdered. 

He coolly replied:--

'If you think you will intimidate me by shooting my agent you aregreatly mistaken. '

That is exactly the reply the agents desired the landlords to make, butit did not conduce to making their own existences any the more secure orenviable. 

Of course in the due working out of the Wyndham Act, land agents will beutterly ruined. 

There are no openings for them because they are too old to commencelearning another profession, and they will not get employment under theCounty Council because they belong to the landlord class and haveunflinchingly fought the battles of the landlords. 

The agents are a class who have devoted their time and risked theirlives in order to get in the rents due to their employers, and there isnot the smallest chance--save in a few isolated and exceptionalcases--of their being kept on when the landlords will have only theirown demesne in their own hands and employ some underling, such as abailiff in England, to collect the stray rents of the few cottagers whomay still chance to be tenants. 

Judge Ross stated that there was no more deserving or painstaking classin Ireland than the land agents, and he considered it a great hardshipthat under the Wyndham Act they obtain no compensation. 

By agreement in most cases they receive three per cent. Of the purchasemoney, but that is a very poor sinking fund to provide for a middle-agedgentleman, who has probably a family to support; and absolute bankruptcymust be the result if there is, as on several large properties, an agentwith a couple of assistants. 

When the Ashbourne Act was passed in 1885, it was never contemplatedthat the purchases would be on a wholesale scale. As a matter of factonly a few estates were sold, and on the purchase price of one of thosefor which I was agent I received two per cent. It should be also bornein mind that the profession of a land agent in Ireland is on a farhigher social plane than in England. In many cases the younger son orbrother of the landlord is the agent for the family property; and insome instances this has worked uncommonly well. In other cases, gentlemen by birth conducted the business, or else the administration ofseveral estates was consolidated and carried on from one office. 

In every case the billet was regarded as one for life, only forfeited bygross misconduct, and the relations between landlord and agent have beennearly always of an intimate and cordial character. Each agent began asan assistant, obtaining an independent post by selection and influence, and few entered the profession unless they had reasonable prospects of adefinite post on their own account in due course. 

In my time the landlord was the sole judge of the agent'squalifications, but the profession has become a branch of theEngineering Surveyor's Institution. 

As may be imagined, there are now remarkably few candidates for thenecessary examinations, because it is virtually annihilated. 

Things were very different when I embarked without mistrust on a careerwhich has landed me comfortably into my eighties, although underGovernment every appointment has to be compulsorily vacated at the ageof sixty-five. No one starting now could anticipate any such result inold age, and so without affectation I can say _autres temps autresmoeurs_, which may be freely translated as 'present times much theworst. '

More pleasant is it to turn to a few brief memories of Cork. It was acheerful place at the time I am speaking of, for there was plenty ofentertaining and truly genial hospitality. The general depression causedby famine, fever, and Fenians hardly affected the great town, and afterthose funereal shadows had once passed, Cork was as gay as any one couldreasonably desire. 

The townsfolk are very witty and clever at giving nicknames, as thefollowing little tales will show. 

When a citizen in Cork makes money, he generally builds a house, and thehigher up the hill his house is situated, the more is thought of him. 

Mr. Doneghan, a highly respectable tallow chandler, built a fineresidence early in the nineteenth century, which he called Waterloo. 

The populace said it should have been named Talavera (_i. E. _Tallow-vera), and as that it is known to this day. 

Mr. Maguire, who was Member for Cork, and Lord Mayor of the City intothe bargain, was very influential in the promotion of a gas company. With the money he made out of it, he reared a rather lofty mansion, which was promptly christened the Lighthouse. 

All butter in Cork is sold at the wharves, and the casks are brandedwith the quality of the butter they contain. One man made a fortune outof the first class butter on its merits, and out of the sixth classbutter, which he put in the first class casks and sold on the testimonyof the brand on the wood. This became in time notorious to most peopleexcept the more unsophisticated of his clients, and when he embarked onbricks and mortar his house was generally known as Brandenburg. 

One more and I have done with these baptismal sobriquets. 

A lady on a Queenstown steamer had put her foot down the bunker's hole, and broke her ankle through the accident. She brought an action againstthe company, duly proved negligence on the part of the employés, andobtained substantial damages. These considerably assisted her inerecting a rather attractive mansion, which she decidedly resented beingcalled Bunker's Hill. 

Some people have their own ideas about the definition of a gentleman, asa certain rather diminutive racing man found to his cost. 

It was at a meeting close to Cork, and he was standing next a burlyfarmer close to the rails when the horses were nearly ready to start. 

Pointing to one disreputable-looking ruffian about to mount, heobserved:--

'That fellow has no pretensions to be a gentleman-rider. '

The farmer caught him by the collar of his coat and the seat of hisbreeches, and shook him as a mastiff would a rat. 

'Mind yourself, small man, ' said he, 'that's a recognised gentleman inthese parts. '

There was a mighty shindy, and when the farmer was told his victim was aprominent English peer, he retorted:--

'Well, that won't make him a judge of an Irish gentleman. '

In the last chapter I mentioned that the preacher I most admired wasArchbishop Magee. I had the privilege of frequently hearing him in Cork, where he drew crowded congregations to a temporary church--the cathedralbeing under repair. 

I never heard any one who so magnetised me from the pulpit, and I am byno means prone to admire sermons. There was a sort of mesmerism in thevery eloquence of Magee which kept my eyes riveted on his lips--ratherbig, bulgy lips in an expressive, sensitive face. An hour beneath himsped marvellously fast, and more than once in Cork I have heard himpreach for that length. The impression he made on me has never beeneffaced, and it was with no surprise I learnt in due course that hebecame Archbishop of York. 

The late Lord Derby said that the most eloquent speech he ever heard inor out of the House of Lords was Magee's speech on the Church Act, theperoration of which--quoting from memory after many years--ran:--'MyLords, I will not, I cannot, and I dare not vote for that mostunhallowed bill which lies on your Lordships' table. '

Have all Magee stories been told?

I am afraid so. Yet in the hope that a few may be new to some, thoughold to others--who are invited to skip them--here are just a smallbatch. 

When he was a dean, he one day attended a debate on tithes in the Houseof Commons, and was subsequently putting on his overcoat, when a RadicalMember courteously assisted him, whereupon he remarked:--

'I am very much obliged to you, sir, for reversing the policy of yourfriends inside, who are taking the coats off our backs. '

This was equalled by the wife of an Irish landlord who lost her purse inthe Ladies' Gallery of the House of Commons. 

Mrs. Gladstone, who had been sitting next her, after kindly assisting inthe ineffectual search, observed:--

'I hope there was not much in it. '

'No, it was a nice little purse I had had for a long time, but thanks toyour husband there was nothing in it. '

An Irish story of Magee's concerns an Orange clergyman in Fermanagh, whoasked leave to preach a sermon by Magee. Now, this clergyman, who was anambitious man, was rather ashamed of his mother, and would not let herlive at the parsonage, but had taken lodgings for her in the town. Magee, moreover, always a moderate man, did not like Orange sermons, andmost certainly had never composed one. As he good naturedly did not wantto offend the other, he said he would give him a capital sermon todeliver if he--Magee--might select the text. 

'Of course, of course, ' assented the other; 'what is it?'

'"From that time His disciple took her to his own house. "'

Even this was hardly so cutting as his remark, when a bishop, to aclergyman of whom he did not think highly, but who upbraided him for notgiving him a living. 

'Sir, if it were raining livings, the utmost I could do would be to lendyou an umbrella. '

Mention of Magee suggests an ecclesiastical tale concerning a mostconvivial attorney--George Faith by name--who had rather a red nose, which he explained was caused by wearing tight boots. 

His father in old age got married a second time, and George was askedwhy his stepmother was like Dr. Newman. 

The answer was because she had embraced the ancient Faith. 

Among old time Irish members, Joe Ronayne, M. P. For Cork, was among themost diverting. 

He was a railway contractor, and much wanted some additional ground atthe terminus of the line, which the proprietor, Lord Ventry, would notsell. 

The size of the coveted patch was only seven feet long by three broad. Mr. Ronayne grimly retorted:--

'That's very strange, for it is exactly the amount of ground I'd like togive him, ' i. E. For his grave. 

Another experience of Ronayne's was to the following tune. 

He had obtained advances from a local bank for his railway contract tothe satisfaction of both parties, and when asked by the manager for somewrinkles about the making of a railway, replied:--

'The best thing is to run it into a soft bank. '

He was a plucky chap as well as a witty one, for owing to some internalmalady, from which he died, he had to have his leg amputated, at thesame time resigning his seat for Cork. 

Addressing the surgeon, he observed:--

'I cannot stand for the borough any longer, but I shall certainly stumpthe constituency as a county candidate. '

Poor fellow, he was all too soon an accepted candidate for his passageover to the great majority. 

A certain attorney named Nagle used to do most of his work. 

Speaking of another attorney this Nagle remarked:--

'He has the heart of a vulture. '

'I know what's worse, ' was Ronayne's comment. 

'Indeed!'

'Yes; the bill of an aigle' (which is the broad Cork pronunciation ofeagle). 

This Nagle was not remarkable for the extent of his ablutions. 

At one period, when he was becoming an ardent Radical, an obsequioustoady said:--

'You'll become a second Marat. '

'There's no fear that he will die in the same place, ' promptly came fromRonayne. 

On another occasion the two were waiting for the judges outside theirlodgings during the Assizes. 

Suddenly Ronayne, in the hearing of a number of acquaintances, calledout:--

'You had better come away at once, Nagle. '

'Why should I?' indignantly. 

'If you stop five minutes longer there's a shower of rain coming on andyou might get washed. '

On a third occasion, Nagle told Ronayne he was going to invest somemoney in a mining exploration. 

'Explore your own landed property, my dear fellow, ' was Ronayne'sadvice. 

'But you know I have not got any. '

'Good Heavens, you don't mean to say you have cleaned your nails?'

Though he was an out-and-out Fenian, Ronayne was as honest a man as Iever met, and he was considered one of the most amusing men in the Houseof Commons. 

The attorneys in Cork at one time formed quite a small coterie, whodivided all the business until it grew too much for them, one, Mr. PaulWallace, being especially harassed with briefs. 

At length a barrister named Graves came down from Dublin, and wasintroduced to Wallace by another attorney with the remark:--

'Counsel are very necessary. '

'Yes, ' said Wallace; 'as a matter of fact, we are all being driven toour graves. '

At Kanturk Sessions, Mr. Philip O'Connell was consulted by a clientabout the recovery of a debt. He at once saw that the defence would be apleading of the statute of limitations, so he told his client that if hecould get a man to swear that the debtor had admitted the debt withinthe last six years, he would succeed, but not otherwise. 

O'Connell went off to take the chair at a Bar dinner to a new CountyCourt judge. 

As the dessert was being set on the table, a loud knock came at thedoor, which was immediately behind the chairman. 

'What is it?' cried O'Connell. 

A head appeared, and the voice from it explained:--

'I'm Tim Flaherty, your honour, as was consulting you outside, and Iwant you to come this way for a while. '

'Don't you see I am engaged and cannot come?'

'But it's pressing and important. '

'I tell you I won't come. '

Then at the top of his voice Tim yelled:--

'Will a small woman do as well, your honour?'

The members of the Bar present, quite unaware of the previousconversation, exploded in a shout of laughter, and it was long beforeO'Connell heard the last of the invidious construction they put on theaffair. 

One of the interesting people I came across in the vicinity of Cork wasMr. Jeffreys, who up to his death in 1862 was the most enterprising andexperimental landed proprietor in the county. He imported Scottishstewards, and people from far and near came to see his farms. 

I should say that in the fifties he did more for agriculture than anyother one man who could be named in Ireland. 

He often said to me:--

'The system of small farms will not last long in Ireland, for theoccupiers are sure to strike against rents. '

He did not live to see the fulfilment of his prophecy, but its effectswere felt by his grandson, Sir George Colthurst, who inherited hisproperty. 

Most of his stories were very improper, but their wit excused them. 

In the Kildare Street Club one day he saw a very pompous individual, andasked who he was. 

'That's So-and-So, and the odd thing is he is the youngest of fourbrothers, who are all married without having a child between them. '

'Ah, that accounts for his importance--he is the last of the Barons. '

Finding him very meditative in the County Club at Cork one Friday, Iasked him what was the matter. 

'I am making my soul, ' said he. 'I began my dinner with turbot and endedwith scollops. '

CHAPTER VI

FAMINE AND FEVER

It is now necessary to revert to that terrible page of Irish history, the famine, which culminated in what is still known as 'the blackforty-seven. '

I have often been asked, 'How is it that Ireland could formerly supporta population of eight millions as compared with only five now?'

The answer is simple: Eight millions could still exist if the potatocrop were a certainty, and if the people were now content to exist asthey did then. But to the then existing population--living at best in alight-hearted and hopeful, hand-to-mouth contentment--there was aterrible awakening. 

The mysterious blight, which had affected the potato in America in 1844, had not been felt in Ireland, where the harvest for 1845 promised to besingularly abundant. Suddenly, almost without warning, the later cropshrivelled and wasted. 

The poor had a terribly hard winter, and the farmers borrowed heavily tohave means to till a larger amount of land in 1846. 

Once more the early prospects were admirable, and then in a single nightwhole districts were blighted. 

This is how Mr. Steuart Trench described the catastrophe:--

'On August 1, 1846, I was startled by a sudden and strange rumour thatall the potato fields in the district were blighted, and that a stenchhad arisen emanating from their decaying stalk. The report was true, thestalks being withered; and a new, strange stench was to be noticed whichbecame a well-known feature in 'the blight' for years after. On beingdug up it was found that the potato was rapidly blackening and meltingaway. The stench generally was the first indication, the withered leaffollowing in a day or two. '

The terrible sufferings which ensued were complicated by some blundersof British statesmen. 

In 1845 Sir Robert Peel was Prime Minister. He imported Indian meal, andestablished depots in the country, where it was sold to the people atthe lowest possible price, thus putting a complete check on privateenterprise. 

In 1846 Lord John Russell was Premier. He declined to follow the exampleof Sir Robert Peel, because he considered that it interfered with FreeTrade, and, reversing the policy of his predecessor, announced that heleft the importation of meal to private enterprise. 

But capitalists having been alarmed, meal was not imported in sufficientquantities, with the result that Indian corn rose to eighteen pounds aton, when it might have been laid in at the rate of eight pounds a ton. 

Had Lord John Russell's policy come first, and that of Sir Robert Peelsubsequently, the result would have been very different. 

The fight over the Corn Law question in England at the time wasdecidedly an injury to Ireland, because the Protectionists minimised thedanger of famine in the winter of 1845 for fear of the calamity beingmade a pretext for Free Trade. 

Dealing with an unforeseen calamity of such stupendous magnitude at longrange from Downing Street entailed delay; and public relief, waitinguntil official investigation had tardily reported the hardships, suffered in the truly distressful country. 

The state of things round Bantry, of which I had accurate knowledge, wasappalling. I knew of twenty-three deaths in the poorhouse in twenty-fourhours. Again, on a relief road, two hours after I had passed, on my ridehome I saw three of the poor fellows stretched corpses on the stonesthey had been breaking. 

The Registrar-General for Ireland, Mr. William Donelly, officially statedthat five hundred thousand one-roomed cabins had disappeared between thecensus before the famine and the one after it. 

Whole families used to starve in their cabins without their plight beingdiscovered until the stench of their decaying corpses attracted notice. 

Some superstition also prevented even the children from eating themyriads of blackberries which ripened on the bushes. 

Directly the calamity was comprehended, the English poured money intothe country with unbounded generosity, but the management was bad. 

The relief works organised by the Government took the form of drainingand road-making. This entailed delay, owing to the preliminarysurveying, and when employment could be given, the people were tooemaciated and feeble to work. All over Ireland unfinished roads leadinghalf way to places of no consequence are to-day grass-grown memorials ofthat ghastly effort of State assistance. 

Almost the earliest of the private soup-kitchens for the relief of thesufferers was that opened at Dingle under the joint initiative of LadyVentry, Mrs. Hickson, my future mother-in-law, and Mrs. Hussey, mymother. So as not to pauperise the people, subscriptions of one penny aweek were asked from every house in the town. At ten in the morningthose who wanted it could get a pint per head of really excellent soupfor themselves and their families. Those who were known to be able topay had to contribute a penny; the really destitute had gratuitousrelief. 

So bad was the famine that people coming in from the country fell in thestreet never to rise again. One woman was found lying on the outskirtsof the town almost dead from starvation, her three children havingsuccumbed beside her, and had she not been carried to the soup-kitchenshe would not have survived them many hours. 

My wife well remembers another case. One day her mother emerged from acabin carrying what looked like a big bundle of clothes. It was the formof an emaciated woman, whose four children and husband had all starved. My mother-in-law took her to her own house, fed her at first withspoonsful of soup, and kept her there until she had rebuilt her oncevigorous constitution. 

My wife subsequently recollects her as a hale, buxom, young widow comingto say good-bye before emigrating to America. 

Very soon all the coffins had been exhausted, and in many places thedead were taken to the graves and dropped in through the hinged bottomof a trap-coffin. 

After soup had been introduced, Indian meal stirabout provedefficacious, and it was distributed from large iron boilers set up bythe roadside to the gaunt, cadaverous wretches who scuffled for thesustenance. 

Even more terrible than those privations was the fever which supervened. Apart from the lack of food, a great cause of mortality lay in thechange of diet. Potatoes form a bulky article of food, and stirabout, unless very carefully made, used to swell after it was consumed. Many, too, ate raw turnips from sheer destitution, and these also causedswelling of the stomach as well as a dysentery almost always fatal in afew days. 

Numbers of starving Catholics had gone to Protestant clergymen andoffered to become converts in return for food, and when some of thesesickened with the fever, the priests declared it was a judgment on them, and religious hostility became intensified. 

At Dingle Lady Ventry and her helpers were denounced from the pulpits as'benevolent sisters bent on superising the poor'--to superise being theimprovised verb for Protestantising, a thing they decidedly did notattempt. 

A very early instance of the open-air cure never before recorded tookplace at Lismore. When every possible place in the hospital had beenfilled with fever patients, a number had to be lodged in a disusedquarry near the Blackwater, and of the latter not a single suffererdied, though the mortality within doors was excessive. 

I remember one rather quaint incident. 

A large amount of sea biscuit was brought into a house for distributionby a benevolent gentleman. His daughter, aged seven, surreptitiouslystole a biscuit for the purpose of eating it. But at the first attemptto bite the tough thing, out came a loose tooth. She howled with fright, thinking it a judgment on her for her misdeed, and went in tears to tellher mother. 

I have always hoped the latter had enough sense of humour to laugh atthe incident, but my shrewd suspicion is that she improved theoccasion--an error for which there is always temptation, and on whichthere is often the retribution of the few words having the oppositeeffect to that intended. 

The conduct of the landlords during the famine and fever has been muchdiscussed and variously represented. But many of the Nationaliststhemselves have declared that the diatribes of their comrades have beenthoroughly undeserved. Absenteeism apart--for which no excuse need beattempted--the Irish landlords did their best, gave of their substance, and imperilled their own lives for the sake of the sufferers. Mr. Richard White of Inchiclogh, near Bantry, fell a victim to the fever. Two other landlords who gave their lives for others were Mr. RichardMartin, M. P. , and Mr. Nolan of Ballinderry. The conditions of tenure didnot admit of lavish financial generosity, but as one of their sharpestcritics in later times admitted, the vast majority 'went down with theship. '

The survivors of this terrible time numbered heroes drawn from allclasses of life; and it would have been well if the lesson of universalcharity then practically demonstrated had been allowed to sink into allhearts. 

Instead I will quote the following extract from John Mitchel's _Historyof Ireland_, a thick, paper-bound volume, which, at the price ofeighteenpence, has circulated enormously among the Irish, not only athome, but in Glasgow and America. 

On page 243:--'That million and a half of men, women, and children werecarefully, prudently, and peacefully _slain_' [the italics are those ofMitchel] 'by the English Government. They died of hunger in the midst ofabundance which their own hands created; and it is quite immaterial todistinguish those who perished in the agonies of famine itself fromthose who died by typhus fever, which in Ireland is always caused byfamine. 

'Further, this was strictly an _artificial_ famine--that is to say, itwas a famine which desolated a rich and fertile island that producedevery year abundance and superabundance to sustain all her people andmany more. The English, indeed, call that famine a dispensation ofProvidence, and ascribe it entirely to the blight of the potatoes. Butpotatoes failed in like manner all over Europe, yet there was no faminesave in Ireland. The British account of the matter, then, is first afraud; second, a blasphemy. The Almighty, indeed, sent the potatoblight, but the English created the famine. '

Such pestilential perversion of truth is freely circulated and firmlybelieved, for contradiction never penetrates to those gulled by theselies. In America the gutter press section of journalism is esteemed atits true worth, and is as harmless as a few squibs. In Ireland what isseen in bad print is always believed, and is corroborated by the lowerclass of priest. When I say so much I am simply indicating a nationalsore, but it needs a wiser physician than myself to apply a successfulremedy. 

Perhaps with the spread of education may arise the same power todiscriminate between the true and false published in the papers that isa characteristic of both the English and Scottish. As it is, theIrishman believes whatever he reads in print; and in most cases thesolitary paper that he reads is one full of treason and untruths. 

When the famine took place, the Irish fled as from a plague to America, and when they landed there both men and women were the prey of everyblackguard without a single person to advise or protect them. 

Had the Government taken the movement in hand and employed agents at NewYork to provide for them until they obtained employment, and to directthem where to apply for it, England would to-day probably have had agrateful nation on the other side of the Atlantic. Instead, we have ahostile multitude which neglects no opportunity of voting for anypolitician hostile to Great Britain; and this disaffection sadlymilitates against that union of Anglo-Saxon hearts, which is so freelyaccepted by journalists and politicians as a sort of millennium. 

Miss Cobbe related a story about a steady-going girl who had receivedmoney from her sister who was doing well in New York to pay her passagemoney out. 

She told Miss Cobbe how she had been to an emigration office and bookedher passage. 

'Direct to New York, of course. '

'Well no, Miss. But to some place close by, New something else. '

'New something else near New York?'

'Yes; I disremember what it was, but he said it was quite handy for NewYork. '

'Not New Orleans, surely?'

'Yes, Miss, that was it, New Orleans, quite near New York, ' he said. 

The scoundrelly agent had taken her passage money and sent her offabsolutely friendless to New Orleans, where she died of a fever in lessthan a year. 

Many of the three million emigrants after the famine must have been aseasily duped. 

A considerable time ago (but if I were in Kerry I could give the datefrom my diary, because I met the man at a dinner given at the St. James's Club by Lord Kenmare's son-in-law, Mr. Douglas) one of the bigNew World railway companies sent over an emissary to the BritishGovernment. 

He was charged to offer to take every distressed man in Ireland, withhis priest--if he would go--piper, cat, wife, sister, mother, andchildren, to the land through which the great railway ran. Each man wasto be given a log-house with three rooms, one hundred and sixty acres, ten of them under cultivation, and no residence was to be more than tenmiles from a railway station. All that was asked in return was a loanfor ten years without interest to cover the expenses of transportation. 

I rather think Mr. Chichester Fortescue was the Chief Secretary. Anyhow, whoever occupied that post urged the Cabinet to accept the offer. Theconclave wavered, but Mr. Gladstone firmly vetoed the idea. He wasafraid the plan would be unpopular with the priests, who would seethemselves bereft of the favourite members of their congregations. 

Instead of this admirable scheme, we have ever since had the pitiablesight of the parents, the sisters, and the sweetheart crooning over theemigration of the best able-bodied young men from Ireland. 

No one who has heard the keening and wailing, say at Limerick Junction, over Paddy going over the water will forget the appealing sorrow of thescene, the sound of which rings long in one's ears after the train hasgone out of sight. 

The emigrant has been the theme of song and story. He has also been oneof the finest recruits of the United States, whilst he is a stigma onEnglish politics, and a drain on the land which in all Europe can leastafford to spare him. 

Mr. Wyndham's new Act will not arrest emigration, indeed it willprobably increase it. 

At present the landlord is often able to put pressure on his tenants togive employment to respectable men. But the small farmer is certain touse as few men as possible. You can see the analogy in contemporaryFrance. Therefore more families will see the pride of their cabinsstarting for the New World. 

Perhaps what I am proudest of, was being called in an address in Kerry'the poor man's friend, ' for it is what I have always striven to be. 

But if I were to be a young man to-morrow, instead of a day older than Iam to-day, I should be powerless to merit such a title in years to come. 

And the reason, as I have just indicated, is the fault of theGovernment. 

I sometimes think the canniest man of whom I ever heard was the oldScottish minister who was accustomed to preface his extempore petitionwith the words:--

'My britheren, let us noo pray that the High Court of Parliament winnado ony harm. '

CHAPTER VII

FENIANISM

I am quite aware the opinion I am about to deliver will cause greatsurprise, but I give it after mature consideration, supported by all myknowledge of Ireland. 

It is this:--

The old Fenianism was politically of little account, socially of nodanger, except to a few individuals who could be easily protected, andhas been grossly exaggerated, either wilfully or through ignorance. 

Matters were very different after Mr. Gladstone, by successive acts, ofwhat I maintain were criminal legislation, deliberately fostered treasonand encouraged outrage in Ireland. 

Irish agitation would never have reached genuine importance unless ithad been steadily assisted in its noisome growth by the so-called GrandOld Man, at whose grave may be laid every calamity which has affectedIreland since it had the misfortune to arouse his interest, and the illeffects of whose demoralising interference will bear fruit for manyyears to come. 

This is set down in sober earnest and in as unprejudiced a spirit as itis possible for any sincerely patriotic--using the word in its true andnot in its debased meaning--Irishman to feel when he is thoroughlyacquainted with all the niceties of the national history for the pastsixty years. 

I am far from saying that subsequent British cabinets have alwaysunderstood the Irish questions, but they are at least only reaping thewhirlwind where Mr. Gladstone sowed the wind. 

I would broadly characterise as Fenian every Irish outbreak orebullition in the nineteenth century up to the time of the banefulinfluence of the man who conducted the Midlothian campaign. 

Half the tumultuous efforts of the earlier movements would have beenrendered ridiculous had it been possible to have them contemporaneouslyexamined by a few special correspondents. I can imagine therepresentative of the _Daily Mail_ finding material for very fewsensational headlines in the Whiteboys Insurrection. 

As for the tales of single-handed terrorism, these in Ireland didnursery duty to alarm imaginative children, just as the adventures ofDick Turpin and Jack Sheppard or the kidnapping of heirs by gipsiesserve as stories to thrill English little ones. 

Of course in 1789 to have killed three Protestants was counted apassport into heaven in the vicinity of Vinegar Hill. But FatherMatthew's temperance crusade was worth more salvation to the nation, andmere threatening letters count for nothing. I have had over one hundredin my time, yet I'll die in my bed for all that. 

My father-in-law had a pretty solid contempt for the Whiteboys--not theoriginal breed, but those who assumed the title in Kerry early in thenineteenth century. 

He was told that these miscreants had a plan to surround his house thatnight and to shoot everybody in it, and at that very moment they wereconfabulating at a certain farmhouse. 

Refusing to be escorted or guarded, he made his way to that farm, andwalking into the kitchen, rated the lot of them in unmeasured terms. 

Cowed and abashed they listened to him as he threatened the law, hell, and the devil alone knows what beside. Finally, pistol in hand, he badethem produce their arms and put them in his dog-cart. 

This they actually did--for they had imbibed no liquor to give themfalse pluck--and, with a final curse, he whipped up his horse and droveaway 'with all their teeth' to the barracks, where he left a very usefularsenal, and was never troubled by one of them again. 

To thus obtain complete immunity by sheer coolness is as much a matterof personal magnetism as anything else. An instance of this, whichimpressed me much, occurred in a coiner-ghost story told by Mr. T. P. O'Connor, which I venture to quote. 

'The hero was no less a person than Marshal Saxe. One night, on themarch, he bivouacked in a haunted castle, and slept the sleep of thebrave until midnight, when he was awakened by hideous howls heraldingthe approach of the spectre. When it appeared, the Marshal firstdischarged his pistol point-blank at it without effect, and then struckit with his sabre, which was shivered in his hand. The invulnerablespectre then beckoned the amazed Marshal to follow, and preceded him toa spot where the floor of the gallery suddenly yawned, and they sanktogether through it to sepulchral depths. Here he was surrounded by aband of desperate coiners who would forthwith have made away with him ifthe Marshal had not told them who he was, and warned them that if hedisappeared his army would dig to the earth's centre to find him, andwould infallibly find and finish every one of them. 

'"If I am reconducted to my chamber by this steel-clad spectre andallowed to sleep undisturbed until morning, I promise never to relatethis adventure while any harm can happen to you by my telling it. "

'To this the coiners after consultation agreed. He was led back to bed, and next morning ridiculed all spectral stories to his officers. It wasnot until the world of coiners was finally broken up that he related hisexperiences. '

In that story I wonder who went bail for the Marshal's truth. Veracityand gallantry may not have gone hand in hand, or perhaps they wereaffianced, and therefore took care not to come near one another. 

Another sort of gallantry was noteworthy in what was known as YoungIreland, for in 'the set' were several ladies, Eva, Mary, and Speranza, all prone to write seditious verse. Eva was Miss Mary Kelly, daughter ofa Galway gentleman, who promised her lover to wait while he underwentten years penal servitude, and kept her word, marrying him at Kingstowntwo days after his release. 'Mary' was Miss Ellen Downing, whose loverwas also a fugitive after the outbreak; but he proved unfaithful, andshe was one of the last I heard of who died of pining away. It used tobe much talked of in my young days. Perhaps now that it is not, it moreoften occurs. 'Speranza' was Lady Wilde, a fluent poet and essayist, whosurvived her husband the archćologist. One of her children inheritedmuch of her talent, but bears a chequered fame. I always thought the witof Oscar Wilde anything but Irish, and was always glad it possessed nonational attributes--unless impudence was one. 

At one of his own first nights in London (I think it was on the occasionof the production of _An Ideal Husband_ at the Haymarket) he wassummoned before the curtain by the customary shouts for 'Author, author. '

He stood there for a moment amid the cheering, and then, in response tocries for a speech, calmly took a cigarette case out of his pocket, selected one of the contents, and, having very deliberately lighted it, said:--

'Ladies and gentlemen, I do not know what you have done, but I havespent a very pleasant evening with my own play. Good night. '

His brother, known as 'Wuffalo Will' among his friends, is the hero ofmany stories. 

Once he went up to a policeman and said:--

'Which is the way to heaven?'

'I don't know, sir; better ask a parson. '

'What do you think I pay taxes for? It's your business to be able totell me the way to heaven. As for the bally parsons, they don'tunderstand. '

A broad smile came over the constable's face. 

'Were you asking where you could get blind drunk comfortably, sir?because if so--'

And out came the hint with a wink. 

Wilde was fond of that tale at one time. 

The affair of ''48' was a farce. Stimulated by the French Revolution, John Mitchel wrote rabid sedition, but received short shrift at thehands of the Government, who arrested him, sentenced him to fourteenyears' transportation, and almost from the dock he was taken manacled ina police van, escorted by cavalry, and put on board a steamer, which atonce put out to sea. 

Smith O'Brien was the leader of this feeble insurrection. He had boastedhe would be at the head of fifty thousand Tipperary men. Instead hisarmy consisted of a few hundred half-clad ragamuffins, which attacked asquad of police who took refuge in a farmhouse, and easily routed therabble. 

Smith O'Brien proved himself an arrant coward. He hid in a cabbagegarden, and is still believed to have made his temporary escape from thepolice in the habit of an Anglican sisterhood, of which his sister, Hon. Mrs. Monsell, was Mother Superior. 

The bigger outbreak was not a bit more serious. It was all trumped up bythe Irish in America, and their reliance upon help from Americansoldiers was destroyed after the war. This agitation was the one knownas the work of the Phoenix Society, and the object was the separation ofIreland from England and the confiscation of Irish property. 

The leaders were James Stephens, who had nearly escaped being shot by apoliceman in the Smith O'Brien campaign, and that indomitable scoundrelO'Donovan Rossa. It was at this time we began to hear of mysteriousstrangers. In this case it was Stephens; later Parnell wrapped himselfin strange isolation; and subsequently Tynan, who was known as 'NumberOne. '

Cork and Kerry were the chosen parts of Ireland for the new Fenianism tocome to a head, and a certain amount of enrolling and drilling did takeplace. 

I was then residing within two miles of the city of Cork, and one nightthe Fenians came out and encamped all round my house, without offeringthe slightest molestation or injury to anybody. 

Two Fenians walked into the house of my stableman, about a quarter of amile from my own, and asked for food, saying they were ready to pay forit. 

The woman replied that she had no food in the house, but the breakfastof her brother Charles, which she was about to take to him in thestables. 

They wanted to pay her a shilling for it, but she declined, and thenthey went away quietly. 

The principal outbreak was to be in Killarney, and they plotted toattack the police barrack at Cahirciveen, because they had an ally inthe son of the head constable. 

But a man in the town, to whom he had shown kindness, warned the headconstable of the attack, which in the end consisted of a few shots firedby a ragged rabble of about three hundred, half of whom werehalf-hearted, and the other half half-drunk. 

The coastguards manned their boat and rowed off to a gunboat in theharbour to ask for some marines; and the moment this was known to thebesiegers they dispersed. Some of them marched rather downcast towardsKillarney, and on the road they met a mounted policeman riding to warnCahirciveen of the attack which was to be made against the barracks, forevery movement of this silly rebellion was known to the Government. 

They called on the man to stop and deliver up his despatches. Hedeclined to do so, and so soon as he had ridden on they shot him in theback, wounding him badly. 

He recovered, but was very shabbily treated by the Government, who onlyawarded him a miserably small pension, a niggardly act which arousedmuch dissatisfaction. 

The Roman Catholic Bishop of Killarney, Doctor Moriarty, protestedstrongly against the cowardice of the Fenians, who were afraid to faceone armed man, and waited until his back was turned before they shothim. 

However, as I have indicated, the Fenian movement was veryinsignificant, and was known in all its aspects to the Government, whichdealt pretty roughly with it. 

It is a singular fact that in the Fenian councils Killarney should havebeen selected for the outbreak. 

This is a town where nearly all the landed proprietors were RomanCatholics, where there was a Catholic Bishop, a monastery and twoconvents, while one half-ruined Protestant church sufficed toaccommodate the few worshippers who sat under a dreary, inoffensivevicar on a very small salary. All reasonable folk, moreover, know thatKillarney is the town to which, more than any other in Ireland, it isimportant to attract British tourists. 

It was well known that some of the promoters and instigators of themovement betrayed it before its very inception to the Government; andBishop Moriarty, from his pulpit, in his sermon alluded in no measuredlanguage to those criminals who instigated the innocent peasants to playa part in this mock insurrection, and then betrayed them. 

He concluded:--

'It may be a hard saying, but surely hell is not too hot nor eternitytoo long for the punishment of such villainy. '

Yet the whole of Irish history is disfigured by the poisonous trail ofthe insidious informer. 

I was in Kerry at the time of the Cahirciveen fizzle, in theneighbourhood of Dingle, and it was rumoured that the insurrection wasto be general. 

That was not my opinion, for I travelled on an open car by myself, witha large quantity of money, and no other weapon than an umbrella. 

It was a very different state of affairs in the distress caused by Mr. Gladstone's legislation, for then I never travelled without a revolver, and occasionally was accompanied by a Winchester rifle. I used to placemy revolver as regularly beside my fork on the dinner-table, either inmy own or in anybody else's house, as I spread my napkin on my knees. 

And yet it is strangely difficult to see any other cause than Mr. Gladstone's Acts for such ill-feeling. 

As my sworn evidence, on which I was cross-examined in the ParnellCommission, showed, I had only ten evictions in six years among twothousand tenants. 

I should like to ask, in what class of life is there not more than onein twelve hundred that gets into financial troubles in a year?

In the insurance world such a ratio of claims to premiums would make aperfect fortune to the companies. 

The tenants were not associated with the Fenian movement at all, theoutbreak being solely confined to the townsfolk, which, in Ireland, helped to make it a feeble affair. I did not know one _bona fide_ farmerthat was connected with the movement, and though the arms were mainlysmuggled in from America, mighty little hard cash came to the pockets ofany but the leaders. 

Stephens was the original 'Number One, ' and he was let out of Kilmainhamby the chief warder's wife. No one knew where he was to be found, butthe police, who were well aware that he was devoted to his own wife, kept a strict watch on her, and eventually caught him through hisopening communications with her. 

When the hue and cry was loudest, it was reported he had come to Cork tofoster the Fenian movement, and that he was disguised in feminine garb. 

One day my wife found her steps dogged by a man in the most aggravatingway, for he followed her into three shops without attempting to speak toher, his only desire being to shadow her, which he was doing in the mostclumsy manner. 

I was away at Dingle for the day, so my wife went into the establishmentof the leading linen-draper, and sending for the head of the firm, askedhim to speak to the man, who was then pretending to buy some tape. 

It turned out that he was a detective fresh from Dublin, who had takenit into his head that she was Stephens, and was most apologetic, as wellas crestfallen, at his error. 

Some time after this Fenian fizzle, my coachman saw a number of peoplebeing chased by the police for drilling; and about two years later, whenI sent him to the Cork barracks on private business, he told me that hethere noticed some of the very people who had been routed by theconstabulary, but this time they were being drilled by the Government asmilitia. 

I have always had a theory that Ireland was created by Providence forthe express purpose of bothering philosophers, and preventing them orpoliticians from thinking themselves too wise. 

At the time when the Fenian scare was damaging Killarney as a touristresort, Sir Michael Morris--as he then was--was staying at Morley'sHotel in London, and saw in the American paper lying on the table avivid account of how the Fenian army had attacked a British garrison, and would have easily captured the stronghold had not an overpoweringforce of English cavalry and artillery hurried up to deliver thebesieged. 

Of course, the facts were, that in County Limerick several hundred'patriots, ' led by a man in a green calico uniform, attacked a policebarrack in which were five constables. Keeping as much out of range ofthe constabulary fire as possible, they had exchanged a few shots when aDistrict Inspector of Police, who resided some eight miles off, arrivedwith ten constables on a couple of cars, at the sight of whichstupendous relieving force, the whole corps of young Irishmen bolted. 

Morris gave the waiter a shilling for the paper--and took it off his tipat leaving, no doubt--and carefully treasured the journal until he wentto hold the next assizes at Limerick, when he found the bulk of theattacking army in the dock before him. 

When the D. I. Was giving evidence, Morris asked him:--

'Where were the British cavalry?'

'What cavalry, my lord? Why, there was none. 

'Oh ho, ' says the judge. 'And where was the artillery?'

'Faith, my lord, there was as much artillery as there was cavalry, andthat would not get in the way of a donkey race. '

Then Morris, with appropriate solemnity, proceeded to read out thenewspaper account for the benefit of the audience. The whole Court wasconvulsed with laughter, in which the prisoners in the dock heartilyjoined. 

After the trial was over, a parish priest came to congratulate Morris, and said to him:--

'My lord, you have laughed Fenianism out of Limerick. '

[Illustration: Mrs. Hussey]

CHAPTER VIII

MYSELF, SOME FACTS, AND MANY STORIES

In 1850 I became agent to the Colthurst property, which consisted ofmost of the parish of Ballyvourney, one estate alone containing abouttwenty-three thousand acres. The rental was then over Ł4600. There wereonly three slated houses on the property, hardly any out-buildings, onlyseven miles of road under contract, and about twenty acres planted. 

By 1880 the landlord had expended Ł30, 000 on improvements, there wereover one hundred slated houses, about sixty miles of roads, and overfour hundred acres planted. 

Under the Land Act of 1881 the rent was reduced to Ł3600. 

That was the encouragement officially given to the landlord forassisting in the improvement of his property. 

From the time of Moses downwards, the policy of all Governments has beento give relief to the debtor. By the Encumbered Estate Act, which waspassed just after the famine, special relief was given to the creditor. 

What the English view was may be taken from the _Times_--

'In a few years more, a Celtic Irishman will be as rare in Connemara asis the Red Indian on the shores of Manhattan. '

That is to say, English capital was at last to flow into Ireland for thepurchase of encumbered estates, but the anticipation of course waserroneous. 

English capital was placed for preference in Turkish and in Egyptianbonds, to the great loss of all concerned. As for Ireland, out of thefirst twenty millions realised by the new Court, over seventeen wasIrish money; and at the outset there was an inevitable downward tendencyof prices which involved heavy depreciation. 

Credit was destroyed in Ireland, and every man who owed a shilling wasutterly ruined. Had the Government given loans at a reasonable rate ofinterest, which would have amply repaid them, all this could have beensaved. As it was, properties were sold like chairs and tables at apaltry auction, and in thousands of cases the judge expressed himselfsatisfied that the rent could have been considerably increased. 

I knew one unfortunate shopkeeper who paid Ł6000 for a property underthese circumstances; and in place of an increase of rent, theconfiscators--that is to say the commissioners imposed by Mr. Gladstone--took a third of the rental off him. 

Those purchasers who were English conceived when they bought propertiesthat they would get as much from them as the solvent tenants werewilling to pay. The legislation of Mr. Gladstone in coalition with theblunderbuss soon put an end to the pleasing delusion. It was one more ofthe English mistakes about Ireland, where, when the tenant is content topay, the British Government and the Land League both combine to preventhim from offering a reasonable rent to a landlord. 

As a matter of fact, even the most seditionary organs confessed that thetenants gained little and lost much by the change from the old type oflandlord to the new, for the latter, being practical men, had nosympathy for the man who was permanently behindhand with his rent. Andno one can say that this habitual arrear was a healthy stimulus to themoral wellbeing of the tenant himself, though he felt aggrieved at itsbeing checked. 

There is not the least need to sketch how I gradually became one of thelargest land agents in Ireland. It has been published in other books, and would only prove wearisome if set out in detail in this volume. So Iwill merely observe that only two years after the big Fenian rising, asit was called--which I should describe as being composed of a rabble ofless importance than the ragamuffins led by Wat Tyler--so little was Iimpressed by its magnitude that I went to live at Edenburn. There I laidout a lot of money in rebuilding the house, spending over Ł2000 inadditions. This was most idiotic of me, because I had not counted on theinfernal devices of Mr. Gladstone to render Ireland uninhabitable forpeaceful and law-abiding folk. 

When I first settled down there, labourers were working at eightpence ortenpence a day. Now the lowest rate is two shillings. The labourerrectified this rate by emigration, and if the farmers, who could moreadvantageously have emigrated, had done so, the cry for compulsoryreduction would never have arisen. 

Thus far I have dealt with facts and myself as concerned in them, but Ipropose now to relate a few stories, a thing more congenial to mytemperament than any other form of conversational exercise. Whether itwill equally commend itself to the reader is a matter on which I, as anaged novice in literature, though hopeful, am of course uncertain. 

Indeed I am in exactly the predicament of a farmer's wife who was askedby the Dowager Lady Godfrey, after a month of marriage, how she likedher husband. 

'I had plenty of recommendation with him, ' was the reply, 'but I havenot had enough trial of him yet to say for sure. '

There is a story about a honeymoon couple at Killarney which is worthtelling. 

The bridegroom had a valet, a good, faithful fellow, long in hisservice, but talkative, a thing his master loathed. He said to him:--

'John, I've often told you to hold your tongue about my affairs. Thistime I emphatically mean it. If you tell the people in the hotel that Iam on my honeymoon, I'll sack you on the spot. '

So John promised to be as silent as the grave, but on the thirdafternoon, as the happy pair were ascending the stairs of the VictoriaHotel, they saw by the giggles and smirks of the chambermaids that theirsecret had been discovered. 

The bridegroom rang his bell and went for John in a towering passion, but the fellow held his ground. 

'Is it not unfair the way you are taking on? Sure the other servants didask me if you were on your honeymoon, but I was even with them, for Itold them "devil a bit, your honour was not going to marry the ladyuntil next month. "'

I do not know how that alliance turned out, but the happy pair left thehotel early next morning. 

I can tell rather more about the matrimonial experiences of anArchdeacon at Cork, who married firstly a woman who was very fond ofsociety. She died, and he then married another, who grew very stout. Shealso died, and the indefatigable cleric married as his third experimenta widow cursed with a very violent temper. 

He was one day chaffed on the practical demonstration he had given tothe Romish doctrine of the celibacy of the Church, when he said:--

'After all they were a trial, for I married the world, the flesh, andlastly the devil, and now I tremble whenever I think of recognition ineternity. '

This Cork story comes naturally, because at that time I was living nearCork and very happily too. 

Now and again we took trips up to Dublin when I had business there. 

I am not much of a playgoer, but in Dublin we always went to the theatreon the chance of hearing some of the proverbial wit of its gallery. 

On one occasion, a lady in the play, when her lover had had some doubtof her fidelity, exclaimed:--

'Would there were a mirror in my side that you could see into my heart. '

Whereupon a voice from the gods shouted:--

'Would not a pain [_i. E. _ pane] in your stomach do as well. I have onemyself. '

Lord Chancellor Brady was of a notoriously convivial temperament, whichdid not prevent him being an admirable lawyer when he would allow hiswits to get their heads above water, so to speak, though it was littleenough that he used to dilute his spirits. 

When Jenny Lind sang in some Italian opera, he occupied a seat in thevice-regal box, and gazed at her through a portentously enormous_lorgnette_. 

This was too much for a wag in the gallery, who yelled:--

'Brady, me jewel, I'm glad to see you're fond of a big glass yet. '

At the time of the Crimean War, John Reynolds, a very energetic citizen, was perpetually raising the question about the dangerous practice ofdriving outside cars from the side instead of the box--in which he wasundoubtedly right. 

When he went to the theatre, a gallery boy shouted:--

'Three cheers for Alderman John Reynolds the hero of Kars. '

The Lord Mayor of the period who sat beside him was a tallow chandler, and the same spokesman shouted out:--

'Three cheers for his grease the Lord Mayor just back from the races atTallagh. '

That sort of thing seems to be particularly indigenous, the onlyparallel being when undergraduates or medical students get gatheredtogether. 

The eloquence of Irish members in the House of Commons has reallynothing to do with my reminiscences, but I remember one occasion when itwas uncommonly well excelled by a stolid Englishman. 

Fergus O'Connor--an Irishman, as his name betrays--was an ardentChartist, and before the Reform Bill was introduced he said in the Housethat he had been accused of being a personal enemy of King William's. This was quite untrue, for if there were only good laws he did not careif the devil were King of England. 

Sir Robert Peel replied:--

'When the honourable member is gratified by seeing the sovereign of hischoice on the throne of these realms, I hope he will enjoy, and I amsure he will deserve, the confidence of the Crown. '

Whilst I am anecdotal, perhaps I had better say something about booksinto which my stories have been pressed. I was always given to tellingtales, but of course my great time was when Lord Morris and I would sittrying to cap one another. If he were ever too idle to remember ananecdote of his own, he would reel off one of mine: as for his own fundof stories and humour ever approaching exhaustion, that was not to bethought of. He was far and away the wittiest man I ever met, and if I donot quote one of his tales on this page it is because no single samplecan show the superb richness of his vintage, and more than one of hisbrand will be found scattered in the present volume. 

I gave a good many anecdotes to my dear old friend Mr. W. R. LeFanu--cheeriest of fishermen, kindest of jolly good fellows--for hisgarrulous book. He observes in his preface that he makes his firstattempt at writing in his eight-and-seventieth year. I am nearlytwenty-four months his senior when thus far on the road of thesereminiscences. I also echo another phrase of his:--

'I trust I have said nothing to hurt the feelings of any of myfellow-countrymen. '

Just one quotation--and only a little one--which is not mine, but thewarning which Sheridan Le Fanu, author of that capital novel _UncleSilas_, gave in the _Dublin University Magazine_ against matrimony:--

'Marriage is like the smallpox. A man may have it mildly, but hegenerally carries the marks of it with him to his grave. '

And very true too in his division of an Irishman's life into threeparts:--

'The first is that in which he is plannin' and conthrivin' all sorts ofvillainy and rascality; that is the period of youth and innocence. Thesecond is that in which he is puttin' into practice the villainy andrascality he contrived before; that is the prime of life or the flowerof manhood. The third and last period is that in which he is makin' hissoul and preparin' for another world; that is the period of dotage. '

Shakespeare's seven ages of man may have been more poetical, but it doesnot betray a closer grip of the Irish temperament. 

My other appearance as a literary ghost or rather as an anonymouscontributor was when I supplied Mrs. O'Connell with stories for _TheLast Count of the Irish Brigade_. That was about twenty years ago, andtherefore long after the death of the hero who was uncle to theLiberator. 

The writer was a daughter of Charles Bianconi, the originator of all themail-cars in Ireland, who owned at one time sixteen hundred horses, andalways laughed at the idea of any violence on the part of the peasantry, pointing out that though his cars daily covered four thousand miles intwenty-two counties, no injury was ever done to any of his property. 

Mrs. O'Connell was married to a nephew of the great Dan, and herepresented Kerry in Parliament for nearly thirty years. He was anintimate friend of Thackeray's, and gave him all the idioms of hisdelightful Irish ballads. This O'Connell was a clever, amusing fellow, and precious idle into the bargain. 

I remember one story he told me. 

Mrs. MacCarthy, near Millstreet, had a son, a small proprietor, and hegot married. The mother-in-law lived with the daughter-in-law, who hadrather grand ideas, and set up as parlour-maid in the house a raw lassjust taken from the dairy. 

One afternoon old Mrs. MacCarthy saw the parish priest coming to call, and told the girl if he asked for Mrs. MacCarthy to say she was not inbut the dowager was. 

Now the maid had never heard the word dowager in her life, but thoughtshe would make a shot for it, so when his reverence asked if Mrs. MacCarthy was at home, she blurted out:--

'No, sir, but the badger is. '

And to her dying day the relic of deceased MacCarthy went by the name of'the badger. '

Now it is really time I related how my own beauty was spoilt, bybreaking my nose in 1858. 

I was racing the present Knight of Kerry and a young gunner namedHickson--no relation--on the Strand, when the horse of the lattercollided with my own, and they both fell at the same time. He was aloose rider, and being shot off some distance from his animal pickedhimself up unhurt. I had always a tight grip, so I got entangled in thesaddle which twisted round, and my mare almost literally tore off myface with her hind hoof. 

I walked back a quarter of a mile, trying to hold my face on to my headwith my hand; and in a month's time I was able to get about again, whichthe doctor said was one of the quickest cases of healing he had everknown. 

But I was absolutely unrecognised by my acquaintances when I reappeared, and Mr. Dillon the R. M. Actually took me for a walk in Tralee to see thetown, thinking I was a stranger, a situation the fun of which I heartilyappreciated. 

Before that infernal gallop I had a hooked nose like the Duke ofWellington; and it's lucky I got married when I did, for no one wouldhave had me afterwards, though my own wife always says 'for shame' if Imake the remark in her presence, God bless her. 

When I went to the Abbey of St. Denis, near Paris, I told the verger Iwas very anxious to see the likeness of the saint who had walked for sixmiles with his head in his hand, because I was the nearest livingcounterpart, having walked a quarter of a mile with my face in mine. 

Hickson was universally congratulated on his lucky escape. He went outto India and was dead in eighteen months, and here am I at eighty withhalf my face and some of my health still in spite of the attentive careof my family and the doctor. 

My present doctor is a capital fellow, and when he comes to see me helaughs so much at my stories that I always think he ought to take mehalf price. Instead of that he regards me as an animated laboratory forhis interesting chemical experiments; but I had the best of him lasttime I was laid up, for I made him take a dose of the filthy compound hehad ordered for me the previous day. 

First he said he wouldn't, then he said he couldn't, but I said what wasnot poison for the patient could not hurt the physician; and in the endhe had to swallow the dose, making far more fuss over its nasty tastethan I did. But I noted that he at once wrote me a new prescription, which was as sweet as any advertised syrup, and further, that hearranged his next visit should be just after I finished the bottle. 

However, that is years and years after the time of which I am treating. 

Yet I am tempted to anticipate, because the mention of Edenburn earlierin this chapter suggests a quaint individual about whom a fewobservations may be made. 

Bill Hogan was our factotum. He was stable-boy, steward, ladies'-maid, and professional busybody, as well as a bit of a character, though hepossessed none worth mentioning. 

When we were packing up to leave Edenburn, my wife was watching him filltwo casks, one with home-made jam, the other with china. 

Called away to luncheon, she found on her return both casks securelynailed down. 

'Oh, you should not have done that, Bill, ' she said, 'for now we shan'tknow which contains which. '

'I thought of that, ma'am, ' replies Bill, 'so I have written S forchiney on the one, and G for jam on the other. '

Bill's orthography was obviously original. 

So was the drive he took with a certain cheery guest of mine one Sabbathmorning. 

The said guest desired more refreshment than he was likely to get atthat early hour at Edenburn, so he drove into Tralee, ostensibly tochurch, and told Bill to have the car round at the club at one. 

'Well, ' narrated Bill afterwards, 'out came the Captain from the club, having a few drinks taken, and up he got on the car with my help, but atthe corner of Denny Street he pulled up at the whisky store, and said wemust drink the luck of the road. Well we drank the luck at every houseon the way out of the town, and presently in the road down came themare, pitching the Captain over the hedge, and marking her own knees, aswell as breaking the shaft. At last we all got home somehow, and therein the yard was the master, looking us all three up and down as thoughhe were going to commit us all from the Bench. Then a twinkle came intohis eye, and he said as mild as a dove to the Captain, "I see by thelook of her knees you've been taking the mare to say her prayers. "'

CHAPTER IX

THE HARENC ESTATE

So large a part has the purchase of this estate made in my more publicappearances, owing to the fact that I have been brought into generalnotice through offensive legal proceedings, that a brief account of thematter must form part of my reminiscences. 

Prior to 1878, a gentleman named Harenc, the owner of a large extent oflanded property in the north of Kerry, died. 

Who the estate subsequently belonged to I am uncertain. Anyhow, according to the title-deeds, it was somehow divided among ten or twelveindividuals before the property came into the Land Estate Courts forsale. 

This circumstance suggested to a large number of the tenantry that itmight be an opportunity to avail themselves of the provisions of theBright Clauses, and become pretty cheaply the owners of the land onwhich they lived. 

After they had offered the sum of Ł75, 000 for the estate, for thepurpose of splitting it up into small holdings, it was found that thetrustee had privately agreed to sell it to Mr. Goodman Gentleman, theagent for the late Mr. Harenc, for Ł65, 000. 

The tenants were not going to be frustrated by that--being Irishmen andlitigious, which is one and the same thing. So they appealed to theLanded Estates Court, and induced Judge Ormsby to make an orderannulling the deed of sale, and directing that the property should beput up in lots suitable to the purposes of the tenants. 

Several of the tenants who did not want the property split up approachedme to suggest I should buy the property, and appeared by counsel--thepresent Judge Johnson--in support of me. 

I met the tenants, and stated that if it fell to me I would give each ofthem a lease of thirty-one years, and indemnify myself for thepurchase-money by a rise on the entire rental of five per cent, on thevaluation of each estate, according to current estimates, at which theyshowed every sign of satisfaction. 

I then offered Ł80, 000 for the whole estate, and was declared thepurchaser. A large bonfire was lighted on February 20th, 1878, by thetenants at Aghabey, near Luxnow, on their being apprised I had becometheir landlord. 

Another section of tenants, however, were anxious that the propertyshould be bought by Messrs. Lombard and Murphy, private individuals Inever met. 

The judge of the Landed Estate Court, Judge Ormsby, gave them theproperty. 

I appealed against this decision, and the Court of Appeal unanimouslyreversed the verdict of Judge Ormsby, the three judges being the LordChancellor of Ireland, the Master of the Rolls--who said it was one ofthe most important cases decided since the foundation of the LandCourt--and Lord Justice Deasy. I have been told on most excellentauthority that Lord Justice Christian declined to sit because, as hetold the Lord Chancellor, he felt so strongly in my favour that he couldnot hear the case with an unbiassed mind. 

There had been a demonstration at the previous decision, but it paledbefore the great rejoicings over my success among all the tenantry overwhom I was agent. There were more than fifty bonfires blazing that nightin Kerry, so that the county looked as though it were signalling theadvent of another Armada, as in the fragment Macaulay left. The onlyplace where any opposition was exhibited was in Castleisland, whence theLombard family originally sprang; and there the lighted tar-barrels, which had been placed on the ruins of the old castle, were extinguished, to avoid unpleasant contact with a gang of rowdy roughs. 

Messrs. Lombard and Murphy had stated that they were buying on behalf ofthe tenants. So I served them with notice that if they undertook to sellto every tenant his own holding they might have the property. 

This they very wisely declined, and left me in the position that in 1879I finally purchased a property on what was called an indefeasibleParliamentary title, under the approval of Her Majesty's Judges, and in1881 an Act of Parliament practically took one-third of it from me. 

In 1881 I wrote a letter to Mr. Gladstone, asking him to take myproperty and give me back my money. 

To this he returned an evasive answer, declining my offer. 

If the tenants had themselves bought the Harenc property at that timethey would by this time all be paupers, for they could only gettwo-thirds of the money from Government, and would have had to borrowthe other third at a heavy rate of interest. 

One man, Mr. Hewson, bought one of the farms for Ł13, 500, and under Mr. Gerald Balfour's Act of 1896 it was compulsorily sold to the tenants forabout Ł6000. I have the exact figures at Tralee, but these areapproximate enough for the purpose of demonstration. 

Several of the other tenants took me into Court. 

I had a piece of reclaimable ground on my own hands which I let foreight shillings an acre. The adjoining tenant, with exactly the samenature of land--which he swore on oath he had paid more than thefee-simple in improving--had his rent fixed by the County Court at fourshillings an acre. 

To be sure, if the County Court valuer had not done so, he would havequickly lost his employment. The position is one incompatible withhonesty, and the value of land, apart from what you can get for it, is avery disputable matter. 

My relations with my Harenc tenantry were always good. 

After the purchase in 1879 I had no trouble with them, and on thecontrary received the warmest thanks from the parish priest for myconduct as a landlord. 

I drained soil and imported seed potatoes, besides executing otherimprovements. The estate was not in good order when I purchased it, andI know from other sources that the tenants were well satisfied with me. 

I may as well mention, that having no agencies on the Listowel side ofKerry, I was never on the Harenc property before the question ofpurchasing arose, and it had on it no house in which I and my familycould reside. 

Until 1881 no tenant made any hostile move, but one fellow, who took meinto the Land Court after the Land Act, presented a very curious case. 

This man, whose rent was sixty-five pounds a year, applied to the Courtfor reduction. There was a press of business at the time whichnecessitated an adjournment, but in the end the Court fixed the new rentat the same amount as the old rent. 

The tenant appealed; but though the Appeal Court valuers attested thatit was worth seventy-five pounds a year, still the rent was unchanged. 

In other words, the Government sold me a farm and parliamentary title atsixty-five pounds a year which one set of Commissioners thought fair andthe other thought cheap, and yet I had to spend more than half a year'srent in defending my title to it. 

There is no appeal as to value, except to the head Commissioners. Theyappoint two other Sub-Commissioners to inspect the land, and they ofcourse avoid disagreeing with their brethren. 

It is very like Mr. Spenlow in _David Copperfield_, who said, 'If youare not satisfied with Doctors' Commons you can go to the delegates, 'and being asked who the delegates were, he replied that they came fromDoctors' Commons. 

I bought the Harenc property as a speculation, and it turned out aconfoundedly bad one. 

Once I had a conversation with a Land Leaguer on the subject. He said:--

'You bought a stolen horse, and must take the consequences. '

'If that were so, ' I retorted, 'I would have an action against theGovernment which sold me the horse. '

I had a correspondence on the subject with Mr. Chamberlain, whichelicited some remarkable letters; but as he marked all of his privateand confidential, they of course cannot be published. 

Now for a few anecdotes, just to show that I have not exhausted mystock. 

It would be cruel to specify the individual of whom I can truthfullysay, he was the biggest fool that ever disfigured the Irish bench. 

He had been tutor to the children of a great peer, and his patronsubsequently pressed the Prime Minister to do something for him. 

'I can't make him a County Court judge, ' said the Prime Minister, 'forhe would never decide rightly. '

'Well, ' said another Minister, 'we are going out, and have not the ghostof a chance of ever getting in again in our time. Let him beSolicitor-General for Ireland during the last weeks we hold office. '

So this was done out of sheer good-nature; but after the election theGovernment found themselves saddled with him, for in those days holdersof high office were not shelved at the caprice of Premiers, whilst thecountry had unexpectedly returned the old gang to power. 

It has always been averred by the Irish Bar that an office was speciallycreated for the purpose of shunting this legal luminary into it, but asan historical fact I will not vouch for the truth of the sarcasm. Theaccount of the Cabinet conclave came to me on excellent authority. 

When Chief Justice Monaghan died, Lord Morris, who was then a PuisneJudge of Common Pleas, observed that he himself had a good chance of thepost. 

'What about Keagh and Lawson?' asked his acquaintance, they beingbrother judges. 

'Very good men, ' replied Lord Morris, 'but as they were not appointed bythe Tories, I don't think they'll promote them. '

'And how about Ormsby?' continued the other. 

'Ah now, ' said Morris, 'you are getting sarcastic. '

There is a cheery story about Judge Keagh, who has just been mentioned. 

A number of brothers were before him, charged with killing a man atListowel. 

The judge was most anxious to ascertain from an important witness whatshare each of the accused had in the murder. 

'What did John do?'

'He struck him with his stick on the head. '

'And James?'

'James hit him with his fist on the jaw. '

'And Philip?'

'Philip tried to get him down and kick him. '

'And Timothy?'

'He could do nothing, my lord, but he was just walking round searchingfor a vacancy. '

Which reminds me that fair play is not always recognised as essential inthese matters, as the following anecdote shows. 

There was a faction feud between the Kellehers and Leehys near Sneem. 

One of the Leehys had a bad leg, and was therefore bound apprentice to ashoemaker in Sneem. 

On a fair day a solitary Kelleher ventured into the town, and veryspeedily the Leehys had half-killed and beaten him as well as theirnumbers would allow. 

Suddenly there was a shout, and the poor lame Leehy came hobbling downthe street as fast as his wooden leg would permit. 

'Boys, for the love of mercy, ' says he, 'let a poor cripple have one goat the black-hearted varmint. '

One of the counsel engaged in the Harenc case was Mr. Murphy, who was anear relative of Judge Keagh, and he was a man of ready wit into thebargain. 

There was a company promoter from London, who had induced several peopleto take shares in a bogus concern, and was consequently defendant in anaction brought against him in Cork. 

He thought he would make an impression on the wild Irish by beingoverdressed and gorgeously bejewelled. 

When Murphy arose to address the jury, he said:--

'Gentlemen of the jury, look at the well-tailored impostor without a ragof honesty to take the gloss off his new clothes. '

Another counsel in the case was Mr. Byrne. He was always in impecuniouscircumstances despite his legal eloquence, but the lack of a balance athis banker's never troubled him. 

Once he took Chief Justice Whiteside to see his new house in Dublin, which he had furnished in sumptuous style. 

'Don't you think I deserve great credit for this?' he asked at length. 

'Yes, ' retorted Whiteside, 'and you appear to have got it. '

Lord Justice Christian, who had declined to sit on the Appeal, wasconsidered one of the soundest opinions in Ireland. When he ceased to besole Judge of Appeal, he had addressed the Bar after this fashion:--

'As this is the last time I sit as sole Judge of Appeal, it is anopportune time for me to review my decisions. By a curious coincidence, I have been thirteen years in this Court, and I have decided thirteencases which have been taken to the House of Lords. Eleven of mydecisions were confirmed, one appeal was withdrawn, and the last was apurely equity case. The two equity lords went with me, the two commonlaw lords were against me, and when I inform the Bar that my judgmentwas reversed on the casting vote of Lord O'Hagan, I do not think theywill attach much importance to the decision. '

Judge Christian's allusion to the Land Act is most noteworthy, for hesaid:--

'The property of the country is confided to the discretion of certainroving commissioners without any fixed rules to guide and direct them. In fact, we have reverted to the primitive state of society, where menmake and administer the laws in the same breath. '

Reverting to the Harenc estate, a rather amusing account was onceperpetrated by a Special Commissioner. 

'Never heard tell of Ballybunion?' said his carman to the journalist ason the road they met the carts laden with sand and seaweed from thatplace. 'Why it's a great place intirely in the season, when quality fromall parts come for the sea-bathing. '

As he evidently regarded it as the first watering-place in the world, the Special Commissioner thought he had better see the place, and hereis his description:--

'A village perched on the summit of a cliff, an ancient castle of theFitz-Maurice clan, wonderful caves, and a little hotel are the leadingfeatures of the place. 

'The morning after my arrival, I experienced a wish to see the cliffsand caves, and no sooner were the words spoken than a figure bearing anunlit torch appeared at the door. 

'It was Beal-bo (which may be translated into a somewhat Siouxcognomen--the Yellow Cow). A figure in rags with an inimitable limp, anda fashion of closing one eye that reminds one of Victor Hugo's Quasimodoof Notre Dame. A more intimate acquaintance proved there was muchinstruction, and a good deal of amusement, to be derived from thisstrange character. 

'The grand cave is Beal-bo's special source of revenue. He regards it ashis own property, and takes a pride in it accordingly. This is thetheatre of the many wiles he practises upon unsuspecting strangers. Whenhe has lured them into the bowels of the cave, he turns down a gallery, and informs them that they cannot get out unless they cross a pool aboutfive feet wide. When he has his victim upon his back, he seizes theopportunity to levy blackmail, for the pool is a quicksand and hesuddenly affects great fear. After he has sunk to the knees in theyielding sand, the tourist is glad enough to give him a shilling tohurry across. 

'In another gallery it is necessary for the stranger to cross a pool ona plank which Beal-bo provides for the occasion, and on this he chargesa toll. He used to let the water in to deepen the pools before thetourists came through, in order to bring his plank into requisition. 

'Suspended on a cliff between heaven and sea, one hundred feet above thewater, on all sides were piled the immense masses of masonry, the ruinsof which are all that remains of the once proud Castle of Doon. Gazingin awe down the horrid depths of the "Puffing Hole, " Beal-bo informedus:--

'"Twas there Brian used to sleep in the day, and come out at night tomilk the cows up in the Killarney hills, he and his dog. "'

The Special Commissioner looked incredulous, but Beal-bo wasconfident:--

'"May I never be saved, sir, if I haven't seen him meself, many a night, sir, as he climbed the cliffs backwards to rob the hawks' nests. "'

How can even a Special Commissioner dispute an eyewitness?

Still the knowledge that I own a harbour of refuge for Brian will hardlyrepay me for all the expense and anxiety the Harenc property has causedme. 

Before quitting the subject, I can conclude with a more gratifying fact. 

At the time of the Tralee election, when I stood as a Conservative, asmall clique of mob orators and amateur politicians tried to makepolitical capital out of the history of the Harenc estate, and a priest, Father M. O'Connor, rode the jaded topic to death. The unkindest cut ofall to him was the direct contradiction by the tenants themselves ofevery assertion that their self-constituted champions made on theirbehalf. 

'We, the tenants of the Harenc estate, think it our duty to state thatsince Mr. S. M. Hussey became purchaser of the above estate, he has inevery respect treated us kindly. He was good enough to give us seedpotatoes for half the price they cost himself; he also drained ourportions of the land at two and a half per cent. , employed all thelabourers, and paid them good wages while so employed by him. As alandlord we find him liberal and generous. '

To this were appended fifty signatures, and the best part of all is thatthe whole of the manifesto was absolutely unsolicited by me, proving anunexpected source of pleasure. 

CHAPTER X

KERRY ELECTIONS

An election in most places is an occasion for breaking heads, abusingopponents, and other similar demonstrations of ardent localphilanthropy. Such opportunities are never lost by Kerry men, whoseheads are harder and whose wits are sharper than those of the averagerun of humanity. If you are a real Kerry man of respectable convictions, and self-respecting into the bargain, you will never let the man who isdrinking with you entertain any opinions but your own at election times. If he contradicts you, it's up with your stick and a crack on his skull, and as that only tickles him up--having much the effect of a nettleunder a donkey's tail--you then go outside and mutually destroy as muchof each other as can be effected in a fight. Some weeks later, when thevanquished is able to crawl away from the dispensary doctor, and so savehis own life amid the dire forebodings of that physician, who refuses toanswer for the consequences, you begin to drink with him again just toshow there is no ill-feeling; which of course there is not, if you andhe are both real Kerry men. Naturally, if you get a sullen, revengeful, calculating Protestant from the North, it's another matter, for he'll befar too friendly with the constabulary and won't hold with the good oldlocal ways approved by every Kerry Papist and tolerated by most of thepriests. 

In 1851 there was a Kerry election. A Protestant candidate stood, and sodid one who in those days was a Whig. I went stoutly for theProtectionist, but the priests plumped for the Free Trader, and theircongregations have been regretting it ever since. 

One tenant was driving in a gig with me to the poll when a priest passedme on the road and said to my tenant:--

'May the blast of the Almighty be upon you, for I know you are beingtaken to vote the wrong way. '

The tenant got very nervous, for in those times it was generallybelieved that the priests had power to change men into frogs and toads, a superstition by no means obsolete even now in lone districts. However, I took him along very easily, giving him the benefit of the roll of mytongue as to what he should do, and before he reached the polling-boothhe recovered and voted for the Tory. 

A Mr. Scully from Tipperary was the Whig candidate, and the family wasnot popular in its own county. 

A Cork man, making inquiries of a Tipperary man about him, wasanswered:--

'I don't know this gentleman personally, but I believe we have alreadyshot the best of the family. '

Mr. Scully was a very amusing man, and in the House of Commons he usedto go by the nickname of 'old Skull. '

Lord Monk accosted him by this name one night, and Mr. Scully replied:--

'If you have taken the "e y" off your own name, my lord, it is no reasonyou should do it off mine. '

Here is another story of him. 

Mr. Dillwyn said to him, a Roman Catholic:--'I have lived sixty years inthis world, and I don't yet know the difference between the tworeligions. '

'Bydad, ' retorted Scully, 'you will not have been five minutes in theother without finding it out. '

Shortly after the franchise was enlarged--which threw ImperialParliament at the mercy of the ignorant--old Lord Kenmare died and thepresent peer was called up to the House of Lords. 

Lord Kenmare was the most popular landlord in Kerry, and he selected aRoman Catholic cousin of his, Mr. Dease, to stand for the county, Mr. Roland Blennerhasset, a young Protestant landlord, being started againsthim in support of Home Rule principles. 

The Roman Catholic bishop and most of the priests backed Mr. Dease, butthe Home Rule candidate beat him by three to one. Some of the priests, who were very obnoxious to the people, supported Mr. Blennerhasset, andwere then idolised, whilst a very popular parish priest, who canvassedfor Mr. Dease, had to run for his life. 

From thenceforth no one but a Home Rule candidate had any chance inMunster, and Mr. Roland Blennerhasset, having seen the error of hisways, afterwards became a Unionist candidate in England. He is a veryclever man, who was quite young then, but has now blossomed into a K. C. In London, and is mighty shrewd about speculations. 

The election was great fun except for the stones and bricks, of whichenough were thrown about to build a city without foundations. Mr. Deasegot a blow on his ribs at Castle Island, which told on his health, andhe died soon afterwards. He was a brother of Sir Gerald Dease, and a manvery much liked. 

It was during this election that I was fired at one night at Aghadoe, returning from Puck Fair at Killorghin. A rumour was started that it wasthe work of one of the tenants on Sir George Colthurst's Cork estates, and the Tralee correspondent of the _Examiner_ telegraphed his belief inthis, adding 'so repugnant are Kerry men to these dastardly outrages. '

They took to them as greedily as a duck to water in later times, as allthe world knows; and in the light of subsequent events it is delightfulto remember that the _Freeman_ stated, 'All condemn this dastardly act, for Mr. Hussey is universally respected. '

It atoned for this lapse into truth by subsequently taking my name invain hundreds of times in the bad periods that were ahead. 

There had been a libel case between the Rev. Denis O'Donoghue, parishpriest of Ardfert, and myself. The address of this cleric in proposingMr. Blennerhasset at the nomination had annoyed those he assailedintensely. Up to that point I had been utterly indifferent, but afterthat I strained every nerve to defeat Father O'Donoghue's nominee. 

This is an extract from his speech at Ardfert:--

'Sam Hussey is a vulture with a broken beak, and he laid his voracioustalons on the consciences of the voters. (Boos. ) The ugly scowl of SamHussey came down upon them. He wanted to try the influence of his darknature on the poor people. (Groans). Where was the legitimate influenceof such a man? Was it in the white terror he diffused? Was it not theespionage, the network of spies with which he surrounded his lands? Hedenied that a man who managed property had for that reason a shadow of ashade of influence to justify him in asking a tenant for his vote. Whathad they to thank him for?'

A voice: 'Rack rents. '

'They knew the man from his boyhood, from his _gossoonhood_. He knewhim when he began with a _collop_ of sheep as his property in the world. (Laughter. ) Long before he got God's mark on him. It was not the man'sfault but his misfortune that he got no education. (Laughter. ) He had inthat parish schoolmasters who could teach him grammar for the next tenyears. The man was in fact a Uriah Heep among Kerry landlords. (Cheers. )'

The result of this and other incentives to irritability was that thevoters for Mr. Dease had to be escorted by troops and constabulary. 

The sporting proclivities had already been shown over a race. In theCounty Club at Tralee there was an altercation between Mr. Sandes and aleading 'Deasite' as to the rival merits of a bay mare belonging to oneand a chestnut horse owned by the other. 

Quoth Mr. Sandes:--

'I'll run you a two mile steeplechase for a hundred guineas if you like, and I'll call my horse Home Rule--do you call yours Deasite; each toride his own horse. '

No Kerry man could refuse such a challenge, and the race excited moreinterest than the election. 

Mr. Sandes won, leaving 'Deasite' nowhere, and this helped Mr. Blennerhasset to head the poll. 

More than one man is asserted to have voted for:--'Him you know that melandlord wants me to vote for. '

But I should say several dozen voted for:--

'Him you know that the priest, God bless him, tells me to vote for. '

The libel over which the action arose was alleged to have been publishedin the _Cork Examiner_, and the words complained of were pretty sturdy. 

The jury returned a verdict of one farthing for the plaintiff priest, and I do not think he derived as much advertisement out of it as MissMarie Corelli obtained from a similar coin of the realm. 

Of course all this should have shown me that I had in my own interestsbetter keep clear of Kerry politics, but after I had bought the Harencestate, I stood for Tralee as a Tory against The O'Donoghue, who was aNationalist. I never supposed I was going to get in, but I really had acapital run for the Parliamentary Handicap, though I was weighted bypolitical convictions and penalised by my creed. The priests made a mostactive set against me. There were only fifty Protestants on theregister, and yet I managed to get one hundred and thirty votes, forwhich suffrages some eighty honest men must have been well worrited inthe confessional. 

The O'Donoghue polled one hundred and eighty votes, and I believe a goodmany of his supporters had strong views on the currency question, and hewas backed by a wealthy merchant. The constituency is now merged intothe county, and the remotest chance of returning a rational member isnow at an end. 

The O'Donoghue did not stand after the merging of the constituency, though he was well used to electioneering work and had fought me verypleasantly, with as much devil about him as would make an angelpalatable. 

I did not much care for the whole thing. Still I was always a bit of astormy petrel rejoicing in a gale, and my capacity has not waned even inmy eightieth year. 

The mob indulged in some lively work. A good many windows of housesbelonging to my supporters were broken and a man stabbed. 

The polling day was made the occasion of a public holiday, which meantthat the bulk of the population was imbibing a great deal more than wascompatible with the laws of equilibrium. Some amusement was caused bythe panic of The O'Donoghue's supporters at the votes I was getting, andpresently they brought up in cars one poor man in an advanced stage ofconsumption, and another unable to walk from old age. 

It was a wearisome day to me; but before its close it became abundantlyevident that if the electors were allowed to exercise a free discretionand vote according to their consciences, I should have headed the pollby a large majority. However in Ireland man proposes and the priestdisposes. 

At a meeting of the Conservative electors in Cork, Mr. Standford read atelegram announcing the return of The O'Donoghue in Tralee, which wasreceived with hisses. He said the reason I had stood there was arequisition, signed by Sir Henry Donovan, in the presence of nine grandjurors of the County of Kerry, calling on me to do so. Sir Henry Donovanhad since turned over to The O'Donoghue from the man he had forced intothe field. Now that would teach them not to be fooled by Liberalpromises. It almost made him believe no truth, no honour, and nosincerity existed among their opponents. 

This was received with applause, which was renewed with laughter whenMr. Young observed:--

'I will make one remark. I think Sir Henry Donovan and The O'Donoghueare well met. '

To show that strong views in my favour were not confined to Protestants, I may quote the following letter written from the Augustinian Convent inDrogheda by J. A. Anderson, O. S. A. :--

'If the electors of Tralee return Mr. O'Donoghue (_alias_ TheO'Donoghue) as their representative in the coming Parliament, they willbe false to Ireland, false to the men that galvanised the dead body thatGavan Duffy left on "the dissecting table" before starting forAustralia, and they will have the honour (?) of returning to Parliamentthe greatest political renegade to Irish nationality that thisgeneration has known. '

A lady has recently drawn my attention to a footnote in Mr. Lecky's_History of Ireland_, where is quoted from a letter of my ancestor, Colonel Maurice Hussey, the following opinion:--

'It--i. E. Tralee--was a nest of thieves and smugglers, and so it alwayswill be until nine parts of ten of O'Donoghue's old followers beproclaimed and hanged on gibbets on the spot. '

So when O'Donoghues have troubled me, it is a case of history repeatingitself, and if the percentage of the followers of the modern chieftainhad been 'removed'--as the modern phrase in Ireland ran--according tothe manner advocated by my ancestor, I could have voted in Parliamentagainst dismembering the Empire to gratify the eagerness of an old manto truckle to the traitors of the country intrusted to his care. 

CHAPTER XI

DRINK

Of course one of the great troubles in Ireland is drink. I am noadvocate for teetotalism, for I think a man who can enjoy a moderateglass is a better one than his brother who has to drink water in orderthat he may not yield to the overpowering 'tempitation'--to quote Mr. Huntley Wright--to get drunk! But for my fellow-countrymen I can seethat drink is a terrible curse, one which is the cause of half thecrime, half the illness, and more than half the misery that existsthere. 

Of all Irish benefactors, possibly Father Mathew was the greatest; butin my boyish days, when it became known that men, not yet in a lunaticasylum, had taken up the notion that human life was possible withoutalcoholic drinks, the wits of Kerry and Cork were heartily diverted atthe bare idea. 

It used to be the stock joke after dinner, even when Father Mathew wasin the zenith of his triumph. 

In Cork if you laugh at a thing you can generally suppress it, for, whereas all Irishmen are keenly susceptible to ridicule, the Cork folkare even more so. 

The cold water business furnished endless jests, but it survived them. 

Perhaps the strangest thing of all was the clergyman who preachedagainst it as being irreligious, taking as the text of his sermon, 'Wine, that maketh glad the heart of man. '

I like a man who is disinterested, therefore I wish to remind thepresent generation that Father Mathew came of a stock of distillers, andhis family was among the first to suffer by his preaching. 

It was probable there would be a reaction after his death; and when thatevent took place, after the famine and fever, none really took his placeto warn the diminishing population, in sufficiently effective fashion, of all the ills that drink was laying up for them. 

Wherever, in my work, I found Government relief works, within a stone'sthrow of every pay office a whisky shop started into operation. 

New Ireland arose from the famine, and she has never since shown muchsign of temperance. Indeed, an excessive amount of money is, and hasever since then been, spent on liquor in Ireland. 

At Castleisland, the scene of so many outrages, the population of thetown is thirteen hundred, and the number of whisky shops is fifty-two. Very nearly the same proportion can be noticed in several other towns. 

There never was an outrage committed without an empty whisky bottlebeing found close to the scene of the murder. 

In the worst time a moonlighter slept for a fortnight close to the houseof an Irish landlord, who was well aware that he was there for theexpress purpose of shooting him, but he never even attempted it. 

'Time after time I lay in a ditch to have a go at him, but he would rideby, looking for all the world as if he would shoot a flea off the tailof a shnipe, so that, with all the whisky in the world to help me, Idared not do it, ' was his explanation before he left for America. 

Did you never hear the parish priest's sermon?

'It's whisky makes you bate your wives; it's whisky makes your homesdesolate; it's whisky makes you shoot your landlords, and'--withemphasis, as he thumped the pulpit--'it's whisky makes you miss them. '

There is as much truth in that sermon as in any that was preached lastSunday between Belfast and Glengariff. 

As a matter of fact, the profits to the drink retailer are not soenormous as might be imagined, owing to the competition. 

In the neighbourhood of Castleisland there is one group of twelve housesand nine of these are whisky booths. However anxious the population maybe to consume immoderate amounts of the fiery liquor, and however largethe traffic on the road--never a big thing in Ireland, except onmarket-day--the division of the local receipts by nine is apt todiminish the profits in each case. 

It has been suggested to me by a lady who knows Kerry well, that theconsumption of drink might be diminished if a law were passed forcingthe publicans to sell food. As she very truly remarks, it is oftenimpossible for the country folk, even on market-day, when coming into atown, to get food for immediate consumption. 

However, I do not think this would have any effect. When away from hiscabin the Irishman and the Irishwoman want drink, not food, for thereare a few potatoes at home which will provide all the solid sustenancemost of them desire. 

If her proposal were made law, each publican would keep a loaf in hiswindow, and there it would stay for a year. 

That reminds me of the man who was waiting in Waterford Station on March12th, and to pass the time had a ham sandwich at the bar. 

After one mouthful he asked the astonished barmaid for another, made ofFebruary bread, because he really felt that it was time January breadmight have a rest. 

To give an example of how Irishmen crave for drink, I will relate anincident connected with the Parnell Commission. 

Three of Lord Kenmare's tenants had been sent over in charge of anexperienced and reliable man to give evidence, and on their returnjourney, when they arrived at North Wall--the hour being 6 A. M. --theconductor said:--

'There is cold meat, or bread and cheese. Now, what will your fancy be?'

Far from wanting nutrition after an all night journey, or even thesoothing solace of a cup of tea, it was half a pint of whisky apiecethat they all asked for. 

Just as much drinking exists among the Protestants as among the RomanCatholics, only there is a trifle more geniality in the bibulouspropensities of the latter. Much less affects an Irishman than aScotsman. The latter, when he has absorbed all the whisky he canassimilate in a bout--and no bad amount it is, let me observe--will goquietly to sleep. But an Irishman's joy is incomplete unless he knockssomebody down, which may account for the fact that the Irish are thebest soldiers in the world. 

One redeeming feature in the liquor traffic is the increasingconsumption of porter, for that at least has some nourishment in it, andis reasonably wholesome, whereas the whisky is vilely adulterated, notonly by the publicans before it reaches the consumer, but also in someof the factories. 

Puck Fair is the great annual fęte and mart of Killorglin; and it is socalled because a goat is always fastened to a stave on a platform, andgaily bedizened. Formerly the animal was attached to the flagstaff onthe Castle. To this fair all Kerry for many miles congregates, and theneighbouring roads towards evening are literally strewn with bibulousindividuals of either sex. 

On one occasion a Killorglin publican was in jail, and his father askedfor an interview because he wanted the recipe for manufacturing thespecial whisky for Puck Fair. It has been a constant practice to preparethis blend, but the whisky does not keep many days, as may be gatheredfrom the recipe, which the prisoner without hesitation dictated to hisparent:--

A gallon of fresh, fiery whisky. A pint of rum. A pint of methylatedspirit. Two ounces of corrosive sublimate. Three gallons of water. 

An Irishman's constitution must be tougher than that of an ostrich toenable him to consume much of the filthy poison. Temperance orators arewelcome to make what use they like of the recipe of this awfuldecoction, annually sold to a confiding population. 

It is not considered etiquette to come out of Killorglin sober on PuckFair; and, judging by the state of the people in the vicinity in theevening, this social custom is rigidly observed. 

They are wonderfully particular in Kerry in attending to exactly what iscongenial to them, and if it were not for the thickness of their heads agood many lives would be lost. 

There was a gauger, in a central county in Ireland, killed by a blow onthe head from a stick. 

The man who struck him, in his defence, stated:--

'I did not hit him a very hard blow, and why the devil did theGovernment make a gauger of a man that had a head no thicker than anegg-shell?'

Mighty few of the Killorglin folk have egg-shell heads, and the bulk ofthese do not come to maturity. 

The avowed fact that lunacy is largely on the increase in Ireland hasbeen pronounced by the committee which sat on the question in Dublin tobe mainly due, not only to excessive drinking, but to the assimilationof adulterated spirits. 

Though the foregoing recipe furnishes a pretty fair example, I certainlywould not wager that it could not be beaten elsewhere in Ireland. 

For a long time the priests were entirely apathetic on the subject, butlatterly they are bestirring themselves, and are doing their best to putdown wakes, which simply mean one or more nights of disgustingintemperance in the immediate vicinity of the corpse. 

Keening, by the way, is dying out, and what remains of this curious, mournful waiting is now almost entirely in the hands of old women whoare experts in the art, and get remunerated not only in drink but alsoin cash. 

It is, however, possible that when I am deploring the alcoholictendencies of the Irishman, that these may be due to his more vegetariandietary, and not to any undue natural craving for alcohol. This is borneout by the fact that no Irishman will willingly drink alone, and thathis potations are in the shops where whisky and porter are sold forconsumption on the premises, or at fairs, markets, weddings, or wakes, to the diminishing number of which I have just called attention. 

The parish priest of Dingle recently stated in court that in apopulation of seventeen hundred there were over fifty licensed houses, and he rightly declared that all dealings in licences should for thepresent be only by transfer, and that for five years at least no newlicences should be granted. The argument so often heard against stoppinglicences is that then more illicit drinking will ensue, but this doesnot convince me that the redundant licences should be renewed. 

My remedy would be to increase all renewals of licences to fifty poundsapiece, and to apply the difference as compensation to unrenewedlicences. If a man fits up his house as a shebeen, and has conducted ittolerably, he ought to receive just compensation when his licence iscancelled owing to there being too many in a district. 

If this is not done, he would be the victim of as great a robbery as wasperpetrated on the unfortunate landlords by the Land Act. 

I have a yarn or two on the subject of drink which may be appropriatelyrelated here. 

Old David Burus, the steward at Ardrum, County Cork, was a greatcharacter who had got inextricably confused between the Council of Trentand the Trant family in the vicinity, and no amount of explanation couldever enlighten him. Directly he had begun to be jovial, he used tosay:--

'My blessing on Councillor Trent, who put a fast on meat, but not ondrink. '

And he proved the devoutness of his gratitude by conscientiously gettingdrunk every Friday. 

That recalls to my mind the case of the illustrious gentleman--also afellow-countryman, I regret to say--who committed burglary and murderwhen there was an opportunity, but religiously refrained from eatingmeat on Friday. 

Reverting to David Burus: on one occasion I remonstrated with him on theamount of whisky he drank. 

'I did drink a great deal of whisky, and I would have drunk more. ' washis reply, 'if I had known it was going to be as dear as it is now. '

He evidently regretted not having thoroughly saturated himself withalcohol. It was the only way in which he could have possibly increasedhis consumption. 

He was wont to say that if he had known the trick Mr. Gladstone wasgoing to play on honest, God-fearing men, with sound stomachs and adecent appetite, by imposing a ten shilling duty on every gallon ofwhisky, he would have drunk his fill beforehand, even if _deliriumtremens_ had been the penalty. 

Such hard drinking as his, and so calmly avowed, must, even in the southof Ireland, be fortunately rare, for few constitutions can standconversion into animated whisky vats. 

There was a farmer at Kanturk railway station who confided to thestationmaster that he himself on the previous evening had been as drunkas the very devil. 

A parson on the platform, overhearing him, said:--

'You make a mistake, my friend, the devil does not drink. He keeps hishead cool for the express purpose of watching such as you. '

The countryman replied:--

'You seem to be very well acquainted with the respected gentleman'shabits, your riverince. '

And then they walked off different ways. 

Which reminds me of another clerical incident. 

A parish priest within twenty miles of Tralee, who subsequently left theChurch--I will not say on account of his thirst, though, as that wasunquenchable, it no doubt conduced to his retirement--came into theparlour of the manager of the bank with two farmers to have a billdiscounted. 

The manager, having ascertained the farmers were good security, cashedthe bill and gave the proceeds to the priest. He was very much surprisedon the following day at the two farmers walking into his room with themoney. 

'What's the meaning of this?' says he. 

'Well, your honour, we could not stay in the parish, if we refused tojoin his reverence in the deal, which was sure to be a very bad one forus. So we thought the best thing to do was to get him a little hearty athis own expense on the way home. And then we picked his pocket and havebrought the money to your honour, whilst he is cursing every thiefoutside his parish, and will probably ask the congregation to make upthe amount next Sunday. '

And that is a true story, and as illustrative of the Irish peasant asany you could ever get told to you. 

A coffin-maker named Sullivan thrived in Tralee. He received an orderfor a coffin for a man living about six miles away from the town. It wasnot called for for a week, and so he went out to the house where the manlay dead to inquire the cause. 

When he came back to Tralee, he said to a friend:--

'Who do you think I saw, Mick, but that scoundrel of a corpse sitting ina ditch eating a piece of pig's cheek. '

That reminds me of another coffin story. 

A man who lived in Cork was notorious for being always behind time foreverything. He knew his failing, and was rather touchy about it. 

One night, stumbling out of a whisky shop, he lurched into a yard, fellagainst a door, which gave way, and finished his slumbers peacefully inthe shed, which was the storehouse of an undertaker. 

In the morning he awoke, rubbed his eyes in astonishment at the strangesurroundings amid which he found himself, and after recollecting his ownpet proclivity, as he ruefully surveyed all the empty coffins, ejaculated:--

'Just my usual luck. Late for the Resurrection. '

Which recalls another tale:--

A man was dead drunk, so some friends, for a lark, brought him into adark room, lit a lot of phosphorus, and made up one of their party inthe guise of a devil before they flung a bucket of water over theirvictim. 

'Where am I?' asked the fellow, looking round 'skeered. '

'In hell, ' retorted the devil, with exaggerated solemnity. 

'Heaven bless your honour, as you know the ways of the place, will youget me a drop of drink?'

But a mere drop does not suffice as a friend of mine found out. 

He was wont to reward his car-driver with a glass of whisky, and gave itto him in an antique glass, which did not contain as much as cabbywished for. 

'That's a very quare glass, captain, ' says he. 

'Yes, ' replied Captain Stevens; 'that's blown glass. '

'Why, Captain, ' says the carman, 'the man must have been damned short inthe breath that blew that. '

This would no doubt have been the opinion of a Dublin carman who was inthe habit of bringing a present to an acquaintance of mine from a ladyliving at some distance, and being recompensed with a glass of grog. Bydegrees, however, the water grew to be the predominant partner in theunion within the glass, so at last he burst out in disgust:--

'If you threw a tumbler of whisky over Carlisle Bridge, it would bebetter grog than that at the Pigeon House. '

Which being interpreted into cockneyism would read, 'If you threw aglass of whisky over Westminster Bridge it would be better grog thanthat at Greenwich Pier. '

Still all consumption of liquor is not confined to Ireland, and I wellremember when I was with Bogue in Scotland, that one night he had afellow-farmer of the very best type to dine with him, and about teno'clock, with much difficulty, my man and I hoisted him into the saddle. 

An hour afterwards we heard a knock at the door, and a voice ratherquaveringly inquired:--

'Pleash, can you tell me the way to X. , I have lost my way?'

The tracks next morning revealed he had been riding round and round thehouse without once quitting the vicinity, which was almost as bad asMark Twain's famous nocturnal perambulation with his pedometer, when hewent on a tramp abroad!

Of potation stories I could tell scores more, and the Tralee Club hasseen enough whisky imbibed within its walls to drown all the members. 

A quaint character named Mullane was at one time steward, and decidedlyastonished a member, who was a total abstainer, by charging him in hisbill for three tumblers of punch. 

'Well, ' explained Mullane, 'it's this way. Some take six tumblers, andsome takes none, so I strikes an average--and to tell you the truth, it's mighty convenient for the great majority. '

A quaint member of the club was Mr. Edward Morris. He was extremelydiminutive, and he wore an eyeglass. One evening he was standing on thefirst landing, pondering in a bemused state whether he could getdownstairs without falling, when a pursey little doctor trotted past himwithout even touching the bannister. 

This inspired Morris with courage, so he let go his hold of thebalustrade, whereupon he promptly fell on the physician, and both rolledto the bottom of the stairs. 

Thence in hiccuping tones were heard:--

'Waiter! Waiter, put the glass in my eye, and let me see who thescoundrel was who struck me. '

On another evening in the club, when he had imbibed very freely, heordered an additional glass of grog, and began to moralise aloud, addressing it after this fashion:--

'Glass of grog, if I drink you now, you'll cut the legs from under me. And yet I want you, and I will not do without you. So I know what I willdo. I'll go to bed and I'll drink you there, for I don't care a damnwhat you do to me then. '

The indifference of a drunken man to subsequent consequences was ratherquaintly shown by that weird individual Dr. Tanner, when he went up toSir Ellis Ashmead Bartlett in the lobby of the House of Commons, andabruptly observed:--

'You're a fool. '

Sir Ellis fixed him with his eyeglass, and, in disgusted tones, replied:--

'You're drunk. '

'I suppose so, ' retorted the Irishman, 'but then I'll be soberto-morrow'--in the most plaintive tone, then in a crescendo of scorn--'whereas you'll always be a fool. '

Moreover as he slouched down the lobby, he was heard to say:--

'If I do get a headache, I've a head to have it in, not a frame on whichto hang an eyeglass. '

That is a political amenity on which I will not dwell. 

Very little money-lending is to be heard of in the south of Ireland, andin all my experience I only remember one case in Kerry. Tenants inIreland, however, have great horror of breaking bulk, and many of themwill do a bill for a neighbour when they have deposits in the bank forthemselves. As it is a point of honour never to refuse a friend in thisrespect, you can easily imagine the amount of 'paper' which isfluttering. 

Even when a farmer has a tidy sum of money on deposit with the bank atone per cent. , if he wants to employ a sum for a short time, say for thepurchase of cattle, he prefers to raise the money on a bill at six percent. 

That is to say, the bank is lending him his own money at five percent. --a truly Hibernian trait, which it would be difficult to beatanywhere. 

A bill for drink is not recoverable, but occasionally an insidiouspublican will take a man's I. O. U. And sue on that. 

One applied to me to help him to get the money from a tenant. 

'You must show me the account, ' said I. 

As I suspected, there was whisky in it, and I declined on the spot. 

All drink in Ireland is on cash down terms only. 

If they gave tick, they would never recover the money, and if everyIrishman is a knowing scoundrel, the publican is a trifle moreknowledgable than the customer, whose brains are besodden. 

A man, who had been a servant of mine, started a public near Tralee, andthinking he would get customers from the other whisky stores, he gavetick. His popularity lasted just as long as the tick did, and a weeklater he was broke. I do not say so much about Tralee being able tosupport one hundred and sixty liquor shops, because there is a littleshipping, but how Cahirciveen can enable fifty publicans to thrive is amelancholy mystery to me. 

I was animadverting once, at Dingle, on the topic, when one of mylabourers remarked:--

'It's the gentry does the drinking. '

'Now that's very curious, ' said I, 'for as there are only two of us, andas I never touch spirits, the other must have such a thirst that he'dconsume the bay if only it were made of whisky. '

In these democratic days, it is as well to resist any undue aspersion onthe upper classes. 

To pass any aspersion on the bibulous propensities of a tenant of minenamed Flaherty would be impossible. When he was buying his farm, I toldhim the Government ought to take him on very easy terms, when theybecame his landlords. 

'And for why?' he asked. 

'Because, ' I replied, 'the duty you pay on the whisky you drink is morethan twenty times your annual rent. '

I had, however, one personal illustration of the drinking propensity inScotland, which I think is worth preserving. It is some years now sinceI went to see a certain farmer who, his wife told me, on noticing myapproach, was compelled to go upstairs to cool his head as it was afterdinner. She said this much in the same casual tone, as I should mentionthat my wife had gone up early to dress for that meal. 

Next, I heard heavy splashing of water, and then a crash which portendedthat the farmer had fallen over the washstand, making a fearful clatter. 

In rushed the drab of a servant maid, perfectly indifferent to mypresence, shrieking:--

'O missus, come up, come up, the maister is just miraculous among thechaney!'

CHAPTER XII

PRIESTS

I have been asked, since my friends became aware that I am perpetratingmy reminiscences, whether I was going to write anything supplemental toMr. MacCarthy's _Priests and People_, and _Five Tears in Ireland_. 

My reply was:--

'Certainly not. '

To begin with, I have many friends among Roman Catholics, and plenty ofcheery acquaintances among the priests. Secondly, the state of feud andhostility on which Mr. MacCarthy dilates is more likely to be found inUlster and Leinster than in Kerry, where the Roman Catholics form morethan nine-tenths of the population. 

On one occasion, when a distinguished Englishman was staying atKillarney House, I told him that he should go to the north to see thestrangest sight in the world--two races hating one another for the loveof God. 

It is not my business to estimate what would happen in Kerry if a fewthousand rabid Orangemen were plumped down among the presentinhabitants; but according to existing circumstances creeds are not tornto tatters nor religion disfigured by strife and slander. 

All the same, I am bound to say that the Roman Catholic priests, when Iwas young, were much superior to those of to-day. They were drawn from abetter class, because, having to be educated at Rome, or, at least, asfar away as St. Omer, entailed some considerable outlay by theirrelatives. Moreover, they brought back from their continental seminariesbroader ideas than can be acquired in purely Irish colleges. Theirinterest had been stimulated at the most impressionable age in much ofwhich the farmers and labourers had no conception. Therefore the priestcould address his flock with authority, and was invariably looked up toas well as obeyed. 

The parish priest at Blarney erected a tower in commemoration of thebattle of Waterloo, and a public house in the vicinity bears the name tothis day. 

What parish priest would raise a memorial to any English victory in thetwentieth century?

The greatest curse to the Irish nation has been Maynooth, because it hasfostered the ordination of peasants' sons. These are uneducated men whohave never been out of Ireland, whose sympathies are wholly with theclass from which they have sprung, and who are given no trainingcalculated to afford them a broader view than that of the narrowestclass prejudice. 

As for the much discussed Irish university, I do not myself believe itwill be founded. 

Should even an English Government be blind enough to allow it, an Irishuniversity could only become a hot-bed of treason, and practically alleducated members of the Roman Catholic community would avoid sendingtheir sons to such a seminary of sedition, where the influence would beinsidiously directed to make the undergraduates even more hostile toEngland than they already are by inherited instincts and by all theyhave been told in their own homes. 

On the very day this page is written, I have mentioned the question ofan Irish university to two Protestants in the Carlton, both Members ofParliament, and both approved of the idea in a languid way. I have alsomooted the topic this afternoon to two leading Roman Catholics, and bothvehemently disapproved, alleging that it will work endless mischief. 

As far back as 1872 Dr. Macaulay wrote:--

'The Irish university question has been put off from year to year, andat length presses for settlement. '

In the best interests of Ireland, may the same thing be written thirtyyears hence!

If the Roman Catholics of England send their sons to Oxford andCambridge, why should not more Irish Roman Catholics send theirs toTrinity College, Dublin? Only a very few do, although the education issaid to be quite as good as at either of the great English Universities. A far tighter hold is kept, however, on the Roman Catholic laity inIreland than in England. It always surprises English people to learnthat, in Ireland, Roman Catholics are not allowed to enter Protestantchurches to attend either funerals or weddings. Nor do I think there ismuch probability of these restrictions being removed. 

Of course, in the years of outrage and terror in Ireland, many of thepriests from the altar denounced loyal members of the congregation, orincited their hearers to deeds of wickedness by their inflammatorysermons. These facts are among the blackest in the history of any creed, and I do not hesitate to class the work of some of the priests whodisgraced their Church with the worst perpetrations of the SpanishInquisition. 

Fortunately all priests were not, and are not, after this style. I haveknown many good and worthy men among them, as well as capital fellows, fond of a joke. Moreover, the Roman Catholic Church did not always takethe side of the Land League. 

For example, the bishops and parish priests laboured assiduously to getLord Granard his rents from his estates in Longford. 

Why?

Because Maynooth held a great mortgage on the property. 

In the famous De Freyne case, the parish priest energetically assistedthe landlord in every way in his power, because the property was heavilymortgaged with Roman Catholic charges. 

These are two facts that occur to me on the spur of the moment, andprobably other people could supply similar instances. 

As for the Episcopacy, it was the violence of Dr. Walsh, the Archbishopof Dublin, which prevented him from obtaining the coveted cardinal'shat. This was given to Dr. Logue, the Archbishop of Armagh and Primateof Ireland, a witty, capable, clever man, who had such an inveteratehabit of taking snuff that he did so even when conversing with QueenVictoria. 

'It prevents me from sniffing out heresy, ' he explained, with a twinkle, 'and so gives me an excuse for shutting my eyes to the different viewsof my neighbours. '

The Queen was much amused, but the remark conveyed a true view of IrishCatholicism. 

The fact is, his bishop can do very little with a treasonable man whenonce he has been inducted a parish priest; and the curate who obtainsirregular fees, of course, panders even more to the taste of hiscongregation. A bishop will haul up a tonsured subordinate mighty sharpfor any breach of ecclesiastical duty, but when it comes to politics andinstigation to crime, he finds it far more difficult to keep a tighthand. 

As a broad rule it may be stated that the bishops are well selected, andare of a much higher type than the average priest. 

Of the bishops of Killarney, Moriarty put down Fenianism with no lighthand, preaching, as I have already shown, in the most manly and emphaticstyle--which could have been emulated with advantage in otherEpiscopacies in my country. MacCarthy was a bookworm from Maynooth, whoplayed the deuce with the diocese, allowing all the priests to run wild, and by his laxity becoming criminally responsible for much of theterrible condition of Kerry. Higgins was the nominee of a friend ofMoriarty, and he worked hard to suppress outrages, by which course hecertainly did not add to his popularity among his flock. In his uprightand courageous conduct he has been worthily emulated by his successor, Coffey, whose demise occurred only in the present year. 

Kerry possesses one bishop, fifty-one parish priests and administrators, sixty-nine curates, and eleven priests occupied in tuition. 

There are six religious houses for males, and seventeen convents, representing about five hundred inhabitants, as well as three hundredstudents, which, with the occupants of subsidiary sacerdotalestablishments, is estimated to make up 1265 persons. 

In 1871, when the population of Kerry was 196, 586, there were 337priests and nuns. In 1901, when the population had become reduced to165, 726, the priests and nuns had increased to 546. 

And these statistics bring me to a salient point:--

The one reality above all others in Irish life is the grip of theChurch. 

In the last book which I have received from the library--_Paddy-Risky_by Mr. Andrew Merry--one of the stories is that of a poor widowbeggaring herself in order to provide the parish chapel with a bell, andthat is the kind of thing you hear of everywhere. 

The Roman Catholic Church presides over every function in the life ofeach member of its community, and the priest charges heavily foradministering the rites. 

At a wedding he does not take a prescribed fee, but makes a bargain, usually with the family of the bride. I have known as much astwenty-five pounds paid to a priest at a small farmer's marriage; andthe sum obtained is very often out of all proportion to the dowry of thebride, or even to the funds of the happy pair. 

An example may be cited--the case of a labourer in my own employ, whoreceived forty pounds as his wife's fortune, and had to pay eight to theparish priest. 

It is the same thing with funerals, over which a ridiculous amount isstill spent, although the wake is falling into disrepute under the banof the Church, and women are now rarely hired to 'keen. ' There is acraze to have a number of priests attending the service, and a good manyof them do go, very well pleased, as to a picnic. 

In parishes where the poverty is something appalling the members of thecongregation not only contribute Peter's Pence, but you cannot go intothe chapel without seeing some tiny candles lighted before the altar ofMary, which must literally represent the scriptural mites of the widowand orphan. 

Before I relapse into a few stories, let me say something about theProtestant clergy. 

They are nearly always recruited from the ranks of the smaller Irishgentry, and whilst, perhaps, richer in proportion than many of thecurates and incumbents in England, there are no 'fat' livings, and allare distinctly poorer since the Disestablishment. 

The average in Kerry, and over most of the south of Ireland, is astipend of two hundred pounds a year, which involves reading services intwo churches each Sunday, and therefore puts the clergyman to theexpense of keeping a horse and trap. 

About 1820 the district around Castleisland was divided into threeparishes--Castleisland, Ballincushlane, and Killeentierna--the jointrevenues of which were eighteen hundred a year. These were vested in theLord Bandon of the time, who lived in the lovely cottage on the upperLake of Killarney. 

He allowed a curate fifty pounds a year to do the joint duties, and Ihardly think the man was worth the money. He subsequently obtained aGovernment living and was in the habit of asking his congregation, asthey went into church, whether they wanted a sermon or not. The generalconcensus of opinion was a polite negative--to the relief of allparties. 

The method of electing a vicar in Ireland since the Disestablishment isboth sensible and practical. 

Three parish nominators, one lay diocesan nominator, two clericaldiocesan nominators, and the bishop, between them, choose the newincumbent. By the constitution of this Court of Election, it is certainthat no one will be appointed to whom the parish objects, whilst if theparish desires the nomination of an incompetent man, that is checked bythe diocesan voters in conjunction with the bishop. 

In fact it is an admirable system, far better than the patronage planstill rampant in England. 

The Irish bishops are also chosen by nominators drawn from the clergyand laity of the diocese, provided a two-thirds majority be obtained forany one candidate. If not, the Irish bench of bishops jointly selectsthe new wearer of lawn sleeves. 

This, again, works with perfect smoothness and never arouses theill-feeling aroused by the selections nominally made by the PrimeMinister. To-day the _Foundations of Belief_ may not be an essay whichcauses confidence in the ability of the author to pick the best bishops, and all the much-vaunted religious convictions of Mr. Gladstone did notmake his nominations to the Episcopacy particularly successful. It isnow no secret that Lord Cairns used to choose bishops for Disraeli andthat Lord Shaftesbury often was consulted by Prime Ministers who knewmore about sport than clericalism. 

So far as I can recollect, among all the Irish clergy I have met not onewas an Englishman, though there are plenty of Irish in the EnglishEstablished Church. 

All the Disestablished Church of Ireland is exceedinglyanti-ritualistic. 

'I do not want Mock-Turtle, when I am so near real Turtle, ' said SirGeorge Shiel, when asked to visit St. Alban's, Holborn, one of theRitualistic temples--an observation which represents the feelinganimating clergy and laity in Ireland, though they are none the betterpleased that out of the funds of the Disestablishment, Maynooth shouldhave received a capitalised sum equal to the previous annual grant fromGovernment. 

And now for just a few clerical tales. 

A man was dying and the priest was with him. 

'Ah, Father Philip, ' said the poor fellow, 'I am sure the likes of youwould never be deceiving a poor man and him on his deathbed. Tell mestraight, is my soul all right?'

'It is, my son, and in a very short time you'll be in the company of theBlessed Saints. '

'In that case, Father, I'll tell the devil he may just kiss my toe andbad luck to him for all the trouble I have had to get out of hisclutches, ' and the priest noticed his last sigh was one of completesatisfaction--no doubt anticipatory. 

Purgatory forms the foundation of many stories. 

A certain very poor widow was paying the priest money for the soul ofher son, who was killed in a faction fight. 

'And it's more masses you must have Mrs. Murphy, for Paddy has only gothis red hair out of purgatory. '

Later, when she was asked for further contributions:--

'It's his mouth which is out now, and he sends his mother on earthmessages to have prayers said to get him to heaven. '

A third time did Widow Murphy give the priest what she could not in theleast afford. 

Yet again he reported progress. 

'Now you must make a great effort, for his head and shoulders are out ofpurgatory. '

'Then it's devil another penny of mine will go for masses, for if my Pathas his head and shoulders out, I can safely reckon he'll soon wrigglehimself away entirely, God bless the poor darling. '

Another purgatory tale, this time concerning Father Batt. 

A fellow-priest came to see him, and over a friendly glass:--

'And what's the news?' asked Father Batt. 

'None that I know on earth, but I do hear tell that the floor ofpurgatory has given way and all the inhabitants have fallen into hell. '

'Oh, the poor Protestants, that will be all crushed by the weight atopof them, ' was Father Batt's rejoinder. 

Few priests in Kerry have been better known or more beloved than he, almost the last of the old-fashioned school, and he was always warmfriends with his Protestant colleague in Milltown, where he resided. 

Father Batt invariably took a few tumblers of hot whisky punch afterdinner, and having got ill was advised by the doctor to give it up andtake to claret. 

When the bishop met him some time later, he said:--

'Well, Father Batt, I am afraid you do not like claret so well as thewhisky. '

'It's this way, my lord, ' he replied. 'I don't object to the taste somuch as I thought I should, but I find it very tedious. '

It is with some diffidence that I venture upon a convent story. To beginwith, I am a Protestant, and secondly, in relation to one of theseladies' clubs under sacerdotal patronage I feel like Paul Pry, alwaysapologetic when putting in an appearance. 

Still, the tale is quite innocent and is absolutely true. 

The convent is in Kerry and up to recently the order had been anenclosed one. But a papal edict arrived one day, bidding the nuns go outto teach, and to collect, as well as to relieve, the suffering in theirown homes. 

The Mother Superior was exceedingly wroth. 

'What!' quoth she. 'Does the Holy Father want to be interfering with meafter I have been within these walls for the last eight-and-twentyyears? I am not going to begin tramping the roads at my time of life, not for the Holy Father himself, no, nor all the Cardinals too. A prettystate of things indeed. Why, he'll be telling me to ride a bicyclenext!'

The county of Cork was at one time so notorious for cattle-stealing thata Roman Catholic bishop went down specially to admonish them. 

When telling one parish priest to be firm with his congregation on thesubject, the bishop observed:--

'Nothing is more clearly laid down in the Bible than that if a man haspossession of another man's property he can never enter the kingdom ofheaven. '

'The Saints preserve us, ' exclaimed the priest; 'there'll be plenty ofempty houses there. '

It is not uncommon for a priest to get a bit of truth by accident or bycunning from one of his flock. 

The parish priest was congratulating a man who had married three wivesupon getting a bit of money with each, and received this answer:--

'Well, your reverence, I did not do badly at all, but between theweddings and the funerals, your reverence took care it was not all clearprofit. '

There is plenty of hard barter about the terms of these ceremonies, andon one occasion at Brosna, when the curate stood out for three pounds ashis fee for performing the marriage service, the would-be bridegroomheld out a thirty shilling note, saying:--

'Marry yourself to this, your reverence, and we'll be happy with yourblessing. '

As the persuasive eloquence of another man could not abate the pricewhich his priest demanded for a funeral, he blurted out:--

'Why, the blessed corpse in purgatory would shiver at the thought ofcosting so much to put away, and we but poor folk, with the pig thatcontrary we don't know whether the litter will survive. '

Here is a fish story connected with a member of my own family, MissClarissa Hussey, who was my aunt, and also a pious Roman Catholic. Sheused to hospitably entertain her confessor Father Tom, a priest with akeen appreciation of the good things of the table. Among hisparishioners it was known that he indicated the value he put on thecoming fare by the length of his preliminary grace. 

On a certain Friday in Lent he dined with her, and on a huge dish beingput down in front of his hostess, he expected a fine salmon, andshutting his eyes proceeded to pronounce a benediction the length ofwhich greatly gratified my aunt. On the cover being removed, however, his face fell, and in severe tones he rebuked her:--

'Was it for bake, ma'am, that I offered up the full grace?'

Nor could he be appeased all through the meal. 

That leads me to relate the funeral sermon delivered by a clergyman on alady who had died suddenly at her morning meal:--

'You all, dear brethren, well know the loss we have sustained in ourdeparted sister. She was ever alert and kindly, ever bountiful thoughwithout extravagance. To the last she preserved her characteristics. Onthe fatal morning of her removal from among us, she rose as usual andcame to the family breakfast-table. With no premonition of what was tocome she took her egg-spoon and cracked her egg, an egg laid by one ofher own hens. In another moment failure of the heart transferred her toa higher sphere. She began that egg on earth, she finished it inheaven. '

CHAPTER XIII

CONSTABULARY AND DISPENSARY DOCTORS

An Englishman once asked me, if I could suggest any way by which allIreland could be made loyal. I inquired if he thought the Irishconstabulary a loyal body. 

'Most decidedly, ' said he, without hesitation. 

'Then, ' I replied, 'if you will pay every Irishman seventy pounds a yearfor doing nothing, but look after other people's affairs--a thing bynature congenial to him as it is--you'll have the most loyal race onearth. '

That Englishman went away thoughtful, but I had shown him the solutionof one Irish problem which may be stated thus:--

Why do one half of the sons of farmers in Ireland, who have been or aremembers of the Irish constabulary, represent a body of men unequalledfor their respectability, loyalty, and courage, while a large proportionof the other, at least in the eighties, made up the bulk of the ignoblearmy of moonlighters, cattle maimers, and cowardly assassins crouchingbehind stone walls to shoot at an unsuspecting victim in the opening?

The answer is _Ł s. D. _, not an agreeable one, but truth is not alwayscomposed of sweetstuff. 

The constabulary are recruited from the sons of peasants and farmers. They are drilled, disciplined, well fed, well clothed, well paid, andshow themselves well conducted. During all the bad times, there was nota single case of a disaffected man, though every sort of inducement musthave been brought to bear on them. The prevailing characteristic of allranks has been the high sense of duty, so that they composed the mostmobile and the most effective corps in Europe. 

As detectives, they have, however, proved quite ineffective, because thepeasant has everywhere been too shrewd for them; 'yet the relativeposition of the police to the people, and the intimate connection withAmerica, marked it out as a force peculiarly adapted to the preventionand detection of crime committed in Ireland, but often inspired fromAmerica. ' So wrote one of the most experienced resident magistrates, Mr. Clifford Lloyd, afterwards Minister of the Interior in Egypt, andsubsequently Lieutenant Governor of the Mauritius and Consul atErzeroum, where he died at the age of forty-seven. 

The constabulary are enlisted without any consideration of creed, butwhen Sir Duncan MacGregor was at the head of the force he arranged thatof the five men in every police barrack, two should be Protestant, andthree Roman Catholic, or _vice-versa_. This check has subsequently beenswept away, by no means to the advantage of the service. 

Very recently the Inspector General, and the Assistant Inspector Generalretired, and their places were filled by an Englishman and an Irishman, neither of whom had been in the force, which gave rise to great andwell-founded dissatisfaction. One of the pair is a warm friend of myown, but that is no reason why I should approve of the appointment. 

While the bulk of the officers are Irish gentlemen, educated in Ireland, Englishmen are also to be found among them. Officers enter by nominationafter passing an examination designed to show that they are not'crammed, ' but the perversity of the examiners has always thwarted thisexcellent intention. That is like the admirable purpose of CabinetMinisters, bent on reforming their different departments, butdexterously 'blocked' by the permanent officials. 

Before the reduction commenced by Mr. Wyndham, the Constabulary numbered10, 679, and cost Ł1, 390, 917. In my opinion it will be found necessary inthe future, not only to keep the force up to its full strength, but tomaterially increase its number so soon as the Government becomes thesole landlord in Ireland, especially now that they are going to haveVolunteers in the country. 

The existence of this force merely means that landlords will be shot athalf price; so, for the sake of their own skins, the latter had betterget clear of the country before the recruits have had much musketryinstruction. The badness of the shooting saved many a landlord in theeighties, and if that is remedied, why they will be popped as easily asmy grandson knocks over rabbits. 

There is a story of an English tourist seeking for information about thedistressful country, he being at Tallaght near Dublin. 

He asked his carman whether there were many Fenians about. 

'A terrible lot, your honour, ' replied the fellow. 

'I suppose a thousand?' the tourist suggested, somewhat apprehensively. 

'That is so, and twenty thousand more, ' answered the carman withouthesitation. 

'Are they armed?' was the next question. 

'They are that, and finely into the bargain. '

'And are they prepared to come out?' the tourist being much perturbed, and thinking it would be his duty to write to the _Times_. 

'Prepared to come out in the morning, your honour. '

'And why don't they do so?' with English common sense. 

'Begorra, because maybe if they did, the constabulary would put them injail. '

So the constabulary have some value after all, in spite of the sneers ofHome Rule members in the House of Commons. 

Half a dozen Kerry priests screeched with laughter when I told them thatstory in the train, having met them on a journey to Farranfore. 

Here is another I also gave them on that occasion. 

A couple of policemen were discussing the state of Ireland once upon atime. 

Says Dan to Mick:--

'Sure we'll niver get peace and quiet in the blessed country until wefetch Oliver Cromwell up from hell to settle the unruly. '

Replies Mick to Dan:--

'Have done, you fool, isn't he a deal quieter where he is?'

Judge Keagh thought worse of his fellow countrymen than do other menwith less than his great experience, and although a Roman Catholic, hehad to be escorted by two constables wherever he went. 

He was told that he ought to be guarded by four policemen, because thetwo might be attacked. 

But he knew the man that said it wanted to make the protection moreconspicuous, so he replied:--

'Sir, I have the most implicit confidence in the invincible cowardice ofmy fellow countrymen. '

That recalls an observation of my own. 

On one occasion, a telegram was sent from the Chief Inspector ofConstabulary in Kerry to the Scotland Yard authorities to say there wasto be an attempt to murder me in London, and in consequence a gentlemanfrom the department for providing traffic directors in metropolitanstreets called at my house in Elvaston Place, to inquire what policeprotection I wanted. 

'None, ' said I, 'for if a man shoots me in London he'll be hung, andevery Irish scoundrel is careful of his own neck. It's altogetheranother matter in Ireland, where Mr. Gladstone has carefully providedthat he shall be tried by a jury, the majority of which are certain tobe land leaguers. '

I brought out the same idea on a more important occasion. 

Once, in Mr. Froude's house, Professor Max Müller--who was a greatadmirer of Mr. Gladstone--remarked that after all I had not much reasonto complain, because I had had plenty of police protection in Ireland. 

'I should prefer equal laws, ' said I. 

'What inequality of law have you to find fault with?' he asked. 

'Well, ' I replied, 'if a land leaguer shoots me in Ireland, he will betried by a jury of land leaguers. If I shoot one of them, I wouldrequire that I be tried by a jury of landlords, and if that be grantedI'll clear the road for myself of all suspicious characters, and ask forno more police protection than you require at Oxford. '

He subsided at that, and Froude laughed at him so heartily, that he hadnot another word to say on the subject all day. 

Did you ever hear the rhyme about moonlighting? It runs as follows:--

 'The difference betwixt moonlight and moonshine The people at last understand, For moonlight's the law of the League And moonshine is the law of the land. '

That would have clinched my argument beyond all dispute, but theexpressive poem was not written at that time. 

Reverting to the topics of this chapter, it is needless to observe thatthere is a bond of connection between constabulary and dispensarydoctors, for the latter are needed on many occasions to attend to thewounds of those just arrested. 

The dispensary doctors do not form a satisfactory feature of Irish life, simply because the farmers elect individuals out of friendship. 

A dispensary doctor had to be appointed at Farranfore, and I was mostanxious to get the best man for the position. So I proposed that thecandidates' papers should all be submitted to Sir Dominic Corragun, aRoman Catholic physician of high standing in Dublin. 

I could not even get a seconder to my motion, which therefore fellstillborn, and I wrote to Lord Kenmare that if Gull or Jenner had beensuggested, neither of them would have obtained three votes. 

Virtually the appointment of the dispensary doctor is vested in thedispensary Committee, which is a local body, usually consisting of oneor more guardians, and four or five specially elected ratepayers. In thesame way are chosen all the local sanitary authorities, who are ofcourse under the District Council. 

You remember that _Punch_ called the sanitary inspector the insanitaryspectre, but the beneficent climate of Ireland fortunately averts allthe evils his authority would not be able to arrest if it came to reallychecking filth. 

I remember the occasion of the election of another dispensary doctor, when I was curtly told that only a moonlighter could hope to beappointed. 

My reply was:--

'I suppose it is easier for him to poison people when he is drunk thanto shoot landlords when in an inebriated condition. '

I do know that a dispensary doctor not thirty miles from Killarney wasthrown out of his trap, because he drove the horse through his own frontdoor, when he was under the intoxicated impression he was entering hisstable yard. 

He broke his leg, and as there was no one to set it, he told his nephewto get a pail of plaster of Paris, and he himself would tell him how tomanage the operation. 

First they had a glass of whisky to fortify them for the ordeal, andthen another, and after that a third to drink good luck to the brokenleg. 

Finally, when they set about it, the nephew spilt the whole pail ofplaster of Paris over the bed in which his uncle lay, and then fell in adrunken stupor into the mess. There they both stayed all night untilthey were hacked out with a chisel in the morning. 

It is strange that the Irish, who are brimful of shrewd sense, use nomore discretion about appointing schoolmasters than dispensary doctors. 

The petty pedagogues, who are the Baboos of Ireland, are drawn from thesmall-farmer class. There is great competition among the incompetent toget lucrative posts in my native land: they probably appreciate theHibernian eccentricity of giving important positions to the men whoseclaims in any other country would never obtain a moment's consideration. 

There was a schoolmaster near Castleisland, who died of sparing the rodbut not sparing the potation. His family were anxious his nephew shouldbe appointed. 

As he was an utter ne'er-do-weel, the parish priest justly consideredhim unfit for the situation, and brought from a neighbouring county aschoolmaster highly recommended by the National Convention. 

They had a quiet way of expressing their feelings in Kerry in thosedays, and the moonlighters fired by night through the windows of everyone who sent their children to the nominee of the parish priest. 

The District Inspector thought he had better look into the matterhimself, for it was stated they had always fired high with the solepurpose of intimidating the occupants of the various cabins. 

However, when this inspecting authority found a bullet-hole in awindow-sill only three feet from the ground, he observed:--

'Well, that shot was meant to kill. '

One farmer standing by remarked:--

'It was not right to fire into a house where there were a lot of littlechildren. '

'Begorra, ' cried another, in a tone of virtuous indignation, 'thecareless fellows might have killed the poor pig!'

That was sworn before me. 

Here is another incident, also sworn to in my presence. 

I must explain that the first poor rate was in 1848, and half was madeup by local subscription, while the rent was added by the presentment ofthe county, and not paid out of the rates. It was in those days a commonpractice for dispensary doctors to put down on the list imaginarysubscriptions from friends, so as to draw more from the county. 

A young fellow, whose name had thus been used, fired into a Protestantdoctor's house, and threatened to murder everybody unless he was givensome money. 

He obtained half a crown, with which he bought a pint of whisky and amutton pie; but just as he was putting his teeth into the crust of thelatter, he paused in horror. 

'I was near being lost for ever, body and soul, ' says he, 'this beingFriday, and me so close on tasting meat. '

The woman in the place where he bought the provisions proposed to keepthe mutton pie for him until the following day. 

He thanked her civilly, and went away, but had the misfortune to mistakethe police barracks for the rival whisky store, and was promptlyarrested for threatening with intent to do injury. 

The next day he asked to be allowed to eat his pie, which is how thestory came out. 

The dispensaries are often worked with more attention to the pocket ofthose on the premises than is compatible with the principles of honesty, as recognised outside the legal and medical professions. At onedispensary in Kerry the Local Government Board was horrified at theconsumption of quinine--an expensive medicine. Indeed, so muchdisappeared that, if it had not been for the chronic aversion of anylow-born Irishman to outside applications of liquid, it might have beensurmised that the patients were taking quinine baths. The matter wasprivately put into the hands of the police, who within a week arrestedthe secretary getting out of a back window with a big bottle of quinine, which he meant to sell. 

That man, for the rest of his life, inveighed against the petty andmischievous interference with private industry tyrannically waged bypublic bodies. 

I should like to claim for Kerry the honour of being the land where thefollowing hoary chestnut originally was perpetrated, the exact localitybeing Castleisland. 

A landlord, who had returned in a fit of absent-mindedness to hisproperty after a sojourn in England, was condoling with a woman on thedeath of her husband, and asked:--

'What did he die of?'

'Wishna, then, did he not die a natural death, your honour, for therewas no doctor attending him?'

A not dissimilar story is that which concerns a Scotch laird who hadfallen very sick, so a specialist came from Edinburgh to assist thelocal murderer in diagnosing the symptoms. 

The canny patient felt sure he would not be told what was the matter, sohe bade his servant conceal himself behind the curtains in the roomwhere the doctors talked it over, and to repeat to him what they said. 

This is what the faithful retainer brought as tidings of comfort to thealarmed invalid:--

'Weel, sir, the two were very gloomy, one saying one thing and the otheranother; but after a while they cheered up and grew quite pleasant whenthey had decided that they would know all about it at the post-mortem. '

That recalls to my mind Sidney Smith's definition of a doctor as anindividual who put drugs of which he knew very little into a body ofwhich he knew considerably less. 

There is a rare lot of truth in some witticisms. 

For some illogical reason only known to my own brain--perhaps with thedesire of keeping up the fashion for inconsecutive and ramblingobservations common to all books of reminiscences--the foregoing storiessuggest to my mind the excuse made to me by a wary scoundrel for notpaying his rent. 

'I had an illegant little heifer as ever your honour cast an eye over, and who is a better judge than yourself, God bless you? But the Lord waspleased to take her to Himself, and it would be flat heresy for me notto say He is not as good a judge as your honour's self. '

There was an action brought against a veterinary surgeon for killing aman's horse. 

Lord Morris knew something of medicine, as he did of most things, andasked if the dose given would not have killed the devil himself. 

The vet. Drew himself up pompously, and said:--

'I never had the honour of attending that gentleman. '

'That's a pity, doctor, ' replied Morris, 'for he's alive still. '

The Government introduced into the House of Lords an additional bill forthe complication and confiscation of landed property in Ireland. 

Lord Morris said it reminded him of the bill a veterinary surgeon sentin to a friend of his, the last item of which ran:--

'To curing your grey mare till she died, 10s. 6d. '

Never was the Irish question more happily expressed than in his famousreply to a lady who asked him if he could account for disaffection inIreland towards the English. 

'What else can you expect, ma'am, when a quick-witted race is governedby an intensely stupid one?'

Lord Morris told many stories, but for a change, here is one told ofhim. 

A Belfast tourist was riding past Spiddal, and asked a countryman wholived there. 

'One Judge Morris, your honour; but he lives the best part of his timein Dublin. '

'Oh yes, ' says the other, 'that's Lord Chief Justice Morris. '

'The very dead spit of him, your honour; and I was told he draws athousand a year salary. '

'He has five thousand five hundred a year. '

'Ah, your honour, it's very hard to make me believe that. '

'Why don't you believe it?'

'Because when he's down here he passes my gate five days in the week, and I never saw the sign of liquor on him. '

Evidently the bigger salary the bigger profit to the whisky distillerwas the rustic's theory. 

I have forgotten how the story came to my ears, but I told it to LordMorris, who much appreciated it. 

Another Kerry story, not unlike one narrated earlier in this chapter, runs thiswise:--

Two men came to order a coffin for a mutual friend called TimO'Shaughnessy. 

Said the undertaker:--

'I am sorry to hear poor Tim is gone. He had a famous way with him ofdrinking whisky. What did he die of?'

Replied one of the men:--

'He is not dead yet at all; but the doctor says he will be before themorning; and sure he should know, for he knows what he gave him. '

Sometimes, however, the patient is quite as clever as the doctor. 

A physician in Dublin had a telephone put in his bedroom, and when hewas rung up about half-past one on a freezing wintry night, he told hiswife to answer it. 

She complied, and informed him:--

'It is Mr. Shamus O'Brien, and he wants you to come round at once. '

The physician knew this to be purely an imaginary case of illness, sonot wishing to be disturbed, said to her:--

'Tell him the doctor is out, and will not be home till morning. '

Unfortunately he spoke so near the telephone that his remark was audibleto the patient. So when the wife had duly delivered the message, theanswer came back:--

'If the man in your bed is a doctor, send him here. '

CHAPTER XIV

IRISH CHARACTERISTICS

It's the proudest boast of my life that I am an Irishman, and thecompliment which I have most appreciated in my time was being called'the poor man's friend, ' for I love Paddy dearly though I see hisfaults. Yes, perhaps one of the reasons why I love him is because I dosee the faults, for the errors of an Irishman are often almost as goodas the virtues of an Englishman, and are far more diverting into thebargain. You must not judge Paddy by the same standard as you apply toJohn. To begin with, he has not had the advantages, and secondly, there's an ingrained whimsicality, for which I would not exchange allthe solid imperfections of his neighbour across the Irish Channel. 

You would not judge all Scotland by Glasgow, and so you should not fallinto the error of judging all Ireland by Belfast. Kerry is the jewel ofIreland, and it is with Kerry that I have fortunately had most to do inmy life. 

Whilst I am alluding to the mistake of generalising, let me point outhow erroneous it is ever, historically, to talk of Ireland as onecountry. When Henry II. Annexed the whole land by a confiscation moreopen but not more criminal than that instigated by Mr. Gladstone, therewere four perfectly separate kingdoms in the island. Now there are fourprovinces which are quite distinct, and an Ulster man, or a Munster man, or a Connaught man, knows far more, as a rule, of England, or evenScotland, than he does of the other three provinces of his native isle. For one Ulster man who has been in Munster, three hundred have been toLiverpool or Greenock, and until lately there was no railway betweenConnaught and Munster, so that you had to go nearly up to Dublin to getfrom one to the other. 

There is much that is incomprehensible to the Englishman who comes amongus taking notes, and not the least is that no one wants hiscut-and-dried schemes of reforming what we do not wish to reform. As forconforming to his method and rule by vestry and county council autocracyin a methodical manner, it is utterly at variance with the nationaltemperament. Very often, too, the stranger falls a victim to theIrishman's love of fun, and goes back hopelessly 'spoofed' and quiteunaware what nonsense he is talking when he lays down the law on Irelandfar from that perplexing land. 

'Don't you want three acres and a cow?' asked an enthusiastic touristfrom Birmingham, soon after Mr. Jesse Collins had provided themusic-halls with the catch-phrase. 

'As for the cow I would not be after saying it would not be a comfort, but what would the pig want with so much land?' was the peasant's reply. 

And that suggests an opportunity to give as my opinion that the mostpractical measure England could take to benefit Ireland would be todrain the large bogs and so improve fuel. In some places the bogs arelikely to be exhausted, but in others there is plenty of turf (turf, OSaxon, is not the grass on which you play cricket or croquet, but is theHibernian for peat). Indeed, there is ample for all the needs of Irelandfor a hundred years to come, but it should not be used in the shamefullywasteful way so often noticeable. It is no excuse that the heat itcontains is not so great as in coal. 

If coal were to run out in England, to what a premium would turf rise inIreland!

Formerly turf could be picked up free, and even now it is very cheap, the chief expense to the consumer being the cost of transport from thebog to the turf rick behind the cabin. 

The mineral rights of Ireland are most deceptive. There are plenty ofindications of minerals, but they are of too poor a nature to warrantworking. 

Personally, I tried working coal-pits near Castleisland for threemonths, and silver lead was worked for six months near Tralee by acompany which was more successful in working its own way with thebankruptcy court. I firmly believe the reputed mineral wealth of Irelandto be greatly exaggerated, and should never advise any one to investmoney in a syndicate for its discovery. Smelting was largely perpetratedin olden times in Ireland, which entailed cutting down the oak forests, that then crossed the country, to obtain fuel, the ore being broughtfrom England. But the introduction of the coke process in the north ofEngland settled that industry, which was one of the earliest Irish onesdoomed to extinction. 

An Irish industry which as yet shows no sign of losing its commercialimportance is the blessed institution of matrimony, a holy thing whichin Ireland is particularly beneficial to the pockets of the priest, whopronounces the blessing, and to the distiller, who sells the whisky, inwhich the future of the happy pair is pledged. 

The matrimonial arrangements of Irish farmers in Kerry may sound queerto an English reader, but are the outcome of an innate, thoughunwritten, law that the whole family have a vested interest in theaffair. 

For example, when the family is growing up, the farm is handed over tothe eldest son, who gives the parents a small allowance during theirlives, while the fortune that he gets with his wife goes, not tohimself, but to provide for his younger brothers and sisters. 

Hence, if the eldest son were to marry the Venus de Medici with tenpounds less dowry than he could get with the ugliest wall-eyed female inthe neighbourhood, he would be considered as an enemy to all his family. 

A tenant of a neighbour of mine actually got married to a woman withouta penny, a thing unparalleled in my experience in Kerry, and his sisterpresently came to my wife for some assistance. 

My wife asked her:--

'Why does not your brother support you?'

And she was answered:--

'How could he support any one after bringing an empty woman to thehouse?'

There was a tenant of mine, paying about twenty-five pounds a year rent, who died, and his son came to me to have his name inscribed in the rentaccount. 

I asked him what will his father had made. 

He replied that he had left him the farm and its stock. 

'What's to become of your brother and sister?' says I. 

'They are to get whatever I draw, ' says he. 

'That means whatever you get with your wife?'

'That is so. '

'Well, suppose you marry a girl worth only twenty pounds, what wouldhappen then?'

'That would not do at all, ' very gravely. 

'Is there no limit put on the worth of your wife?'

'Oh, ' says he, 'I was valued at one hundred and sixty pounds. '

I found out afterwards he had one hundred and seventy with his wife. 

A tenant on the Callinafercy estate got married, and the mother-in-lawand the daughter-in-law did not agree. So the elder came to complain tothe landlord of the girl's conduct, and after copiously describingvarious delinquencies with the assistance of many invocations of thesaints, she wound up with:--

'And the worst of all, Mr. Marshall, is that she gives herself all theairs of a three hundred pound girl and she had but a hundred and fifty. '

Filial obedience in the matter of marriage is as uniform in theseclasses in Kerry as it is conspicuous by its absence in old Englishnovels and comedies. The sons never kick at the unions, the daughtersare never hauled weeping to the altar, while an elopement or a refusalto fulfil a matrimonial engagement would arouse the indignation of thewhole country side. 

Decidedly these marriages turn out better than the made-up marriages inFrance. I will go further, and seriously affirm my belief that themarriages in Kerry show a greater average of happiness than any whichcan be mentioned. To be sure there is the same dash after heiresses inKerry that you see in Mayfair, and the young farmer who is reallywell-to-do is as much pursued as the heir to an earldom by matchmakingmothers in Belgravia. But the subsequent results are much moreharmonious in Kerry, and though the landlord's advice is often asked tosettle financial difficulties in carrying out the matrimonial bargains, less frequently is he called upon to settle differences between man andwife. 

'Sure, he's well enough meaning, your honour, with what brains theBlessed Virgin could spare for him, ' is the sort of remark a wife willmake on behalf of her lazy husband. 

Fidelity is the rule; so is reasonable give and take, though each, beinghuman, likes to receive better than to give. And one thing whichimpresses a stranger is the rarity of illegitimate children out of thetowns. This is, of course, partly due to the influence of the priests, but partly also to the innate purity of the Irish character, as well asby the standard of respectability:--

'Ah, he's a strong man, ' you will hear said of So-and-So. 

'How do you prove that?' says I. 

'Why, has he not his farm, and his family with one son a priest, and onedaughter in a convent, and he with a bull for his own cows?'

Could you want more to get him on the County Council if he has noconscience and a convivial taste in the matter of whisky?

There can be no doubt that the Irish take better care of their childrenthan the parents of similar position in either England or Scotland. Cases of cruelty, which so constantly disfigure the police courts inboth the latter countries, are very rarely heard in the sister isle. 

It is true that in many cases they cannot do much for their offspring, but what little they are able to do is done with a good will andungrudgingly. 

I remember a Saharan explorer telling me that in the desert he cameacross some tribe, stark naked, utterly poor, but all on apparentlyaffectionate terms. He was much impressed with the love shown by thechildren of all ages for their parents, and inquired what the latter didto inspire such enviable emotion. 

'We give them a handful of dates, when there are any. '

It was apparently their sole form of sustenance. 

The Irishman is very good to his wife, although the courting is a matterof business, as I have shown. Wife-beating and even more ignoble formsof marital cruelty are almost unknown. 

This is surely a big national asset. 

Furthermore, the Irish are a very moral people; and this in spite of theclose proximity and confinement necessitated by the crowded condition ofmany cabins. 

I was going to add that the light food may have something to say tothis, but as the Irish are not remarkable for their small families, thiswould be an unwarrantable aspersion. 

Of course in the big towns there are women of no importance, and Dublinhas always borne rather a lively reputation in this respect, though thatin no way affects the general high standard of morality. 

The climate of the country, despite the moisture, is one conducive togood health, owing to the absence of any extreme vicissitudes. 

It may be asked why, considering the overcrowding and insanitaryconditions of living in the miserable cabins, there is not more disease, and my reply is that the peat which is burnt is so healthy as to act asa disinfectant. 

Indigestion, like lunacy, is, however, largely on the increase. 

Nearly any old woman--or old man for the matter of that--as well as asad majority of younger people, will tell you:--

'I have a pain in the stomach, ' with the accent on the second syllableof the locality. 

This is due to excessive consumption of tea. 

Nearly twenty times as much tea must be drunk now in Kerry as in theearly sixties, and so far as I can recollect tea was unknown, not onlyin the cabins but among the farmers until after the famine. 

Fairly good tea is obtained, for the Irish will never buy tea unlessthey are asked a high price, and for that price they usually, owing tocompetition, obtain an article not too perniciously adulterated. 

What is highly injurious is the method of making the tea. 

A lot is thrown into the pot on the fire in the cabin in the morning, and there it stands simmering all day long, that those who want it mayhelp themselves. 

This is in sharp contrast to the method employed by Dr. Barter, thefamous hydropathic physician at Cork, one of the cleverest men I evermet and one of the very few who never permitted medicine under anycircumstances, relying on water, packing, and Turkish baths, with strictattention to diet. 

He used to make tea by putting half a teaspoonful into a wire strainerwhich he held over his cup, and pouring boiling water upon the leaves, the contents of his cup became a pale yellow, to which he added a littlemilk and instantly drank it off, the whole process lasting but a fewseconds. I remember he equally disapproved of the Russian method ofdrinking tea in a glass with lemon, of the fashionable way of lettingthe water 'stand off the boil' upon the leaves in a teapot, and of theHibernian stewing arrangement alluded to above. 

Personally I regard all hydros as so many emporiums of disease, anopinion in which I am singular, but that does not convince me I amwrong. 

A bailiff once went to St. Ann's Hydro to serve a writ, and he told meafterwards that he served it on his victim in a Turkish bath, remarking:--

'And your heart would have melted within your honour in pity for thepoor creature not having a pocket to put the document in. '

Which observation recalls to my mind the story of a gentleman in aTurkish bath asking a friend to dinner, and saying:--

'Don't mind dressing; come just as you are. '

Another misunderstood answer was that of the absent-minded man whoentered a hansom and began to read a paper. 

'Where to?' at last cabby asked laconically. 

'Drive to the usual place. '

'I'm afraid I have too much on the slate there, sir, unless you pay myfooting. '

'Oh, go to hell, ' retorted the other in a rage. 

'It's outside the radius, sir, and it will be a steep pull for my oldhorse after we've dropped you. '

The light-heartedness of the Celt is another feature which strikes theleast observant stranger. 

An Irishman has been described as a man who confided his soul to thepriest, and his body to the British Government, whilst he holds himselfdevoid of any vestige of responsibility for the care of either. 

Here is another tale, illustrative of his contentment. 

A philosopher, in search of happiness, was told by a wise man that if hegot the shirt of a perfectly happy man and put it on, he would himselfbecome happy. 

The philosopher wandered over the world, but could find no man whosehappiness had not some flaw, until he fell in with an Irishman; withwhom he promptly began to bargain for his shirt, only to find he had notone to his back. 

From philosophy to the deuce is not a big stride, according to the viewof those folk who jibe at political economy and all the abstract ofvirtues and governments. So, on the tail of their fancy, I am remindedof another story about the devil--a very large number of Irish storiesare connected with him, because in a very special sense he is theunauthorised patron saint of the sinners of the country, and he has hadfar too much to say to its government into the bargain. 

An Englishman, in the witless way in which Saxons do address Irishmen, asked a labourer by the wayside:--

'If the devil came by, do you think he would take me or you?'

The labourer never hesitated, but replied:--

'He'd take me, your honour. '

'Why do you say that?'

'Oh, he would, ' says he, 'because he's sure of your honour at any time. '

The Irishman is not so black as he may seem to the Saxon, who reads withdisgust the horrors that mar the beauty of the Emerald Isle, and Ishould say that his finest trait is patience under adversity. No nation, for example, could have more calmly endured the terrible sufferings ofthe famine, more especially as the high-strung nerves of the Celt renderhim physically and mentally the very reverse of a stoic. 

Again, in no other nation are the family ties closer. 

The first thought of those who emigrate to America is to remit money tothe old folk in the cabin at home. So soon as the emigrants haveobtained a reasonable degree of comfort they will send home the passagemoney to pay for bringing out younger brothers or sisters to them. 

Did you ever hear the story of the homesick Kerry undergraduate atOxford, at his first construe with his tutor, translating _contiguareomnes_ as 'all of them County Kerry men'?

It was a true home touch, though not exactly a classical reading of thepassage. 

In the same way, in my boyish days at Dingle, we all of us firmlybelieved that King John had asked in what part of Kerry Ireland was. That question was our local Magna Charta, though what the origin of thetradition was I have no idea. 

But then things do differ according to the point of view, and ours ofhistory was not stranger than many others of far more importance. 

As an example of lack of comprehension I would cite the followingincident. 

An English gentleman was shooting grouse in Ireland. He got very fewbirds, and said to the keeper:--

'Why, these actually cost me a pound apiece. '

'Begorra, your honour, it's lucky there are not more of them, ' was theunexpected answer. 

This allusion to sport reminds me of the Frenchman's description ofhunting in Ireland, which was to the effect that about thirty horsemenand sixty dogs chased a wretched little animal ten miles, which resultedin seven casualties, and when they caught the poor beast not one of themwould eat him. 

The French do not always appreciate our institutions. One of themlanding at Queenstown in the middle of the day asked if there wasanything he could amuse himself with between then and dinner-time. 

'Certainly, ' said the waiter; 'which would you like, wine or spirits?'

By way of amusing the reader, before going any further, I will give hima chance of reading a genuine, but unique testament in which I figured, and which is not a bit more queer than many which have been as formallyproved. 

'I Robert Shanahan in my last will and testament do make my wifeMargaret Shanahan Manager or guardian over my farm and means providedshe remains unmarried if she do not I bequeath to her 2 shillings andsixpence I leave the farm to my son Thomas Shanahan provided he conductshimself if not I leave the farm to my son Robert Shanahan I also wishthat there should be a provision made for the rest of the family out ofthe farm according as the following Executors which I appoint may thinkfit Mr. Hussey Esq. Revd. Brusnan P. P. And James Casey of Gorneybee. Given under my heand this 7th day of February 1872. 

 his

 ROBERT X SHANAHAN. 

 mark

Witnessed by JOHN O'BRIEN. JEREMIAH CONNOR. '

I have a few tales to tell of Kerry landlords, a race who would havefurnished Lever with a worthy theme, men as humorous as they are brave, as diverting as they can stand, loyal to the Crown despite muchdisparagement, and proud to be Irishmen, though so unappreciated by thepaid agitators and their weak tools. 

However, as I wish to be on good terms with all my neighbours in thisworld, and with the ghosts of the departed ones when I meet them in thenext, I am not going to give many names or rub up susceptibilities. 

Of Kerry landlords, Lord Kenmare naturally suggests himself to be firstmentioned. He has been somewhat unjustly attacked more than once aboutthe condition of Killarney as though the town was his private property. As a matter of fact, he is utterly powerless there, as it was all leasedaway for five hundred years by his grandfather. About the town thefollowing may be worth telling:--

A very neat plan was drawn up for improving it, which included a gatewaybetween every double block of houses to lead down to the stables andgarden, but as it was not thought necessary to put a subletting clauseinto the lease, the actual consequence was that all these passages wereconverted into filthy lanes. Outside the town Lord Kenmare has builtsome nice cottages, but within its confines he could effect nothing. 

To show you how short-lived is Irish gratitude, ponder over this:--

When Mr. Daniel O'Connell, son of the great Dan, stood for West Kerry asa Unionist, he was warned by the police officer that he could not beanswerable for his life if he came into Cahirciveen, for he had onlytwenty constables to protect him; and his wife--a most charmingwoman--when driving through the town was surrounded by an insulting mob, members of which actually spat in her face. 

That reminds me of a similar experience which befell the wife of Mr. Cavanagh, the man without arms and legs, who, until denounced by theLand League, was exceptionally popular. 

Mrs. Cavanagh was walking along the road in Carlow carrying broth andwine to a poor sick woman, when she found herself the target for anumber of stones and had to run for her life amid a shower of missiles. 

Despite his exceptional infirmities Mr. Cavanagh could do almostanything. He used to ride most pluckily to hounds, strapped on to hissaddle. On one occasion the saddle turned under him, and the horsetrotted back to the stable-yard, with his master hanging under him, hishair sweeping the ground, bleeding profusely; he merely cursed the groomwith emphatic volubility, had himself more safely readjusted, and thenrode out once more. 

He always wore pink when hunting. One day a pretty child of ten yearsold was out with her groom, who followed the scent so ardently, that heforgot all about his charge, who was left behind, and finding herselflost in a wood, began to cry. 

Suddenly there swooped out on a very big horse, the armless and leglessfigure of Cavanagh in his flaming coat, and seeing her predicament, heseized her rein somehow--she never seems quite clear how--saying:--

'Don't be frightened, little girl, for I know who you are, and will takecare of you. '

He was as good as his word, but the high-strung, sensitive child, sosoon as she was in her mother's embrace, went from one fit of hystericsto another, crying:--

'Oh, mummy, I've seen the devil, I've seen the devil. '

In after years they became great friends, and he often dined with herafter she married and settled in London. 

Reverting to Lord Kenmare, the following story, which in another versionrecently won a railway story competition in some newspaper, reallypertains to his son Lord Castlerosse. 

On a line in Kerry there is a sharp curve overhanging the sea. An oldwoman in a great state of nervous agitation was bundled at the lastmoment into a first-class compartment. 

Lord Castlerosse, the only passenger in the compartment, by way ofrelieving her obvious agitation, tried to calm her by telling her shecould change at the next station. 

'Is it me that can be aisy, ' she replied, 'when it's my Pat is drivingthe engine, and him having a dhrop taken, and saying he'll take us ashpin round the Head?'

After all, to my mind, for sheer humour of a quiet sort, nothing beatsthe observation of the late Sir John Godfrey, who never got up beforeone in the day, and invariably breakfasted when his family were havinglunch. Being asked one day to account for this rather inconvenienthabit, he replied:--

'The fact is, I sleep very slow. '

I commend this to every sluggard who wants an excuse to resume hisslumbers when awakened too soon. 

There was a gentleman who had rather a red nose, and some one remarkedthat it was an expensive piece of painting, to which some one elsesignificantly added, that it was not a water-colour. 

'No, ' said Sir John, 'it was done in distemper. '

One night a landlord in Kerry, who shall be nameless, though he haspassed over to the great majority, went to bed without having muchknowledge how he got there. 

Two of his sons crept to the neighbouring town, unscrewed the signoutside the inn, and put it at the end of their parent's bed. 

When he awoke, he looked at the sign for some time in a bewildered way. Then he observed aloud:--

'I thought I went to sleep in my own bed, but I'm d----d if I have notwoke in the middle of the street. '

A certain roystering gentleman named Jack Ray got drunk and fell asleepin the woods of Kilcoleman. Some of the Godfrey boys, seeing himprostrate and with foam on his lips, ran to summon their father, sayingto him:--

'There's a man dead in the wood. '

Sir William hastened to the spot, and having put on his glasses to get aview of the corpse, observed:--

'Come away, my boys, this man dies once a week. '

Another Kerry landlord, who was also a baronet, dealt with the NationalBank, the local manager of which was an arrant snob, who loved a title, and bored everybody with his pretended intimacy with the impecuniousbaronet. But at last even his patience was exhausted, and he sent thesquire a pretty stiff letter about the arrears due. 

The other received the letter at breakfast, and showed it to his sonjust come down from a University, who whistled and ejaculated:--

'O tempora! O mores!'

His father instantly retorted:--

'You get me the temporary, and I'll promptly see we have more ease. '

In the bad times, an old woman came into the office at Tralee to pay herrent. Mr. Francis Denny was in a real bad humour with somebody else whohad defaulted, and he was raging along in a manner qualified to displayhis intimate acquaintance with the florid embellishments of thelanguage. The old woman listened with evident admiration for some time. At last she ejaculated:--

'Ah, the nate little man. '

And with that slipped out, without settling her account. 

Mr. Francis Denny has the misfortune to be rather lame, and one dayanother old woman, who liked him, observed:--

'If he had two sound legs under him, there'd be no holding him inTralee, but he'd be up at the Castle setting the Lord Lieutenant rightin his many errors, not to mention going over to London to give theQueen herself a bit of his mind. '

In the bad times, one lady was left in her Kerry residence with her babyboy and a pack of maidservants, her husband having been called over toEngland. 

She had sixty pounds of gold in her bedroom, and one night a housemaidrushed in to say a party of moonlighters were in the house. 

The lady threw a sovereign and some silver on to the dressing-table, andhid the rest under her mattress. 

In came the masked scoundrels asking for gold, and when she pointed tothe money that was visible, one replied that it was not enough. 

'Very well, ' she said, 'give me your name and I'll write you a cheque. '

On that they left precipitately, to her intense relief. 

All moonlighters calculated upon the terrorism their appearance wouldcause, and if this was apparently conspicuous by its absence they werenonplussed, because they never felt over secure in their own hearts atthe best of times, and grew frightened directly others were notfrightened by them. 

In all moonlighting affrays no one scoundrel ever became personallyconspicuous as a leader, and all the wisest leaders, such as Stephens, Tynan, and Parnell, shrouded their movements in mystery. Fenianism inIreland since Emmett has never had one capable leader possessing thephysical courage to show himself in the forefront on all occasions. 

On the other hand, it is a singular fact that nearly every general ofnote in the army of the United Kingdom, since the time of Marlborough, has come from Ireland. The Duke of Wellington was born in County Meath, Lord Gough in Tipperary, Lord Wolseley in County Carlow, Lord Roberts inWaterford, Sir George White in Antrim, General French in Roscommon, andLord Kitchener in Kerry. 

The attempts of the English Government to manufacture an English generalin the South African war were a miserable fiasco. They only producedone, Sir Charles Tucker, and he did his best to atone for the accidentof his English birth by marrying a Kerry lady. 

I had the pleasure of meeting Sir Redvers Buller in Killarney, and afterhe had been there a couple of days he proceeded to describe Kerry to me, who had been managing one fifth of it for several years. Hisagricultural reforms would have been as drastic as they were ludicroushad any one attempted to carry them out, but when expatiating on them tome, he was not even aware that there was any difference between anEnglish and an Irish acre. When I heard that he was taking charge of thewhole army in South Africa, I mentioned that as he had been unable tocommand three hundred constabulary in Kerry, I was sceptical of hisability to manage the British army. He was without exception the mostself-sufficient soldier I ever met, and his subsequent career has notmade me change my view. 

Here is a soldier story which is mighty illustrative of Irish traits. 

A peasant's son in Limerick enlisted in the militia for a month'straining, for which he received a bounty of three pounds. With part ofthis money he bought a pig and gave it to his father to feed up. Whenthe pig was fattened, the father sold it and declined to give him theprice. So the son was seen by the police to take his father by thethroat, saying:--

'Bad luck to you, old reprobate, do you want to deprive me of my pigthat I risked my life for in the British Army?'

Everywhere I like to slip into this book instances of the injuriessuffered by Irish landlords, so here is another case _ŕ propos desbottes_, if you will forgive it. 

The Knight of Kerry let nine acres of land to a tenant for a rent offorty-five pounds. Having expended a large sum of money in roadmakingand fences, at the tenant's request, he also borrowed thirty-five poundsto build a small house for which he has to pay thirty-five shillings perannum. The commissioners cut down the rent so heavily, that it hasresulted in the landlord having to pay five shillings a year for thepleasure of looking at the man in occupation of his land. 

Reverting to my reminiscences--or rather to what are for myself lessinteresting portions, for I am a land agent by profession and ananecdotist only by habit--I remember that an Englishman subsequently aPasha commanded the coastguard at Dingle in 1856, and then had anencounter with a local Justice of the Peace in which he came off secondbest. 

Captain ---- occupied the Grove demesne. The J. P. , who had been a Scotchmilitia officer, had been in the habit of shooting crows over thedemesne, and continued to enjoy the sport, to which the Captain stronglyobjected. After an angry correspondence the J. P. Sent a challenge, whichthe other did not seem to stomach, for he sent an apology by asubordinate with full permission to continue the immolation of thebirds. If a cruiser had to capitulate to this bold blockade runner, theCaptain himself had to endure a similar humiliation at the hands of anindignant Kerry man, though he was very popular in Dingle. 

There is nothing pusillanimous about the Irishman, except when in coldblood he was expected to attack an agent, or landlord, or policeman, armed to the teeth. In such cases, he remembered that his parents, bythe blessing of the Holy Virgin, had endowed him with two legs, and onlyone skin, which latter must therefore be saved by the discretionaryemployment of the former. 

In other cases he is very brave, especially in verbal encounters. Fighting is in his blood. That is what makes the Irish soldier the bestin the world, and that was why he used to revel in the faction fights. As a paternal Government now prevents the breaking of heads, at allevents on a wholesale scale, the pugnacious instincts of the nation haveto be gratified by litigation, and certainly there never was such alitigious race in history as the contemporary Ireland. 

I know of a case on the Callinafercy estate, where a widow spent fiftypounds 'in getting the law of' a neighbour whose donkey had browsed onher side of a hedge. She took the case to the assizes, and when thejudge heard Mr. Leeson Marshall was her landlord, he said:--

'Let him decide it. He's a barrister himself, and can judge far betterthan I could on such a subject. '

To this there are literally hundreds of parallels every year. Readers of_La Terre_ will remember how much of the funds went into the hands ofthe lawyer who thrived on the animosities of the family, and that sortof thing is constantly reduplicated in Kerry. 

'I'd sell my last cow to appeal on a point of law, ' I once heard aKillorgin farmer say; and that is typical of all the lower classes inthe South and West. 

As for the solicitors, I am not going to say a word about them, good orbad: there are men no doubt worthy of either epithet in a professionthat preys on the troubles of other folk. But I will tell one very briefstory on the topic. 

Outside the Four Courts, a poor woman stopped Daniel O'Connell, saying:--

'If you please, your honour, will you direct me to an honest attorney?'

The Liberator pushed back his wig and scratched his head. 

'Well now, you beat me entirely, ma'am, ' was his answer. 

He had more experience than me, being one. 

Talking of the Four Courts reminds me of Chief Baron Guillamore, who hadas much wit as will provoke 'laughter in court, ' and a trifle over thatinfinitesimal quantity as well. 

A new Act of Parliament had been passed to prevent people from stealingtimber. A stupid juryman asked if he could prosecute a man under thatact for stealing turnips. 

'Certainly not, unless they are very sticky, ' retorted the judge. 

His brother was a magistrate, and committed a barrister in pettysessions for contempt of court. An action was brought against him, butthe Chief Baron raised so many legal exceptions, that it had finally tobe abandoned through the fraternal law-moulding. This action was pendingin the civil court, when a lawyer was very impertinent to the ChiefBaron in the criminal. Instead of committing him, the Chief Baron saidvery quietly:--

'If you do not keep quiet, I shall send to the next Court for mybrother. '

Another judge had applied for shares in a company of which a friend ofhis was secretary. Meeting him in Sackville Street, he stopped him toinquire what would be the paid-up capital of the concern. 

The other forgot whom he was addressing, and blurted out the truth byreplying:--

'Well, I really cannot tell you just yet, but the cheques are coming infast. '

The judge withdrew his application by the next post, and confidentlyexpected to see his friend in the dock. I believe in less than sixmonths he was not disappointed. 

The poorer class in Ireland do not appear to be business-like in theordinary sense, however much they may develop commercial instincts afteremigrating. It is to promote the latent capacity obviously within theirpower that creameries and other assisted promotions have been started invarious parts of the country, sometimes with great success. Sir HoracePlunkett and others have dealt with all this in the most serious spirit. I prefer to allude to it, and add one anecdote. 

A lady asked a respectable old woman how her son was getting on asmanager of the creamery, and the reply came after the followingfashion:--

'Whisna the poor man and all the trouble he has, and him never able tomake the butter and the books scoromund, ' which, being translated, is'correspond. '

Another example I can cite of the difficulty in getting people to puttheir intelligence to practical use in the south is to this effect:--

There was a certain widdy woman in a neighbouring parish who was makinggreat lamentation over her 'pitaties' to the priest, and in consequencehe lent her a machine for the purpose of spraying them. She professedthe profoundest gratitude as well as interest in the implement, but thetask speedily became too big an effort, for she subsequently informed methat she had sprayed 'half the field to plase his Rivirence, but leftthe rest to God. '

And that is the kind of negative piety which is distinctly acharacteristic Irish trait. 

CHAPTER XV

LORD-LIEUTENANTS AND CHIEF SECRETARIES

Any Irishman who has reached the shady side of threescore years and tenmust remember many Lord-Lieutenants--the pompously visible symbols ofmuch vacillating misdirection. 

To analyse them would be the work of an historian, to criticise would besuperfluous. They have been so many Malvolios, all alike anxious to winthe favour of that capricious Lady Olivia Erin, and not one of them hassucceeded, though several have merited better fortune than they met withon Irish soil. 

The first Lord-Lieutenant I personally met was Lord Carlisle. 

He was a gentleman, but not otherwise remarkable. He had come into theGovernment on the resignation of the Peelites, and his popularity inIreland was greater than any other holder of the post in the century, possibly owing to his negative qualities, and also to a charm of mannermore effusive than usual among Englishmen. 

He had a habit of dropping his state, and going about Dublin, if notlike Haroun Alraschid, at least with the independence of men in lessaugust positions. 

On one occasion, needing some local information, he went to see the LordMayor of Dublin, but finding him out, was given the address of analderman who could tell him what he wanted to know. 

The alderman was not in either, but his wife was, and begged him to stopto lunch, which was just being served. 

Lord Carlisle told her he hardly ever ate lunch, and was not in theleast hungry. 

But under pressure he sat down to the meal, and got on very well withit, whereat the lady remarked:--

'You see, your Excellency, eating is like scratching: when you oncebegin it is hard to stop. '

His predecessor, Lord Clarendon, had been in office when Lord JohnRussell, the Prime Minister, urged on the House of Commons a bill forthe abolition of the Lord-Lieutenancy. The great point that he made wasthat the Chief Secretary might become a mayor of the viceregal palace, athing that has now long been the case, for the Lord-Lieutenant has to bea plutocrat of high descent, and the Chief Secretary is the virtualadministrator of Ireland--a thing unknown, however, until the advent ofMr. Foster. The second reading was carried by a majority of over ahundred and fifty, but it was then dropped. 

The story went that the Duke of Wellington had suggested to PrinceAlbert the possible diminution of respect for the Crown in Irelandwithout a visible representative, and the Teutonic mind could not enduresuch a notion. 

Lord Clarendon upheld the dignity of his position, though he was likedby neither party in Ireland. He is the only Lord-Lieutenant who everadministered sharp discipline to the Orangemen--who regard their loyaltyas permitting them a good deal of licence--for he removed the name oftheir leader, Lord Roden, from the Commission of the Peace because heencouraged a turbulent procession at Dolly's Brae. With his pompousmanner he made a very Brummagem monarch, quite indifferent to hisunpopularity. As a matter of fact, some allege that all Lord-Lieutenantsare hated by the disloyal section of the populace, and if they gothrough the farce of currying popularity, they can only do so by largelypatronising about a dozen shopkeepers, who eventually curse because yetmore has not been spent. But this is altogether too limited to be true. 

Lord Kimberley followed Lord Carlisle. In those days he was LordWodehouse, and the Fenians used to issue mock proclamations, in ridiculeof his, signed 'Woodlouse. ' He was an experienced parliamentarian--a manwho held office for many years, and worked conscientiously, according tohis lights. 

In Ireland he always appeared to be a naturalist, perplexed at notunderstanding the species among which his lot was for the time cast. 

His mother was subsequently married to Mr. Crosbie Moore, and she ranaway with Colonel Fitz-Gibbon, afterwards Lord Clare. 

Mr. Crosbie Moore had not much sense of humour, as the following talewill show. 

He was presiding at Ballyporeen Petty Sessions, when a village tailorwas summoned for having his pig wandering on the road. 

The fellow pleaded that it was due to great curiosity on the part of thepig, who saw some constabulary passing by, and rushed out to see whatthey were like. 

He made this explanation in such humorous fashion that most of themagistrates were for letting him off; but Mr. Crosbie Moore said it wasscandalous that they had directed the police to summon people on thatvery ground, and they wanted to acquit the culprit because he had made ajoke. 

The rest of the Bench had to acquiesce, and the tailor was fined oneshilling. 

He paid his shilling, and said:--

'I have no blame to you at all, gentlemen, except to Mr. Crosbie Moore;and, indeed, if he reflected, he should have known that no live mancould keep a woman or a pig in the house when she wanted to be off. '

A subscription raised for him outside the Court realised twenty-threeshillings. 

Tradition goes that when Lord Kimberley, Lord Carlingford, and LordGranville were all in Mr. Gladstone's Cabinet, Mr. Chamberlain--then atthe Board of Trade--in a moment of vexation called them 'Gladstone'sgrannies, ' and if the phrase is not his, it most certainly was apt andtruthful. 

Lord Kimberley was known as 'Pussy' among a gang of disrespectfulsubordinates. He really did as little to earn respect as he did toforfeit it; in fact he was a pre-eminently respectable mediocrity of thekind that, towards the close of the mid-Victorian period, clung likebarnacles to office, and he was a Whig during the period that Whiggismwas growing obsolete. 

The Duke of Abercorn certainly had no tendencies towards the lavishextravagance by which a modern Lord-Lieutenant has to pay his footing. Ashort time before he was chosen he had claimed the Dukedom ofChatelherault in France, and was known in consequence among themalcontents as the 'French Frog. ' His wife was the daughter of one Dukeof Bedford, and when another came to stay at the viceregal, it was for atime called the 'Dukeries. ' The A. D. C. 's, who were particularlygood-looking, were at once known as the 'Duckeries. '

The Duke of Marlborough settled down well to his work. He was franklythe friend of the landlords, and did his best for them. But he broughtno English politicians in his train; he never thought he could settleevery Irish question after he had smoked a pipe over it; and he wasnever inaccessible. 

He came on a visit to Muckross when Sir Ivor Guest had the shooting, andI dined there to meet him. He visited Killarney on several occasions, and on each of them I had long talks with him. I always thought him apainstaking, well-meaning man. 

Lord Cowper was an honest nonentity who left the country in disgustbecause he was not backed up by the Government. Several modernfigureheads would be very much surprised at any Government expectingthem to do more than 'understudy Royalty. ' But Cowper thought himself adiplomatist; was fond of authoritatively laying down the law oncontinental affairs, as though he had the refusal of the Foreign Officein his pocket; and felt he ought to have as much support as Palmerstonobtained from the various Cabinets he burdened with European embroglios. 

However, Lord Spencer, on being reappointed for a second term, took upthe thankless task at an especially black moment. He was as brave as alion; and if his red beard gained him the nickname of 'Rufus, ' the RedViceroy was as fearless as though his life were absolutely secure, instead of depending wholly on the vigilance of those surrounding him. 

We all admired Lord Spencer for his firmness; but this was soondiscovered to be due to the fact that he absolutely followed the sageadvice of Sir Edward Sullivan, the Lord Chancellor, and after the deathof the latter, Lord Spencer's weakness was quite as remarkable as hisprevious firmness. 

He was seen on one occasion with his hands pressing his back. 

Said one man:--

'I fear his Excellency has lumbago. '

'Not at all, ' replied his friend; 'he is feeling for his backbone. '

The state of Westmeath was really the worst feature of the period of hisrule, yet Lord Spenser was in the country all the while, and allowedmatters to degenerate with his eyes open. 

He rode hard to hounds, in spite of countless threats, and might havehad a less uncomfortable time had the head of the Constabulary been asthoroughly capable as his subordinates. 

Lord Carnarvon very nearly ruined the Government by his communicationswith Mr. Parnell. He meant well, and struck out a patriotic line of hisown, which failed because it was made in absolute ignorance of the Irishcharacter. But he never intended to involve his colleagues, althoughnumbers of people chose to regard him as a Tory Home Ruler. His previousaction in resigning the Secretaryship of the Colonies in Lord Derby'sthird administration, owing to a difference of opinion on parliamentaryreform, and his subsequent resignation because he disapproved of LordBeaconsfield's Eastern action in 1878, showed him to be a man of markedand fearless opinions. Lord Salisbury ought to have known that he wasthrusting a brand into the fire when he sent him to be the officialbellows-blower of the Hibernian pot. 

Lord Aberdeen will always be remembered as the husband of his wife. LadyAberdeen was a more ardent Home Ruler than even her brother, LordTweedmouth. On one occasion Lord Morris was next her at dinner, and shesaid she supposed the majority of people in Ireland were in favour ofHome Rule. 

'Indeed, then, with the exception of yourself and the waiters, there'snot one in the room, ' was his answer. 

'Of course, not in the Castle, ' she replied with dignity; 'but in yourprofession, and when you are on circuit, surely you must meet a goodmany?'

'Occasionally--in the dock, ' he drily retorted, after which shediscreetly dropped the subject. 

Lord Aberdeen was most exemplary during his brief tenure of office, andcertainly it was not in his time that the folk christened the royal boxat the theatre the 'loose box, ' in allusion to the rather dubiousEnglish guests of the vivacious viceroy. 

Lord Londonderry and Lord Zetland may be both briefly bracketed togetheras having done their duty admirably in times less out of joint thanthose of their predecessors. Lord Londonderry always drank Irish whiskyhimself, and recommended it to his guests as a capital beverage--a thingwhich the licensed victuallers did not mind mentioning to Paddy and Mickwhen they were having a drop, despite their vaunted contempt of all at'the Castle. '

No other Lord-Lieutenant ever had such a mournful experience as LordHoughton. Son of Monckton Milnes, the 'cool of the evening, ' he neededhis father's temperament to enable him to endure the boycott which Irishsociety inflicted on him as the representative of the Home Ruledisruption policy. With no class did he go down, and on a crowdedmarket-day in Tralee not a hat was raised to him. 

One of his A. D. C. 's was subsequently on the veldt, and when asked if itwas not lonely, he replied:--

'Not more than Dublin Castle, when Houghton was the king. '

On one occasion some people were officially commanded to dine. Not acarriage was to be seen as they drove up to the Viceregal Lodge, so thegentleman told his coachman to drive round the Phoenix Park, as theymust be too early. There was still no sign of any gathering as theyagain approached the official residence, and when they entered theyfound they were the only guests, and the infuriated Lord Houghton, aswell as all his household had been kept waiting twenty minutes by thishapless pair. 

Another story, which was much enjoyed in Ireland as showing thepomposity of his Excellency, may be recalled. Whether true it is nowdifficult to say, but there is no doubt that the tale was started amongthe very house-party who were at Carton at the time. 

The beautiful _châtelaine_, the lovely Duchess of Leinster, was walkingthrough the fields one Sunday afternoon with Lord Houghton. 

They came to a gate, which he opened, but to her astonishment proceededto walk through it first himself. 

The indignant Duchess haughtily remarked:--

'The Prince of Wales would not think of passing through a gate beforeme. '

'That may be; but I represent the Queen, ' replied Lord Houghton, withunruffled imperturbability. 

Lord Cadogan and Lord Dudley come so absolutely into contemporaryhistory that on them nothing can here be said, except that theirmunificence has rendered it impossible for any peer of moderate privatemeans to hold the office. 

In sober truth, however, the administration of Government really restswith the Chief Secretary in recent times, although it was not so beforethe advent of Mr. Foster. Men like Lord Naas, Sir Robert Peel theyounger, and Mr. Chichester Fortescue--afterwards Lord Carlingford--weremere official cyphers, but after Mr. Gladstone's 1880 ministry this hasnever been the case. 

Of Sir Robert Peel it was wittily said that when Chief Secretary he wentthrough the country on an outside car, which made him take a one-sidedview of the Irish question. 

Lord Morris said to an inquiring Scottish M. P. :--

'Did you ever know a Scottish Secretary who was not Scottish, or anIrish Secretary who was Irish?'

'No, ' said the Scotsman. 

'Well, go home and moralise over that as a possible solution of someIrish difficulties, for may be, if an Irishman was sent over, byaccident, to be Chief Secretary, the official would not fall into themistake of trying to reconcile the irerconcilable. '

And to my mind Lord Morris had the last word in every sense. 

Mr. W. E. Forster was far too honest to be the tool of Mr. Gladstone'sHibernian dishonesty. He was perfectly fearless, but, beneath his ruggedexterior, deeply sensitive. He winced under 'buckshot, ' and many otherepithets; but abuse and danger alike never prevented him from doing whathe had to do to the best of his ability. His earliest acquaintance withIreland had been in the famine, when he was one of the deputation ofsuccour organised by the Society of Friends, and everybody who has readMr. Morley's _Life of Cobden_ will remember the appreciation of theirefforts by the great free-trader. 

Mr. Forster did not think the Irish administration should be all 'ascuffle and a scramble, ' and he inaugurated a reversal of the oldbalance between Lord-Lieutenants and Chief Secretaries which has neverbeen subsequently changed. Indeed, it is often only the latter who has aseat in the Cabinet. He was the victim of many misapprehensions--thebulk of them wilful--but one which worried him was a widespreadconviction that he was a slow man. His delivery was slow, his mannerdeliberate, and he did not lightly give an opinion. Yet emphatically hewas not a slow man, and as an instance may be stated the fact that heelaborated his scheme of decentralising the powers of the IrishGovernment in a single evening in December 1881. I know he was harassed, nay, martyrised, beyond endurance, through the evasive volubility of Mr. Gladstone, which, both by mouth and letter, formed a heavier burden thanall the Irish attacks; but he was a just and conscientious man, and Inever heard of a case where appeal was made to him on which he did notact as reasonably as was compatible with loyalty to such a PrimeMinister. 

His courage in walking unarmed and without police escort in Tulla andAthenry was as great as ever was displayed by a knight-errant of old. The Nationalist papers, no longer able to taunt him with cowardice, tookto declaring him to be a person notorious for ferocious brutality. 

Sir Wemyss Reid said that in the House of Commons his fellow-members hadliterally seen his hair whiten during those two years of patrioticmartyrdom in Ireland, and I always feel that the inner life of thisreticent, commanding statesman would have made a wonderful humandocument. His capacity, if not his forbearance, has been inherited byhis adopted son, Mr. Arnold Forster, the present Secretary for War, whoacted as his private secretary in the latter years of his life. 

When I read Lord Rosebery's speech advocating a Cabinet of business men, I instinctively thought of the late Mr. W. E. Forster, and it is his heirwho is the first illustration of the Liberal Peer's theory. SinceCromwell cleared out the House of Commons, no one has done so much asMr. Arnold Forster, for he upset the seats of the mighty in the WarOffice three months after he kissed hands. I wonder how he would havedealt with Parnellism and crime. 

Mr. Forster's predecessor, Mr. James Lowther, was an uncommonly capableman, and gifted with a fund of humour which prevented him from takingthe Irish too seriously. In 1879 I heard the Irish members in the Houseof Commons vituperating him after a manner that subsequently becameunpleasantly familiar, but was then regarded as a gross breach of theconventions of debate. 'Jim' lay back on the Treasury bench with his hatover his eyes, and to all appearance sound asleep. Never once did heshow sign of hearing their verbal tornado; but eventually he sprang tohis feet, and with infectious gaiety literally chaffed them to madness. I have often thought that the long-limbed Tory member for Hertford, whowas then private secretary to his uncle, Lord Salisbury, must have takennote of the methods of Mr. Lowther in dealing with the Irish party, forit was absolutely on the same lines that he subsequently developed thatsuperb flow of sarcasm which made him, Mr. A. J. Balfour, the popularidol ten years later. 

It has been a practice for many years to appoint a man Chief Secretaryfor Ireland in order to see if he is fit for anything else. This planturned out well in the case of Mr. A. J. Balfour, for he knew Irelandbetter than any other Chief Secretary, and when he came to know itproperly he was removed. 

His brother did as much harm in Ireland as Mr. Arthur Balfour did good. Indeed, in the whole nineteenth century no other incompetent ChiefSecretary misunderstood Ireland with such complete complacency, and ifit had not been for the supervision which 'A. J. ' undoubtedly gave, Mr. Gerald Balfour would have a still worse record. 

There was a poem, not particularly brilliant, which may be quotedbecause it is not widely known:--

 'If I had a Balfour who wrong would go, Do you think I'd tolerate him?--No, no, no! I'd give him coercion in Kilmainham jail, And return him to Arthur, who'd laugh at his wail. '

In fact the impression prevailed that Ireland was then sacrificed to thenepotism of Lord Salisbury, who had inflicted the least capable of theHouse of Cecil on the distressful country. 

When the Duke of York was in Ireland, he stayed with Lord Dunraven, andMr. Gerald Balfour as Chief Secretary was one of the house-party, andthe mother of the Knight of Glin was also there. 

A short time before, a chemist from Cork, who had been appointedsub-confiscator, and desired to secure his own position, had heavily cutdown the Fitzgerald rents. 

Mr. Balfour, by way of making polite conversation, observed to Mrs. Fitzgerald:--

'I believe your son's property has been a long time in the family. '

'Yes, ' she said, 'we got it in the reign of Edward I. , and held it untillast year, when the Government sent an apothecary from Cork to rob us ofit. '

The conversation dropped. 

Mr. Arthur Balfour was very plucky, not only personally, but in hislegislative efforts, and he did wonders for Ireland--the light railwaysrelieving numbers from starvation, and opening up the country. 

An English journalist went down to the West, and tried to make inquiriesabout the popularity of the Chief Secretary. 

He came to the cabin of a man who had been rescued from starvation bygetting Government employment, and had thrived so well that he hadbecome possessed of a pig. 

This pig, on the appearance of the Englishman, escaped into apotato-field, and he heard the woman of the house shout to her son:--

'Mickey, look sharp and turn out Arthur Balfour before he does anymischief. '

The name of the pig showed the gratitude of the family. 

When alluding to Mr. Lowther I omitted to mention that he was always ofopinion that a well-planned scheme of education was the best panacea forthe Irish troubles, and it certainly would have brought up a generationless keenly sensitive to the exaggerated wrongs of the country to whichboth sexes are so frantically attached. During his not very lengthytenure of the office of Chief Secretary it was asserted that Sir GeorgeTrevelyan also had some such idea; but whether he went so far as todraft his plan, and it was consigned to some forgotten pigeon-hole byMr. Gladstone, I cannot say. 

When the Duke of Argyll described Sir George Trevelyan as a jelly-fish, he made a comparison which, from my personal experience, I should callparticularly apt. 

Ireland had very little use for such a flabby politician, and it may beadded, he had very little use for Ireland. 

He was in such a devil of a fright at being forced to succeed poor LordFrederick Cavendish that it was some time before the pressure put uponhim sufficed to make him accept office, nor would he be induced to goover to Dublin Castle at all until he had been given Cabinet rank. Asfor the Cabinet, they were so anxious to settle upon a living target forthe Home Rulers to practise upon, and so afraid that through his defaultone of themselves might have to undertake the unpleasant office, thatthey would have given the prospective victim almost anything he liked, on the principle of letting the condemned criminal choose what heprefers for his final meal before that brief interview with the hangman. 

Directly after the formation of the following Radical Government, I metan Englishman of considerable political importance in Pall Mall, and heobserved:--

'The new Cabinet is quarrelling among themselves. '

'Who are fighting?' I asked. 

'Chamberlain and Trevelyan, ' he replied. 

'What about?'

'Chamberlain says that he brought the party back into office, and hewants the Colonial Office; but Gladstone insists on his being contentwith the Local Government Board. Trevelyan says that, as he has foryears had experience in naval affairs, he ought to be made First Lord. But Gladstone, though he cannot prevail on him to be Chief Secretary, has sent him to the India Office. '

'And may give him free lodgings in Kilmainham if he is refractory, ' Ichimed in. 'And so these two are like pigs with their bristles hurt, poor things. There's a pity. '

Some time later, when I heard Messrs. Chamberlain and Trevelyan were sodisgusted with the Home Rule Bill that they were leaving the Government, says I to myself, 'I wonder if Mr. Gladstone in his own heart thinks ifhe had gratified their wishes about office he could have retained them. '

But as a matter of fact both are patriots far above such demeaninginsinuations. 

Mr. John Morley was a very well-meaning Chief Secretary, but a verymisguided man. 

In a conversation with me, Mr. Morley observed that, owing to theagitation, he saw no alternative but to make Parnell Chief Secretary. 

I said that would be no use, for if he attempted to do his duty he wouldbe shot, even more readily than I should. 

Mr. Morley retorted:--

'He is the leader of the Irish nation. '

'I admit it, ' I replied, 'and he is the only man you can make termswith. '

'How?' says he. 

'You had better ask him, ' says I, 'to nominate some foreign potentate toappoint commissioners who will say to Mr. Parnell, "Let Ireland pay hershare of the national debt and buy out every loyal person who wishes toleave the country, " and then, if Mr. Parnell says, "We are not able todo that, " let them retort, "We will then disfranchise you, for thishumbug has been going on long enough. "'

'That's about it, according to your lights, ' replied Mr. Morley. 

Was I not right?

It is a singular fact that Ulster and Alsace-Lorraine have about thesame acreage--5, 322, 334 to 3, 586, 560--and about the samepopulation--1, 581, 357 to 1, 719, 470. The French and Germans are eachwilling to spend a hundred millions of money and half a million lives, the one to recover, the other to retain, the province, and yet Mr. Gladstone proposed, not only to abandon Ulster, but to put it under therule of the people the Ulsterites hate most on earth. 

It is also remarkable that at the time of the Union the population ofBelfast was 35, 000, and Dublin 250, 000. Now Belfast is 335, 000, whileDublin remains at a quarter of a million. Belfast, in point of customs, is the third largest city in the British dominions, coming next afterLondon and Liverpool, whilst it is the finest shipbuilding town in theworld. 

Yet its inhabitants were to be sold as though they were African slaves, for the sole purpose of getting votes for the Liberal Government. 

I was one day invited by Froude to come to his home to argue out theIrish question with Mr. Jacob Bright and Mr. John Morley. 

I counted on having Mr. Froude on my side, knowing his strong views, butas host he would not interfere. However, Miss Cobbe was there, and to mymind was equal to any of the company. With her on my side, I flattermyself we were too many for the others; but the worst of all argumentsis that the arguing rarely serves any purpose except to make eitherparty more obstinate. 

I knew John Bright very well. 

He was far and away the most honest man of all the Liberal party, and hefully realised the fact that a visible concentration of property anduniversal suffrage could not exist together. He was therefore anxious toenlarge the number of proprietors, but he did not countenance it beingdone entirely at the expense of the English Government without thetenants having to find such a sum of money out of their own pockets aswould give them an interest in paying off the Government charges. 

He was a very broad-minded man, with a simplicity of character which wasadmirable. I liked him much, and my one complaint against him was thathe would never accept my invitations to come and pay me a visit inKerry. 

I never heard him make a speech, but with his beautiful voice it was agreat treat to hear him read Milton. On one occasion he took me to theHouse specially to see Mr. Gladstone, but after nearly an hour he hadreluctantly to tell me that the Prime Minister could not find leisurefor our conversation that day owing to pressure of business, and anotheropportunity never came. 

Although I regret not having met Mr. Gladstone, I yet feel glad that Inever shook him by the hand. I may here mention that I never met Mr. Parnell, though I have seen him in the House. 

From my point of view Mr. John Morley has a dual existence. As man andas historian he is Jekyl, but as politician he is Hyde. 

There is a well-known story about him, so familiar to some of us that itis possibly forgotten in England, wherefore I venture to relate it oncemore. 

He was on a car, and asked the driver:--

'Well, Pat, you'll be having great times when you get Home Rule?'

'We will, your honour--for a week, ' replied the man. 

'Why only a week?' inquired the politician. 

'Driving the quality to the steamers. '

CHAPTER XVI

GLADSTONIAN LEGISLATION

Although the exact measure of my appreciation of the Irish policy of themost dangerous Englishman of the nineteenth century has already beenclearly indicated by casual remarks in previous chapters, that will notabsolve me from duly setting forth some sketch of the inestimable amountof evil which resulted from the interest he unfortunately took in myunhappy land. 

If Napoleon was the scourge of Europe, Mr. Gladstone was the mostmalevolent imp of mischief that ever ruined any one country, and I amheartily grieved that that country should have been mine. 

It is so difficult to get English people to take any interest in Irishtopics that I fully expect this chapter will be skipped by most of myreaders east of Dublin. Yet if any will read these few pages, they willget as clear a view of the harm one man can do a whole land as by wadingthrough hundreds of volumes, for I am giving them the concentratedknowledge I have accumulated by years devoted to profound study of thesubject. 

The course of history may be taken up almost on the morrow of thefamine, for potatoes began to be a scarce crop again in 1850, yet thecountry was improving rapidly, and the relations between landlord andtenant were as cordial as in any part of the world. 

So they continued in absolute amity until what is virtually universalsuffrage was introduced and the ignoramus became the tool of everypolitical knave. 

Mr. Gladstone stated that he brought in the Irish Church Act to pacifythe country in 1868, when the land was as peaceful as English pastureson a Sunday evening. He must really have done so to propitiate Englishdissenters, for no one in Ireland appeared to want it. 

By this Act a resident gentleman was taken away from every parish inIreland, whereby the evils of absentee landlordism were gravelyenhanced. 

Mr. Gladstone called it an act of sublime justice from England toIreland. Previously, in virtue of ancient treaties commencing as farback as the reigns of William and Mary, the English Government wasgiving Presbyterians a grant--called Regium Donum--of Ł70, 000 a year, and by a more recent arrangement was giving Maynooth a grant of Ł24, 000, but that Whig Government actually paid them off out of the spoils of theIrish Church, thereby saving the British Exchequer Ł94, 000 a year. 

And if this be an act of justice, then Aristides can be classed amonghypocritical swindlers. 

It must be borne in mind that when William Pitt caused the Act of Unionto be passed in Parliament, the union of the Churches was a fundamentalfeature, and this, indeed, was the main inducement held out toProtestants to promote the Union. 

Surely it cannot be held to be a valid Union when the principalconsideration in it is set aside, to say nothing of increasing thetaxation by two million sterling a year more than was ever contemplatedby the Act. This was clearly borne out by a Royal Commission composedmostly of Englishmen and presided over by Mr. Childers, an earnestpolitician and an ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer. 

The Catholic priests who expected that their Church would be establishedwere disappointed, while the landlords, who were generally Protestants, had henceforth to support their clergy and at the same time to paytithes to the State. 

As Irish taxation increased 50 per cent, while that of England onlyincreased 18 per cent. , the Irish people did not find Mr. Gladstone'sAct soothing or profitable. 

His next perpetration was the Land Act of 1870, whereby he provided thatno landlord could turn out his tenant without paying him for all hisimprovements (even if these had been done without the knowledge orsanction of the landlord) and giving the tenant a compensation in moneyequal to about one-fourth of the fee-simple. 

This Act might have been all right in principle, but it was useless inpractice, and the compensation made to the County Court Judge foradjudicature came to far more than the amount awarded. 

This is easily accounted for, thus:--

You might as well bring in an Act of Parliament to prevent peoplecutting off their own noses. 

No sane person does such a thing, and no landlord ever turned out animproving tenant. 

But the Irish tenants, having almost the sole representation of thecountry in their hands, returned a body of representatives pledged tothe confiscation of landed property; and in order to keep his party inpower by securing their votes, Mr. Gladstone brought in the Land Act of1881. 

I heard him introduce the motion in the House of Commons, and his speechwas a truly marvellous feat of oratory. He was interrupted on all sidesof the House, and in a speech of nearly five hours in length never oncelost the thread of his discourse. 

As far as I could judge, he never even by accident let slip one word oftruth. 

When the Act passed, Mr. Gladstone anticipated that eightsub-commissioners would do the work. This number very soon ran up to onehundred sub-commissioners and more than twenty County Court valuers. 

The result is that every tenant has been running down his land andletting it go out of cultivation, for the tenants know the commissionersvalue the ground as they find it, and a premium is thus, of course, puton neglecting the soil. 

To show the system on which the valuation was done, many cases have beenknown of the commissioners arriving to value a property after threeo'clock on a December afternoon. 

It is a positive fact that there are professional experts who obtainsubstantial fees for showing tenants the speediest methods of damagingtheir own land. 

All the same I cannot help thinking their services are a matter ofsupererogation, for a recalcitrant Irish tenant in the South and Westneeds instruction in no branch of villainy. 

On one of Lord Kenmare's estates, I executed drainage works costing overŁ200. These were dependent upon sluices to keep out the tide at highwater. A few days before the land was to be inspected, the tenants putbushes in the sluices, let the tide in and flooded the whole land. 

And then a prating, mendacious local schoolmaster began comparing thesevillains to the patriotic Dutch who flooded their land rather thanpermit it to be conquered by the national foe. 

I could give scores of such instances of wilful destruction of propertyfor the purpose of obtaining a reduction. 

Here is one. 

A tenant near Blarney, in County Cork, was seen to be ploughing up avaluable water meadow. 

When asked by a gentleman why he was injuring his land, he repliedwithout hesitation that he was going to get his rent fixed, andimmediately afterwards he should lay it down again as a water meadow. 

It is scarcely credible how great was the amount of perjury that thisAct brought into the country. 

A tenant on a property to which I was agent, whose rent was Ł6 a year, swore he expended Ł395 on improvements and all that it was worthafterwards was Ł4, 10s. He received the implicit credit of the court. 

According to the laws of the Roman Catholic Church perjury in a court ofjustice is a reserved sin for which absolution can only be given by abishop or by priests specially appointed for that purpose. 

One priest applied to the bishop for plenary powers, and said the bishopto him:--

'Are the people so generally bad in your parish?'

'It's the fault of the laws, my lord, ' replied the priest. 

'What laws?' asked the bishop. 

'Firstly, under the Crimes Act, my poor people have to swear they do notknow the moonlighters that come to the house, or they would be murdered. 

'Secondly, under the Arrears Act, they have to swear they are worthnothing in the world or they would not get the Government money. 

'Thirdly, under the Land Act, while they have to swear up their ownimprovements, they must also swear down the value of the land, or theywill get no reductions. 

'So you see, my lord, the sin lies at the door of those who made theinfamous laws which lead weak sinners into temptation they cannot beexpected to overcome. '

The bishop said nothing, but he gave the priest all the powers hedesired. 

I myself heard this story from a parish priest who was present, and as Ihave several times told it to different people, it may have found itsway into print, though I have no recollection of ever seeing it in blackand white. 

Allusion having just been made to the Arrears Act, it may be hereopportune to point out that this was the next step in Mr. Gladstone'slong sequence of Irish mismanagement. This iniquitous measure providedthat no matter how great the arrears owed by the tenant, by lodging oneyear's rent another could be obtained from the Government, and thelandlord was compelled to wipe out the balance. So that if Jack, Tom, and James were all tenants on town land, should Jack be an honest man heobtained no redress, whereas if Tom and James were hardened defaultersthey obtained the complete settlement of all their arrears. 

To obtain the grant of a year's rent from Government, the tenant had toswear as to his assets and also as to the selling value of his farm. 

Here is an illustration which came under my own observation. 

A tenant named Richard Sweeney, whose rent was Ł48 a year, owed threeyears' rent. He paid one year, the Government provided another, and thelandlord had to forgive the third. 

To obtain this result, Sweeney swore that the selling value of his farmwas _nil_, and he received a receipt in full. 

A few weeks later he served me--as agent for the landlord--with noticethat he had sold his interest in the property for Ł630. 

That is not the end of my story. 

The purchaser was a man named Murphy, and a very few years afterwards, upon the ground that the rent was too dear, he took the farm for whichhe had paid Ł630 to Sweeney into the Land Courts and got the rentreduced to Ł36. 

The absurdity of this system was well brought out before the FryCommission, when one high-commissioner and a sub-commissioner both saidthat in valuing the land they took into consideration the tenant'soccupation interest. 

The reader will see the way this works out, if he will accept the verysimple hypothetical case of two tenants holding land to the worth of Ł40each, and one of them only paying Ł20 a year rent. When they both tooktheir cases into the Land Court, the man paying the lower rent of Ł20would obtain the larger reduction, because he had the greateroccupation. 

These facts will show that a Purchase Bill was an absolute necessity. Lord Dufferin truly remarked that landlord and tenant were both in thesame bed, and Mr. Gladstone thought to settle their disputes by givingthe tenant a larger share than he had ever had before. But the tenantconsidered that as he had obtained that concession by fraud andviolence, if he could only give one effective kick more, he would putthe landlord on the floor for the rest of the term of their nationallife. 

When introducing the Land Act of 1870, Mr. Gladstone proved himself ifnot an Irish statesman, an admirable prophet, for he denounced inanticipation exactly what the effect of the Land Act of 1881 would be. 

In 1870, he prospectively criticised such an institution as the LandCourt, which in 1881 he proposed, with its power to give a 'judicialrent. '

'But it is suggested we should establish, permanently and positively, apower in the hands of the State to reduce excessive rents. Now I shouldlike to hear a careful argument in support of that plan. I wish at allevents to retain at all times a judicial habit of not condemning a thingutterly until I have heard what is to be said for it; but I own I havenot heard, I do not know, and I cannot conceive, what is to be said forthe prospective power to reduce excessive rents. If I could conceive aplan more calculated than everything else, first of all, for throwinginto confusion the whole economical arrangements of the country;secondly, for driving out of the field all solvent and honest men whomight be bidders for farms; thirdly, for carrying widespreaddemoralisation throughout the whole mass of the Irish people, I must sayit is this plan. '

And again:--

'We are not ready to accede to a principle of legislation by which theState shall take into its own hands the valuation of rent throughoutIreland. I say, "take into its own hands" because it is perfectlyimmaterial whether the thing shall be done by a State officer formingpart of the Civil Service, or by an arbitration acting under Stateauthority, or by any other person invested by the law with power todetermine on what terms as to rent every holding in Ireland shall beheld. '

This categorical denunciation of the principle which he was then asked, and which he peremptorily refused to sanction, was not enough for Mr. Gladstone, for the records of debate show he went farther, but enoughhas been cited to show that never was prophecy more fully fulfilled. Outrage followed outrage with a rapidity unequalled in Europe, and thatin a country which previous to his remedial measures had practicallybeen unstained by an agrarian outrage for fifty years. 

It would certainly be both remiss of me, and altogether below thecharacter which I trust I have acquired for honest plain speaking, if Iomitted to give my views upon Mr. Wyndham's Act, for those readers whoregard my book as something more than a storehouse of anecdotes--andsince it is written at all, I maintain it claims to be more thanthat--having noticed the freedom with which I have spoken of previousEnglish legislation for Ireland, may very naturally think I should bebegging the question of the hour, if I did not offer a few observationson the latest development of the Irish question. 

I must emphatically repeat what I have already asserted:--that the Actsof Mr. Gladstone rendered a Purchase Bill inevitable, and it fell to Mr. Wyndham's lot to formulate the scheme which has now become law. 

Mr. Wyndham's Act is a great one for Ireland, because where a tenantpreviously paid Ł100 a year rent, all he will have to pay--even attwenty-four years' purchase--is Ł80 a year, and at that rate with thebonus the landlord obtains twenty-seven years' purchase. But this scaleis a little halcyon in most instances. 

It should prove a boon to the country, and it is the necessary outcomeof the Land Act of 1881, by which rents were cut down by commissioners, whose means of living depended on the reductions they made. 

And to make this state of things yet more remarkable, there were twocourts established for fixing rates. The one consisted ofsub-commissioners, who were paid by the year, and the other was that ofthe County Court judge, who was wholly dependent on a valuer paid by theday. 

So, whoever cut down the most earned the most. 

A valuer in Limerick was remonstrated with for cutting down local rentsso low, and he replied:--

'It is all for the good of trade, for it will bring every tenant intothe Court. '

And so it actually did, for that Court very shortly afterwards was chockfull of cases. 

My own opinion is that the Wyndham Act would have been far morebeneficial, if the Government had given the tenant a free grant of someof the purchase money, and insisted on his finding some more of ithimself, whereby would have been created a deeper interest in his landthan is now inspired in his breast by the mere transference of his leasefrom his old landlord to the Government. 

I made this remark to an Englishman at the Carlton Club, and he said tome that, according to his view, England should lend whatever money waswanted but give no free grant. 

I replied:--

'A poor man from Kerry came to my house in London, and asked for theloan of a pound. I declined to lend him the sovereign, but I did lendhim half a crown, and as he bolted to America the very next day, I thinkI had the best of the bargain. '

My friend accepted the analogy and dropped the subject. 

That was far more tactful on his part than the conduct of the EnglishGovernment, for the different Acts of Parliament relating to Irelandhave had the effect of rendering the feelings between landlord andtenant much worse than they were before. 

And the Act of 1881, which provided that landlord and tenant should havea lawsuit every fifteen years, brought the feeling up to boiling pitch. 

Now the Government inherits all this hatred by proposing to be the solelandlord in Ireland. Therefore, England is reaping the whirlwind whereMr. Gladstone sowed the wind. 

This does not appear to me to be sound statesmanship. An open hatred ofthe Government has been instilled into the brain of thousands of Irishchildren side by side with a more hypocritical hatred of the landlord. Now that these two are to be combined in one passion, and that directedagainst the receiver of rent, matters do not present a promisingoutlook. 

If the Government sell up those tenants who do not pay rent in years tocome, no Irish occupiers of the property will be obtainable. 

If English tenants be imported, the latter had better insist on coats ofmail for themselves, and on life insurance policies in favour of thenearest relatives they leave behind in England. 

That reminds me of a story. 

Sir Denis Fitzpatrick and his daughter were making a tour of the Kerryfjords some years ago, and the lady asked a boatman on Caragh Lake, whatwould happen to a tenant who took an evicted farm. 

The reply was:--

'I don't think he'd do it again, Miss, leastways it's in the next worldalone he'd have the chance of making such a fool of himself. '

This may be commended to any unsophisticated English who contemplateHibernian immigration as a prospective way of cheaply obtaining thatonce popular bait of Mr. Jesse Collins, three acres and a cow. 

Here is another aspect of not paying rent to Government, which wouldoccur to no one unacquainted with Ireland, but is quitecharacteristic:--

Suppose twenty men were tenants on a townland; one would pay, and theother nineteen after being evicted would also squat down on his patch. Unless caretakers at a cost of about three times the rent were put inunder excessive police protection, all the nineteen farms would promptlybecome derelict. 

It would have been far better if the Government had given a free grantof one quarter of the purchase money, had compelled the tenant tohimself find another quarter, and had lent the remaining half for acomparatively short term, say twenty-five years. 

Then the tenant would have had genuine interest in the redemption of hisown property. 

But, asks the English tourist impressed by the apparent beggarliness ofall he sees, how could the tenant procure a quarter of the money?

Naturally it would be alleged by the agitators that he could not. Allthe same you may confidently contradict any such denial as that. 

It is clear that almost any tenant could get the money, if you bear inmind that though rents are so reduced, the most unimproving tenant canget from ten to twenty years' purchase for the good-will of his farm. 

Of course, just now the old order is changing considerably in Ireland, but the loss of their old landlords is not appreciated by the betterclass of tenants, though the good have of course to suffer for thebad--a thing even better known in my country than elsewhere. I heard aninteresting confirmation of this from a lady of my acquaintance, whohaving asked a respectable woman what had become of her son, receivedthe reply:--

'Ah, for sure, he has got a situation with a farmer. '

'Well, that's a good start in life, is it not?' asked my friend, towhich the woman retorted in melancholy accents:--

'That may be, but my family have always been rared (_i. E. _ reared) onthe gentry until now, ' thereby expressing a feeling very prevalent inIreland to-day. 

The Home Rulers allege that these high prices which are paid for thegood-will of land are attributable to two causes:--

 _(a)_ Excess of competition for land. _(b)_ Irish returning from America. 

Both these reasons are absurd. 

When the population of Ireland was nearly eight millions, these pricescould not be obtainable, nor anything like them, while to-day thepopulation is only four millions. Unless the returning emigrants thoughtthey were obtaining good value for their money, they would hardlyabandon a country--the United States--where they can get land fornothing. 

The enormous increase in the Irish Savings Banks, as well as thedeposits in other Irish Banks, must be almost entirely derived from thesavings of the farmers. The landlords have been ruined by the Land Act;labourers have no money to spare; and traders will not leave their moneyidle at the small rate of interest credited. 

If the farmers thought they had better means of using the money, theywould withdraw it, and they are without doubt as well aware as I am howthey can do the English Government in the future, for if there is anyroguery unknown to them, it is infinitesimal. 

I cannot say that I think many landlords will leave Ireland inconsequence of the Wyndham Act. The few who will go are those who areglad to be quit at any price, and to be free to pack out of the country. But many a landlord will be far more comfortable on his own estate, whenhe has rid himself of all his tenants. 

One feature of this curious Act is that the Geraldines have got rid ofthe last of their property, and escaped all the forfeitures. 

As for the sporting rights, far too much fuss has been made over them. Except where there are plantations or good fishing, they are of verylittle value one way or the other. The Act will not affect the hunting. Small Irish farmers like to see the hunt almost as much as the huntingset themselves like to participate in it. 

Of course, too, the Act ought to be popular in Ireland, because it istaking so much money out of England. 

A point I wish to emphasise is one about which there has been a greatdeal of misconception. 

A considerable amount of capital has been made out of the depreciationof agricultural produce in Ireland as compared with England. But Irelandis a stock-producing country and not an agricultural country in thestrict sense, for the cultivation of wheat in Ireland has long sinceceased to exist. The true relation may be seen in the fact that inEngland the difficulty of getting store-cattle was a loss to farmers, whereas it has been a decided gain to farmers in Ireland--though theyare not best pleased when you impress the fact on them. 

Mr. Finlay Dun in _Landlords and Tenants in Ireland in 1881_ cites someexamples which may be apt to-day when we are considering Mr. Wyndham'sAct. 

He writes on page 64:--

'Kilcockan parish between Lismore and Youghal was in great part disposedof in the Landed Estates Court thirty years ago. It was bought, some ofit by occupiers, some of it by shopkeepers and attorneys. Rents havebeen raised, and there is not much appearance of prosperity. Newtown, for several generations the fee-simple property of a family of the nameof Nason, after the famine of 1846, was cut up and sold; the familyresidence is in ruin. At Lower Curryglass, a few miles east of Lismore, a good farm of five hundred acres, belonging to a family who have beenobliged to leave it, bears sad evidence of neglect; the good olddeserted manor-house, the farm buildings, and a dozen cottages in thevillage are falling to pieces. Contrary to what might be anticipated, some of the smaller proprietors in this district have been strenuoussupporters of the Land League, although it is to be hoped that theyrepudiate the destruction of the cattle on the land of Mr. Grant, whichwere stabbed, and some of them drowned in the river. Mr. Grant had comeunder the ban of the League for evicting a dissipated bankrupt tenant, whose debts to the extent of two hundred pounds he had paid, and whowould have been reinstated, if there had been the remotest prospect ofreformed habits or of getting clear of his difficulties. Such actsappear to justify the statement, "that Irishmen don't know what theywant, and won't be satisfied until they get it. "'

God knows we have waded knee deep in blood of men, and domestic animalssince that was written, yet to-day are we any nearer the final solutionof the Irish difficulties? In my opinion, certainly not. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE STATE OF KERRY

It has been stated that it is only within the last forty years that thebulk of the people of Ireland, long outside the pale of the ballot-box, have actively entered political life. This is quite true. 

The whole of the Home Rule troubles followed the presentation ofpractically universal suffrage to the half-educated andover-enthusiastic Irish, who are easily led away, apt to believemob-orators, and, by inherited instinct, to go against the Government. 

What the effect of universal suffrage in India would be it is not mybusiness to estimate. Still, the analogy of what the ballot-paperprovided in Ireland, if applied to the teeming population of ourOriental Empire, suggests a pandemonium to which the horrors of theMutiny are but a mere scream of agony. 

The ballot transformed Ireland; or rather, it permitted the worstpassions of the most ignorant to be played upon by interestedadventurers, when the political power of Ireland had passed for ever outof the hands of the restraining classes. Democracy spelt anarchy, andthe word patriotism was degraded in a way that had no parallel since theFrench Revolution. 

The first outward and visible sign was the creation of the Irish HomeRule party, which constituted itself separate and distinct from the restof the House of Commons, the standard of which the new gang was todebase. Nor did they rest content until it became the scene of factionfights and organised obstruction in combination with the flagrantviolation of all decencies of language and behaviour. 

Members were returned for Irish constituencies who had been convicts;others came who richly deserved imprisonment for life. They instigatedmurders, and clamoured because the murderers were not regarded asheroes; or if they were hung, canonised them as martyrs. They attemptedto prostitute the law to their own base standard of political morality. They assiduously laboured to render life valueless in Ireland andproperty worthless, whilst no deed was too cowardly, no atrocity toobarbarous, for them to praise. They alone in modern times warred againstwomen and children. Animals were the dumb victims of the inhumanferocity they in no way tried to check, and they effectively taught thereceptive Irish millions that a British Government could be coerced intogiving what was demanded provided a sufficient number of crimes createda holocaust large enough to intimidate the weak-kneed at St. Stephen's. 

But Mr. Parnell and the Land League would all have been promptly reducedto the pitiful unimportance from which they had so noisily emerged if ithad not been for Mr. Gladstone. 

The root of English politics has been party government--'where all arefor a party, and none are for the State, ' to reverse Macaulay's famousline. Now the Irish vote of sixty was a solid asset, capable in manycases of weighing down one side of the political scale. It was obviousthat the votes would be unscrupulously given, and Mr. Gladstone bidhigher than the Tories. Literally the necessary parliamentary machineryfor the government of the United Kingdom was clogged by theNationalists, who brought obstruction to a fine art, and it was Mr. Gladstone who always gave in when the Irish outcry would have stimulatedan honest man to avail himself of all loyal forces which law and thecommon weal provided. 

Long before this the Irish political agitator had set himself toembitter the relations existing between landlord and tenant. AnEnglishman goes into Parliament for various motives; an Irishman for hisliving. If he did not outshout his neighbour, if he were not implicitlyobedient to Mr. Parnell, if he did not arouse the worst passions of theworst people in his constituency, he was promptly dismissed. 

To do them justice, the Irish members gave such an exhibition ofblackguardism as has no parallel on earth, though it earned but themildest rebuke from their obsequious ally, Mr. Gladstone. 

In 1869, for example, before this balloting away of all that wascreditable to Ireland, the relations between landlord and tenant were ofthe most kindly nature. The leading landlords of Kerry generallyrepresented the county in Parliament with uniform decency and occasionalbrilliance, while larger sums were borrowed and expended by thelandlords under the Land Improvement Act than were spent in the same wayin any other county. I can prove that the principal landowner inKerry--Lord Kenmare--expended a greater sum in ten years on his estatesthan he received out of them, though I cannot say he ever found out forhimself that it was better to give than to receive. 

For fifty years prior to what Mr. Gladstone was pleased to call his'remedial legislation, ' Kerry was unstained by agrarian crime; allthings went on smoothly, and a number of railways were constructed withguaranteed capital, half of which was contributed by the landlords, although they received no benefit from the increased prices of farmproduce caused by railway communication. The Board of Works returns showthat the money borrowed by Kerry landlords under the different LandImprovement Acts amounted to almost half a million, and yet thedeductions made under the Land Act were greater in Kerry than in othercounties. 

Here is an instance from my own experience. 

I purchased from the Government in 1879 an estate, the rental of whichwas Ł517, 2s. 4d. ; it was considered so cheaply let that the majority ofthe tenants offered twenty-seven years' purchase for their farms. Iborrowed from the Government and expended on drainage Ł1120, 14s. 11d. Then the Commissioners under the Land Act reduced the rental to Ł495, 10s. 6d. , and the Government which sold me the estate continued tocompel me to pay interest on the amount borrowed, although by its ownlegislation I was deprived of any advantage resulting from the outlay. 

The rental of Kerry in 1870 was considerably less than it had been fortyyears previously, and higher prices were paid for the fee-simple of landthan were offered in any other part of Ireland. But Mr. Gladstone's'remedial manoeuvres' changed the country and the people. 

Demoralising bribes to the Irish nation frittered away the proceeds ofthe plunder of the Irish Church. A notable instance was a million underthe Arrears Act, the principle of which was that no honest tenant whohad paid his rent could derive any benefit from it, but that anydrunkard or squanderer who had not paid his rent might have it paid forhim by the Government on swearing that he was unable to pay. 

Here is an instance that occurred on an estate under my management. 

A tenant, whose yearly rent was Ł48, had one year's rent paid byGovernment and another year's rent given up by his landlord, on hisswearing that the selling value of his farm was _nil_; ten weeksafterwards he served me with a notice, as required by the statute, thathe had sold the interest of the farm for Ł670. 

Again, there was a tenant who swore that he had expended Ł513, 14s. 6d. In permanent improvements, and that after this expenditure the fairletting value of the farm was only Ł17, though the original rent wasŁ26, 4s. 

How could I blame an ignorant peasantry for making false statements, when laws were framed by the leaders of public opinion in England whichreleased the Irish tenants from every moral obligation, and made theirassumed responsibilities and agreements a dead letter; while orators, living on the wages of patriotism, were allowed to preach sedition andplunder to an excitable people? The result was that the work ofdemoralisation made rapid progress, perjury became a joke, assassinationwas merely 'removal, ' and men who had been brutally murdered were saidto have met with an accident. 

I have already shown how apt a prophet Mr. Gladstone was in his forecastin the House of Commons in 1870, and one more quotation adds testimonyto his inspiration--though from what direction it came I will not lingerto inquire:--

'Compulsory valuation and fixity of tenure would bring about totaldemoralisation and a Saturnalia of crime. '

Exactly. 

Mr. Laing, formerly M. P. For Orkney, in a magazine article defended the'Plan of Campaign' as an innocent attempt to defend the weak against thestrong, and as having been adopted only on estates where rents were toohigh, in fact, as the result of high rents. As a matter of fact, inOrkney the rents advanced 194 per cent. , and during the same period inKerry they dwindled. He also asserted that the Irish tenants'improvements had been confiscated by the landlords as the tenantimproved. 

Certainly the law did not prevent them increasing the rent; but, unfortunately for the reasoning of Mr. Laing, and his taking for grantedimaginary 'confiscations, ' figures most decidedly prove that thelandlords did not use any such power. The rentals have steadilydecreased while the landlords were borrowing and expending nearly half amillion in my own county. 

This fact is conclusively demonstrated by the Government returns. 

As to the National League--with all its paraphernalia of boycotting, shooting from behind a hedge, merciless beating, shooting in the legs, and other similar variations of Irish Home Rule, on which I shall dwellin a later chapter--being only a protector of the weak tenant againstthe hard landlord, I think one fact will prove more forcibly than anyargument the fallacy of such an assertion. 

There were two estates in Kerry let at a much lower rate than any othersin the county--those of Lord Cork and Colonel Oliver. 

Colonel Oliver's agent was the only one fired at in Kerry in 1886, andLord Cork's agent was the only one obliged to employ over two hundredpolice to protect him in endeavouring to recover in 1887 rent which wasdue in 1884. This rent was due on land let at considerably under thePoor Law valuation, and the rents were only half what was paid in 1860. 

These cases afford a decided proof that the Land or National Leaguecarries on its government irrespective of high or low rents, and the'Plan of Campaign' is worked according as the local branches of theLeague have disciplined or terrorised the inhabitants of a district, theorders from 'headquarters' depending on the probability of success. 

I should like to retort on Mr. Laing that, while the evidence before theLand Commissioner proved the rental of Ireland was diminishing, that ofthe country where his own property lay increased to an unusual degree. Ido not say the landlords confiscated the tenants' improvements, possiblythey made none. But figures are hard facts, and they prove threethings:--

First, that Kerry landlords spent Ł453, 539 on improvements. Secondly, that the rental of Kerry was lower in 1880 than in 1840. Thirdly, thatthe rental of Orkney increased 194 per cent. During that time. 

On the south-west coast of Kerry lie the Blasquets, a group of islandsthe property of Lord Cork, one of them inhabited by some twenty-fivefamilies. The old rental was Ł80, which was regularly paid. This wasreduced by Lord Cork to Ł40, the Government valuation being Ł60. Nowthis island reared about forty milch cows, besides young cattle andsheep, and at the period when might meant right in Ireland theinhabitants, having some surplus stock, took possession of anotherisland to feed them on. 

This island was let to another man, but he was not able to resist thetenants any more than the mouse nibbling a piece of cheese is able tofight a cat. 

For ten years up to 1887 those tenants paid no poor rate. Theysuccessfully resisted the payment of county cess, to the detriment oftheir fellow taxpayers, and they only paid one half year's rent out ofsix, and that not until they had been served with writs. And thesepeople, in the year 1886, sent a memorial to the Government to save themfrom starvation. 

This is a remarkable case, and proves that poverty and the cry ofstarvation are not always the result of rents and taxes, as the Irishpatriots and their English separatist allies so frequently assert. 

I am going to quote a colloquy overheard at a Kerry fair to show howdeeply the teaching of Messrs. Parnell, Gladstone, Dillon, Morley, Davitt, Biggar, and Company has taken root in the Irish mind. 

Jim from Castleisland meeting Mick from Glenbeigh, asks:--

'Well, Mick, an' how are ye getting on?'

'Illigant, glory be to the Saints. '

'How's that, Mick? Sure, prices is low. '

'True for you, Jim, prices is low; but what we _has_ we _has_, for wepays nobody. '

And to that I will add another observation. 

Somebody asked me:--

'If Ireland were to get Home Rule, what would become of the agitator?'

I replied:--

'He would be called a reformer, unless it paid him better to clamour fora fresh Union. He'd sell all his patriotism for five shillings, and hisloyalty could be bought by a few glasses of whisky. '

And that's the whole truth of the matter. 

CHAPTER XVIII

A GLANCE AT MY STEWARDSHIP

Davitt called the generation after O'Connell's 'a soulless age ofpitiable cowardice. '

I should call the generation that was active in the early eighties 'acowardly age of pitiless brutality. '

Times had begun to mend in Ireland from 1850, and had continued to do sountil the ballot made the country a prey to self-seeking politicalagitators. 

Mr. Gladstone considered that if you gave a scoundrel a vote it made himinto a philanthropist, whereas events proved it made him an eageraccessory of murder, outrage, and every other crime. 

Yet this happened after Fenianism had practically died out in the earlyseventies. 

I myself heard Mr. Gladstone say that landlords had been weighed in thebalance and had not been found wanting, for the bad ones wereexceptional. 

None the less were they and their representatives delivered over totheir natural opponents, who were egged on by the Land League and by itstacit or active supporters in the House of Commons. 

Emphatically I repeat the assertion that neither Mr. Parnell nor theLand League would have been formidable without the active help of Mr. Gladstone. 

Before 1870 Kerry used to be represented by gentlemen of the county. Thepresent members in 1904 are an attorney's clerk, an assistantschoolmaster, a Dublin baker, and a fourth of about the same class. 

This was no more foreseen by the landlords when the ballot wasintroduced any more than we anticipated the way in which we were to beplundered. Many considered that the confiscation of the Irish Church, which had been established since the reign of Elizabeth, was an inroadinto the rights of property very likely to be followed up by furtheraggressions, but we never looked for such a wholesale violation asensued. 

By the Act of 1870 no tenant could be turned out without being paid asum averaging a fourth of the fee-simple in addition to being paid forhis improvements, and there the most observant of us thought the worsthad been reached. 

When the Act of 1881 was passed, I met Lord Spencer, one of the authorsof it, and said to him:--

'This Act will have as much effect in settling Ireland as throwing a cupof dirty water into the Thames would have in creating a flood. '

My words were soon proved right, for the tenants, having obtained halfthe landlord's property by it, thought that by well working their votingand shooting powers they would get the remainder. 

I have been getting away from my own experiences to give my ownconvictions. When you have meditated for twenty years amid the ruins ofwhat you had been building up all your life long and know that it is dueto Irish outrage and English misrule, there is a temptation to speakplainly on breaking silence. 

The year 1878 was a wet year and yielded a bad harvest; 1879 was worse. The prosperity of Ireland depends on its harvest, and starvation is theopportunity of the lying agitator. 

On July 8, 1880, I gave evidence before the Royal Commission onAgriculture, being mainly examined by the president, the Duke ofRichmond and Gordon, others on the board being Lord Carlingford, Mr. Stansfeld, afterwards Lord, Mr. Joseph Cowen, and Mr. Mitchell Henry. 

Here are some of my statements on a then experience of thirty-oneyears:--

'The expenditure by landlords on farm buildings is as great in Irelandas in Scotland. '

'In the exceptional state of things I strongly disapprove oftenant-right in Ireland, which, as Lord Palmerston said, is landlordwrong. '

'Small holdings are a very bad thing in Ireland where they are not mixedwith large holdings. '

'The distress in Kerry is considerable, but has been considerablyexaggerated. '

'Every tenant in Ireland has six months to redeem after he is evicted. '

'I have never known a man leave a farm unless compelled. '

'I contradict the statement that tenants make improvements which tend toincrease the letting value of the land. '

'You pay four times as much for spade tillage as for ploughing byhorse. '

'Bad farming in Ireland is due to want of education and to the enhancedsubdivision of the land. When the farmer gets higher up the social scalehe will have more sense than to make beggars of his children bysubdivision. '

'Distress has not produced the discontent. '

'Almost more land has been sold in Kerry than in any county in Ireland. '

Three months later, in my evidence before the Irish Land Act Commission, in answer to the Chairman, I stated that in my opinion it was simplyimpossible to arbitrate on rent. I had two tenants of my own whoseyearly rent was Ł20 and whose valuation was Ł20. One of them in 1880sold Ł135 worth of pigs and butter, and the other man's children wereassisted in charity from my house, though both had equal means ofsuccess. 

I also pointed out that there were then 300, 000 occupiers of land inIreland, whose holdings were under Ł8 Poor Law valuation, and theseoccupiers when their potatoes failed had nothing but relief works, starvation, or emigration. To give them their whole rent would not meetthe difficulty. 

I submitted a scheme of purchase, in which Baron Dowse was greatlyinterested, and I suggested that all holdings under Ł4 a year should beejected at Petty Sessions, because it was a great hardship for thetenant of such a holding to have Ł2, 10s. Costs put upon him. 

I ended with:--

'There is a case in this county in connection with which there is likelyto be very considerable disturbance. A man had a farm put up for saleand a Nationalist bought it at a very low figure, on the understandingthat he was to keep it for the man's family; but as soon as he got it heturned Conservative and kept it. '

 BARON DOWSE--'Turned what?'

 MYSELF--'Conservative. '

 BARON DOWSE--'Rogue, I would say. You would not say that Conservatives are rogues?'

Since that was a debatable point on which the Commission had nojurisdiction to inquire, I returned no answer. 

As the distress was alluded to above, I may lighten the recentseriousness of my observations by an anecdote on the topic. 

In 1880 the Duchess of Marlborough organised a fund for supplying thepeople with meal. The Dublin Mansion House did the same, but their mealwas of a coarser description. 

A Blasquet Islander was asked how he was getting on, and made answer:--

'Illigant, glory be to the Saints. We're eating the Duchess, and feedingtwo pigs on the Mansion House. '

This recalls the story of the Englishman who inquired of a Kerry manwhich measure of English legislation had proved most beneficial forIreland. 

'The Famine (of 1879) was the best, beyond a shadow of doubt, ' was thereply, 'for I fattened and sold ninety fine turkeys on the strength ofit. '

In 1880 some Kerry men did a very good stroke of business. They sent acargo of potatoes from Killorglin to Scotland and brought them back asimported Champion seed, selling them for six times the original price. 

About this period Mr. Leeson-Marshall, who had been away from Kerry andcoming back found some cottages near Milltown still only half built, observed:--

'Good God, aren't those houses finished yet?'

'Well, sor, ' was the reply, 'the contract's finished but the housesaren't. '

And it has been my life-long experience that ninety-five per cent, ofall the penalties in contracts are worthless, as the contractorsthemselves are only too well aware. 

Being a land agent, I wish to provide some account from another pen ofmy stewardship, for which said stewardship I was falsely called 'themost rack-renting agent in Ireland. '

Out of Mr. Finlay Dun's book, from which I have previously quoted, Icondense the following from the chapter he devoted to the estates forwhich I was agent. 

He observes that in 1881 my firm had the supervision of eighty-eightestates, upwards of three thousand farming tenants, and annuallycollected rents to the value of a quarter of a million sterling. Fromthe particulars I furnished him he deduces:--

'So recently as the end of November the Lady Day rents had been wellpaid up; old arrears had been reduced; on two estates in the Court ofChancery Ł6000 had been collected with only a few shillings in default. Dairy farmers prospering had been particularly well able to pay rentsand other claims. More recent rent collections, unfortunately, were notso satisfactory. Tenants generally had earned the money, but had notbeen allowed to pay it over. 

'Many of the low-rented estates were badly farmed and the tenantry inlow water. On the higher rented, the struggle for existence had broughtout extra industry and energy and led to fair success. '

The following provided an apt illustration:--

'Mr. Gould Adams of Kilmachill had a small estate on the north side of ahill rented at 20s. An acre; the rents were paid up, the tenants doingwell. On the southern aspect of the same hill, with better land, at thedevoutly desiderated Griffith's valuation, which was 16s. 4d. , thetenants were invariably hard up, some of them two years in arrears. Alltenants had free sale, averaging five years' rent. 

'The larger proprietors, as a rule, were most helpful and liberal totheir tenants. Where improvements were not effected or initiated by thelandlords, they were seldom done at all. There had often beenconsiderable difficulty in overcoming the prejudice and "therest-and-be-thankful" spirit both of landlords and tenants. 

'On Sir George Colthurst's Ballyvourney estate, twenty miles east ofKillarney, under Mr. Hussey's auspices about Ł30, 000 had been expendedin draining, building, and roadmaking. The economic value of manyholdings had been doubled, although the rents had only been increasedfive per cent. , and subsequently the Commissioners fixed the rents at 25per cent. Less than they had been fifty years earlier. 

'The extending village of Mill Street had been in great measurereconstructed by his exertions. 

'The Land League having enforced non-payment of rent, the obligation tomeet other debts was weakened. Although there was more money than usualin the hands of the farming community, shopkeepers were not so willinglyand promptly paid as formerly. Want of security checked the improvedbusiness which should have set in after a good harvest. The Land Leagueagitation generally originated with the publicans, small shopkeepers, and bankrupt farmers, rather than with the actual land occupiers. Forpeace and protection, many pay their subscription to the League andallow their names to be enrolled. The intimidation and 'boycotting, 'which was so widely had recourse to, rendered it dangerous for eitherfarmers or tradesmen to make a stand against the mob. With Sam Weller itwas regarded expedient to shout with the biggest crowd. '

Thus wrote a critical visitor keenly surveying the situation in noprejudiced spirit, having gone on a visit to Ireland to inquire into thesubjects of land tenure and estate management. 

In his next chapter is a tribute to Lord Kenmare, 'a kind andconsiderate landlord, united to his people by strong ties of race andcreed, residing for a great part of the year on his estates, ready withpurse and influence to advance the interests of his neighbourhood. Onhis mansion and on the town of Killarney, since his accession to theproperty in 1871, he has spent Ł100, 000. At his own expense he haserected a town hall, and improved and beautified Killarney. Within thelast twenty years Ł10, 000 of arrears have been written off. From lastyear's rents ten to twenty per cent, was deducted. During the last fewyears of distress, Ł15, 000 has been borrowed for draining and otherimprovements; regular work has thus been found for the labourer; on suchoutlay in many instances no percentage has been charged. Since 1870, three hundred labourers have been comfortably housed and provided withgardens or allotments varying from one to three pounds annually. '

I could not myself so tersely put the situation to-day as by quotingthis contemporary narrative, the facts for which I supplied. 

Once more let me draw upon Mr. Finlay Dun. 'Unmindful of all thisconsistent liberality, ungrateful for the great efforts to improve hispoorer neighbours, popular prejudice has been roused against LordKenmare; it has been impossible to collect rents; threatening lettershave been sent to him. Mortified with the apparent fruitlessness of hishumane endeavours he has been compelled to leave Killarney House. 

'His agent, Mr. Hussey, who for twenty years has been earnestly andintelligently labouring to improve Irish agriculture, to bring morecapital to bear on it, to render it more profitable, and has, besides, most energetically striven to elevate and house more decently thelabouring population, has also brought down on himself the odium of thepowers that be. For months he has had to travel armed and guarded by acouple of constables; now he has thought it discreet to leave thecountry. '

This, however, is erroneous. I only took a house for my family in Londonfor the winter, and was backwards and forwards between Kerry and themetropolis. 

Against all this let me set another quotation. In _New York Tablet_ for1880, a letter from Daniel O'Shea, who stated that for a large number ofyears he was a resident in Killarney. 

'Among the most prominent tyrants was Lord Kenmare, who has so recentlysurpassed himself and his antecedents in despotism. He is a linealdescendant of the original land thief, Valentine Brown, who was aspecial pet of 'the Virgin Queen' Bess, and strange to relate, thisdescendant of that Brown is a much-favoured pet of John Brown's Queen. Let me explain that he lives with the Queen in London where he holds theposition of chamberlain (_sic_) . .. At Aghadoe House now resides thatruthless Sam Hussey. Allow me to give you an outline of this heartlessfellow's antecedents. This Hussey is of English origin and was formerlya cattle-dealer, and practised usury as far back as 1845. If all Irelandwere to be searched for a similar despot he would not be found. He is aregular anti-Christ and Orangeman at heart, and, in fact, he acts asagent for all the bankrupt landlords in Kerry. An English-Irish landlordis an alien in heart, a despot by instinct, an absentee by inclination;and all the foul confederacy of landlordism in Kerry is always in directopposition to the cause of Ireland. '

There is a copious mendacity about that effusion which makes me thinkthe real mission of the writer should have been to become an IrishMember of Parliament. His powers of misrepresentation would have raisedhim to an eminence among obstructionists. 

After all, scurrilous denunciation never affected me. His life by SirWemyss Reid reveals how Mr. W. E. Forster flinched under the vituperationlevelled at his head. But he was not an Irishman, least of all a Kerryman, and so he never felt the fun of the fray, the grim earnest of thefight which made me set my teeth and give as good as I received. Indeed, I'll take my oath no man had the better of me, either in bandying wordsor yet in acts, so long as they were open and above-board, but it hasalways been the way of sedition and conspiracy to hit below the belt. 

CHAPTER XIX

MURDER, OUTRAGE AND CRIME

Once launched upon memories of those horrible perpetrations by so-calledChristians, which disgraced alike my native country and all Christendom(because the criminals nominally worshipped the same God, and professedreverence to Him), I could enumerate instances until I had filled avolume. 

You know how the Ghost told Hamlet that he could a tale unfold, whoselightest word would harrow up his soul. Why, I could tell five score, and still not have exhausted the roll of crime. 

As my experience is mainly connected with Kerry, it ischaracteristically Irish for me to start with an example from CountyCork. The outrage was on the Rathcole estate of Sir George Colthurst. The rental was Ł1500, and the landlord had expended Ł10, 000 onimprovements, so that it was not to be wondered that the labourersshould meet to celebrate their employer's marriage. 

Nor to any one knowing Ireland was it surprising that the Land Leagueshould have despatched one of their well-armed bands to fire on them forso doing. 

This was apparently a challenge to Kerry not to be outdone in barbarityby Cork, her neighbour and rival. 

Kerry was quite equal to current demands on her inhumanity. 

A labourer of the M'Gillycuddys was visited by another Land Leaguedetachment and had his ear, _ŕ la_ Bulgaria, cut clean off to the bone, because he worked on a farm from which a tenant had been evicted. 

The next night a small Protestant farmer near Tralee found his best cowtortured and killed because he had sold milk to the police. 

On the same night a farmer's house was sacked because he had bought some'boycotted' hay. 

Still on the same night, at Millstreet, another Land League gangattacked a house, one of the Land League police being killed, and one ofthe Crown police wounded. 

In fact, all law save Land League law was for a time at an end inMunster. 

At one Kerry Assize, a criminal caught by four policemen in the very actof breaking into a house, was acquitted, and at the Cork Assize theCrown Prosecutor, after half a dozen acquittals, announced he would notcontinue the farce of putting criminals on their trial. 

I mentioned boycotting just now, but I am tempted to pause, because anew generation that knows not Parnellism, nor the extent of crime inthat unhappy period, may not be aware of the origin of the term. 

Captain Boycott was agent for Lord Erne's Mayo estates, and laid out thewhole of his capital Ł6000, in improving and stocking his own property. Because, in the course of his duty, he served some ejectment notices, hewas denounced by the Land League, his farm servants were terrorised intoleaving his employment, and when he imported fifty labourers from thenorth of Ireland to save his crops, the Government had to despatch asmall army corps of troops and constabulary to protect them. So greatwas the power of the League, that even in Dublin the landlord of a hoteldeclined to let him stop more than twenty-four hours in the house, as hewas threatened if he ventured to harbour him. For the protection of hislife and no more, the unfortunate gentleman had to leave the country. 

Baron Dowse said in charging the Grand Jury of the Connaught WesternAssize, that this case had 'excited the wonder and amazement of a greatpart of the United Kingdom and the sorrow of a considerable portion ofIreland. ' Very soon the name of Boycott was given to the approved methodof actively sending a man to Coventry, or threatening his life andproperty as well as refusing to permit him to be supplied with even thebare necessities of existence. 

Baron Dowse, a man who had no fear of unmanly criminals, justly styledthis a reign of terror. 

Kerry is divided into six Poor Law Unions, three of them--Kenmare, Cahirciveen and Dingle--are very poor districts; but there waspractically not an outrage in them. Killarney, Tralee and Listowel arerich by comparison, Tralee being the richest of the three, andCastleisland the wealthiest portion of the district. There were nearlyas many outrages there as in the whole of the rest of the country, whichshows that poverty was not the cause. 

I was in and out of Castleisland, but though I had a sheaf ofthreatening letters, I never met with any insults or received a threatto my face. 

Only once did I overhear any hostile mutterings. This was when I wasdriving out of Tralee, and my coachman stopped to give a message in thedusk at a house on the outskirts of the town. 

Suddenly two or three men came up, and one said:--

'Now's the time to settle old Hussey. '

Old Hussey--to use their accurate nomenclature--popped his head out ofthe window, and also his right hand which held a most serviceablerevolver and invited them to come on. 

They did not. In fact they scattered with a rapidity which proved theyhad not imbibed enough whisky to affect their legs or give them courage. 

This will show that my business--to collect what was due to thelandlords I represented--was not always agreeable work or always easy. But my duty was to get in rents, and so I got them, whenever I could. 

The tenants did not all pay direct, for many were far too frightened. Quite a number, even of the Roman Catholics, used to send the moneythrough the Protestant clergy. 

How they settled this in the confessional I do not know, possibly it wasa trifle they did not consider worth troubling the priest with. 

Three tenants on Lord Kenmare's estate came into my office on oneoccasion, and said they would like to pay their rent, but were afraid ofthe Land League. 

I treated their fears as arrant nonsense, but told them to come andargue it out with me in my own room. 

So soon as they could not be seen by any one they paid up. 

Within a few days an armed party went to their houses and shot the threein their legs. 

One man's life was despaired of for some time, but finally they allrecovered. 

This outrage was a rather late one, because the Land League latterlydecided to shoot objectionable characters only in the legs, becausethough a fuss was made at the time, if a man was killed it was soonforgotten afterwards, whereas a lame man was a lifelong testimony totheir power. 

There is a man hobbling about Castleisland to this day, who was pepperedin this comparatively humanitarian way. I am quite sure he would saysuch a comparison had proved odious. 

Judge Barry very truly said that a thatched cabin on a mountain-side wasnot much of a place of defence, and if the tenant was supposed to havepaid his rent, he would be told to run out with probably three menstanding at the door to shoot him. That was terrorism as inculcated bythe so-called friends of Ireland. 

Mr. Forster in his plucky speech to the crowd at Tullamore, said:--

'I went when I was at Tulla to the workhouse, and there saw a poorfellow lying in bed, the doctors around him, with a blue light over hisface that made me feel that the doctors were not right, when they toldme he might get over it. I felt sure that he must die, and I see thismorning that he has died. But why did that man die? He was a poor lonefarmer. I believe he had paid his rent--I believe he had committed thatcrime. He thought it his duty to pay. Fifteen or sixteen men broke intohis house in the middle of the night, pulled him out of his bed and toldhim they would punish him. He himself, lying in his death agony as itwere, told me the story. He said, "My wife went down on her knees andsaid, 'Here are five helpless children, will you kill their father?'"They took him out, they discharged a gun filled with shot into his leg, so closely that they shattered his leg. '

Now there were dozens of instances of that kind of thing in Kerry. 

Mr. Parnell started the whole vile crusade, when at Ennis he gave theadvice to shun any man who had bid for a farm from which a tenant hadbeen evicted. 

'Shun him in the street, in the shop, in the marketplace, even in theplace of worship, as if he were a leper of old. '

His words were implicitly obeyed, and outrage followed mere boycottingtill the rapid succession of crimes prevented each one having its fulleffect in horrifying civilised Europe. 

A very bad case occurred in Millstreet. 

Jeremiah Haggerty was a large farmer and shopkeeper. There was noobjection to him, except that he declined to join the Land League, forwhich his shop was boycotted, which he told me meant the loss of athousand a year to him, but the League failed to boycott his farm, because he was too good an employer. 

He was fired at coming into Millstreet, and the outrage had been soopenly planned, that it was talked of on the preceding evening in everywhisky store. 

On another occasion he was leaving Millstreet station, about a mile fromthe town, and when about twenty yards from the station he was fired atand forty grains of shot lodged in the back of his head, neck, and body. As it was twilight, a railway porter obligingly held up his lantern togive the miscreants a better view of their victim. 

He was a man of most honourable and upright character, who had workedhis way up, and he has now regained his popularity. He started as aclerk in quite a small way, and must now be worth a very large sum ofmoney. I was instrumental in getting him made a magistrate, and I havethe greatest respect for him. 

I regard this as a decidedly serious example, because of the popularityof the victim, and also because he had offended no one by word or deed. Still, there were, of course, many instances which were even moreoutrageous. 

A farmer, name of Brown, was shot at Castleisland. Two men were arrestedfor the murder, and were twice tried before Cork juries. The firstdisagreed, but the second found them guilty. 

A subscription was made up for the families of the two murderers, towhich contributions were made by the leading shopkeepers of severalneighbouring towns. For several years afterwards, Mrs. Brown could notget a man to dig her potatoes, nor a woman to milk her cows, althoughshe had tendered no evidence at the trial, and it was clearly provedthat Brown had given no cause of offence. 

But, as a Land Leaguer said to me, it was suspected that he might be ina position to do so. 

Red Indians, or any other barbarians you can think of, would not havebeen guilty of wreaking vengeance on the widow of an innocent murderedman, nor of endowing the wives of his assassins. 

Here is another murder story. 

A caretaker on an evicted farm on the property of Lord Cork, nearKanturk, was murdered for taking charge of it. 

The evicted tenant had owed eleven years' rent. 

Lord Cork had agreed to accept one year's rent in full acquittal, and sogood a landlord was he, that the neighbours of the debtor offered tomake up the amount to that sum. 

The tenant firmly declined to pay, because he said another year wouldbring him within the statute of limitations. 

So then he had to be evicted. 

Two men were clearly identified as having perpetrated the unprovokedcrime of assassinating the temporary occupant of the property, and werearrested. 

The Gladstonian Attorney-General, in order to curry popularity, declinedto challenge the jury, when the first man was put on his trial. Consequently three cousins of the prisoner were impanelled, the jurydisagreed, and the wretch bolted to America that same night. 

The second man, though less guilty, was duly tried before a challengedjury, and not only sentenced but hanged. 

He was the organiser of outrages for Cork, and his brother held thesimilar delectable office for Kerry. A good deal of the impunity withwhich crime was committed was due to the change in the jury laws, bywhich so low a class of man was summoned into the box, that criminalsbegan to consider conviction impossible. To my mind it was quite worththe consideration of the Cabinet of the time, whether trial by juryought not to be abolished in Ireland--indeed, even to-day, I can see fewreasons for its retention and many for its abolition. 

Anyhow in the bad times I am now dealing with, to send persons for trialbefore a jury was but to advertise the weakness of the law. 

Two men at Tralee were suspected of having paid their rent to me, and inspite of their assurances that they were quite innocent and had not paida farthing for two years, it was necessary for the police to escort themafter nightfall to their homes about four miles away, and to advise themnot to venture into the town for a long while after. 

One of the worst features, however, of all this terrible period was thathelpless girls and women were victims as well as men, I know of a casewhere some ruffians entered the house of a family at night, went intothe bedroom of one of the girls, seized her violently, forced her on herknees, and held her in that position while one of the gang cut off herhair with shears, and then poured a quantity of hot tar on her headbefore entering the bedroom of her sister to do the same. 

A similar fate befell two girls named Murphy merely because they weresuspected of speaking to a policeman. 

A man named Finlay was boycotted and then shot dead, and the neighboursjeered and laughed at his wife, when in her agony she was wringing herhands in grief. 

The poor woman went into the street and knelt down crying:--

'The curse of God rest upon Father ---- for being the cause of myhusband's murder. '

The priest had denounced him from the altar on the previous Sunday. 

'Carding' has always been a favourite Irish form of physicallyinsinuating to a man that he is not exactly popular. It consists of awooden board with nails in it being drawn down the naked flesh of aman's face and body. This foul torture was often heard of, and it hasbeen whispered that women and even girls have been the victims of thisatrocity. 

The merciful man is proverbially merciful to his beast, and those whoshowed mercy to neither man nor woman had none on the dumb animals ownedby their victims. 

A valuable Spanish ass belonging to Mr. M'Cowan of Tralee was saturatedwith paraffin, set on fire, and horribly burned. 

A farmer named Lambert found the shoulder of a heifer had been smashedby some blunt instrument like a hammer. I myself had a couple of cowskilled and salted. 

Indeed cattle outrages became incidents of nightly occurrence. Tenantsin all disturbed counties, besides having their houses burnt, saw theircattle so horribly mutilated that the poor dumb creatures had to bekilled to put them out of their misery. The Society for the Preventionof Cruelty to Animals would have no chance of obtaining general supportamong the lower classes in Kerry, where beasts belonging to your enemyare simply regarded as so many goods and chattels, to be as badlydamaged as possible. 

It is a curious thing that the Irish and the Italian are the two mostpoetic and most sensitive races of Europe, and also are the two whichexhibit the greatest indifference to the sufferings of dumb animals. 

The distress in Kerry, of course, in the winter of 1879 had been asgreat as in the more famous famine, and I have heard the theory advancedin a London drawing-room that physical suffering renders uneducatedpeople indifferent to any torture endured by animals. Personally, Ishould have thought a fellow feeling made us wondrous kind. 

Reverting to matters with which I had more personal connection, aninteresting episode occurred in June 1881, when The O'Donoghue moved theadjournment of the House of Commons to force a debate upon the subjectof Lord Kenmare's estate, and I wrote a letter in the _Times_ in reply, from which may be condensed the following facts:--

On the Cork estate, from 1878 to 1881, the evictions did not average onefor each year for every two hundred tenants. 

On the Limerick estate for five years there have been no evictions. 

On the Kerry estate, since he succeeded (in 1871), Lord Kenmare hasexpended Ł67, 115 on drainage, road-making, and building cottages. Theevictions have been about one in five hundred in every half year. Theabatements, allowances, and expenditure in 1878, '79, '80, and '81, exclusive of what was spent on the house and demesne, were, Ł33, 645, andI am under the mark when I say that, altogether, for these years ofdistress, Lord Kenmare spent more on his Kerry estates than he receivedout of it; yet for this, Land League meetings were held on his estate, and he was denounced in Parliament. The week that the Land Leaguecompelled Lord Kenmare to discontinue his employment to labourers, theweekly labour bill was Ł460. 

There is no need to trouble readers with any further correspondence on atopic on which no one could answer me except by abuse, which is noargument; nor will I inflict any of the letters in which Mr. Sexton wasclearly proved in the wrong when he misrepresented the case of PatMurphy of Rath. 

As an example of the state of affairs, in Millstreet--a merevillage--there were thirty cases of nocturnal raid in the month ofAugust 1881, even while it was engaging the attention of Mr. T. O. Plunkett, R. M. , Mr. French, chief of the detective department, twosub-inspectors, thirty-five constabulary, and fifty men of the 80thRegiment. 

In the _Daily Telegraph_, with reference to the murder of Gallivan, nearCastleisland, this remark appeared in a leader:--

'Horror-stricken humanity demands that an example be speedily made ofthe truculent and merciless ruffian who perpetrated this outrage. '

I quoted this in a letter the editor published, adding:--

'A few weeks after that occasion an old man named Flynn was shot withintwo miles of the place, because he paid his rent. His leg has since beenamputated. '

Then I gave the following horrible case:--

On Sunday night the Land League police went to the house of a man namedDan Dooling, who lived within a mile of Gallivan's house, and within onemile of Castleisland, and because he paid his rent on getting areduction of thirty per cent. , he was taken out and shot in the thigh. His wife, who was only three days after her confinement, pleaded formercy on this account, but these lynch law authorities were deaf to theappeal for mercy, and she did not recover the shock of the entry ofthese 'moonlight' Thugs. This man could have identified his assailants, but he did not dare. 

A good fellow called M'Auliffe, whose arm was shot off, could have donethe same. The poor chap could be seen walking about with one arm, deprived of the means of earning his bread, and no doubt moralising overthe state of the law, which would compensate him for the loss of hiscow, if he had one, but gave him nothing for the loss of his arm. 

On Friday, November 18, 1881, two tenants, named Cronin and one O'Keefe, holding land from Lord Kenmare, came into my office in Killarney. 

O'Keefe, an old man of seventy, was the spokesman, and said:--

'If you plase, sorr, we have the rint in our pocket, and would be gladto pay it if it were not for the fear that we have of being shot. '

To my lasting regret, I replied:--

'There is no danger. You must pay. '

They did, and on the Sunday week following, a band of marauders, headedby fife and drum, went to the houses of these men, and shot them in thepresence of their families. All the flesh on the lower part of O'Keefe'slegs was shot away, one of the Cronins was shot in the knee, but theother in the body. 

Everybody in the neighbourhood knew the perpetrators of this ghastlyoutrage, but said:--

'What use would there be in our telling, as the jury would acquit them, and we should be shot?'

Then came this announcement, which caused great excitement inKillarney:--

'In consequence of the difficulty of getting his rents, the Earl ofKenmare has decided to leave the country for the present. All thelabourers employed on the estate are discharged, as well as some of thegamekeepers. '

My own opinion was that he showed great wisdom in abandoning theungrateful locality where only man, debased by the Land League, wasvile. 

Outside my own folk, I found the people stiffer and less affable thanformerly; but at no time had I any difficulty in obtaining or keepingdomestic servants, though my wife got the majority from theneighbourhood of Edenburn. 

I used to sit, on and off, on the bench as regularly as most of theother magistrates, whenever, indeed, my business permitted me to do so, and to my face no one ventured to abuse me. 

Quite late in the bad times when I wanted a decree of ejectment againsta fellow, the chairman, desiring to make peace, explained that hishesitation was entirely on my account, to save me from danger. 

I replied that I had not quailed all those years, and I was too old tobegin; so I had my decree, and that fellow's threats were ascontemptuously treated as all the rest. 

The Bank had a decree against a tenant of mine, and, having sold himout, entered into possession and put in a caretaker. 

He was in occupation about eight hours, when he grew so frightened thathe ran away. The tenant then went back into possession as a caretaker, whom nobody dared dislodge, and he promptly went to the Tralee Board ofGuardians to obtain a pound a week as an evicted tenant. 

At that time two-thirds of the poor-rate was paid by the landlord. Whenthe tenancy was over Ł4 a year, they had to allow each tenant half therate he paid; when it was under this sum, they had to pay the whole ofit, and, of course, all the rates for land in their own occupation. 

Thus the Board of Guardians were utilising the money of the landlords inorder to remunerate the men who were robbing them of their property. 

If a tenant--who generally had some money--was evicted, a notice wasserved on the relieving officer to provide him with a conveyance, inwhich he was taken to the poorhouse; but if a farmer evicted alabourer--who had, perhaps, nothing but the suit of clothes in which hestood up--he was allowed to walk to the poorhouse as best he might, and, when he got there, he obtained no special relief. 

It is true that the passing of the Habeas Corpus Suspension Act offeredanother opportunity to the Government for striking a severe blow, but itwas frittered away, although, before it became law, many of the leadersof disorder left the country, dreading its provisions. 

Instead, the isolated arrests revealed that the criminals were providedwith special accommodation and superior fare. 

A district officer, asked by Lord Spencer for his views on the CoercionAct, replied:--

'The only coercion I can perceive, your Excellency, is that peopleaccustomed to live on potatoes and milk are forced to feed on salmon andwine. '

The last outrage I intend to mention in this chapter was a veryremarkable one. 

There was a contest for the chairmanship of the Tralee Board ofGuardians. The Land League put forward a candidate who was at the timean inmate of Kilmainham gaol. The landlords, who at this earlier stagestill had some power, conceived that the residence of the Home Rulerwould not facilitate his control over the Board, and chose a candidatewhose abode was not only more adjacent, but whose movements wereunfettered. 

The voting was even, until Mr. A. E. Herbert came into the room and gavehis casting vote against the involuntary tenant of the Kilmainhamhostelry. For this he was murdered three days later, and by the crimethey hoped to ensure that on the next occasion the landlords wouldabstain from voting at all. 

That murder of Mr. Arthur Herbert on his return from Petty Sessions atCastleisland was one of the worst, and as an exhibition of infernalhatred and vengeance it transcended the murders of Lord Mountmorres andLord Leitrim. It cannot be denied that Mr. Herbert committed acts of aharsh and overbearing character. He was a turbulent, headstrong man, brave to rashness and foolhardiness, and too fond of proclaiming hiscontempt for the people by whom he was surrounded. As a magistrate, sitting at Brosna Petty Sessions, he expressed his regret that he wasnot in command of a force when a riot occurred in that village, when hewould have 'skivered the people with buckshot, ' language brought underthe notice of the Lord Chancellor and the House of Commons. 

He was the son of a clergyman, and lived at Killeentierna House with hismother, a venerable old lady over eighty, he being himself forty-five. His income was estimated at about four hundred a year, and as hisrelations with tenantry were not harmonious, he never went out without asix-chambered revolver in his pocket. Physically he was veryrobust--over five feet ten in height, and very corpulent. In his ownneighbourhood he always was known as 'Mr. Arthur. '

Leaving Castleisland about five in the afternoon, he was accompanied forabout a mile by the head constable, who then turned back. Mr. Herberthad not proceeded a quarter of a mile further when he was felled by theassassins. The spot chosen was singularly open, no shelter being visiblefor some distance. Several shots were heard by a labourer at work in aquarry, and when he came up he found Mr. Herbert lying on his face inthe road, quite dead, the earth about him being covered with pools ofblood. The body was almost riddled with shot and bullets. 

That night a further illustration of the vindictive ferocity of theoutrage was given. The lawn in front of Killeentierna was patrolledregularly by some of the large body of police which at once occupied thehouse. On this lawn eleven lambs were grazing. At half-past two thesewere seen by the police to be all right. At daybreak the eleven werefound stabbed with pitchforks--nine of them killed outright, and twowounded to death. This act, as wretched as it was daring, added a newhorror to the crime. 

Mr. Herbert's murder was received with such exuberant delight in Kerrythat my steward said to me:--

'You would think, sir, that rent was abolished and the duty taken offwhisky. '

Constabulary had for a long while to be told off to prevent his gravebeing desecrated. 

That is a pretty tough outrage for optimistic philanthropists toconsider when they are addicted to announcing how far our generationshave progressed from barbarism. 

The price of blood in Kerry was not high. For example, the men thatmurdered FitzMaurice were paid Ł5 for the job, and they had never seenhim before. His family had to be under police protection for five years, and I managed to get Ł1000 subscribed for them in England, Mr. Froudetaking an enthusiastic and generous interest in a very sad case. Thevictim left two daughters, who both married policemen. 

One young and cheery Kerry landlord was very proud, about 1886, at theprice of forty shillings being offered for his life by the Land League, whereas nearly all the others were only valued at half a sovereignapiece. 

As a matter of fact, almost any one could have been shot at Castleislandif a sovereign were offered, for they cared no more for human life thanfor that of a rat. Parnell himself would have been shot by any one of acouple of dozen fellows willing to earn a dishonest living if afive-pound note had been locally put upon his head. A patrioticphilanthropist, destitute of the bowels of compassion and of everydictate of humanity, might have saved a great deal of undeservedsuffering if he had made this donation towards his 'removal'--a prettyeuphemism of Land League coinage. 

Most of that generation are dead, in gaol, or have emigrated. It wouldtake the deuce of a big sum to tempt any Castleislander to-day to commitmurder, except under provocation, and the same improvement is observableall over Ireland. I believe a hundred pounds might be put on the head ofthe least popular agent or landlord, and he might walk unscathed withoutpolice protection. 

All that has been set forth in this chapter might be regarded as a heavyindictment of crime and disorder, but I cannot avoid adding oneconfirmatory piece of evidence, as eloquent as it is accurate. This isthe fearful description of the state of Kerry which appears in JudgeO'Brien's charge to the Grand Jury at the Assizes, founded, of course, on the report of outrages submitted to him. It is impossible to guess inwhat stronger words his opinions would have been expressed if the totalnumber of outrages committed had been laid before him; but it is wellknown that only a few of those committed were reported, as, if thecriminals were taken up and identified, the victims would be likely tobe shot in revenge, while the guilty persons, tried by a sympathisingjury, would obtain acquittal and popular advertisement. 

The charge was as follows:--

'COLONEL CROSBIE AND GENTLEMEN OF THE GRAND JURY OF KERRY--I requestedyour permission to defer any observations I was about to make to you, inorder that I might have an opportunity of examining certain returnswhich had been made to me containing materials for forming a judgmentupon the state of things in this county of which I was put in possessionupon my arrival, and I was desirous of being afforded an opportunity ofexamining these materials to try if I could discern whether, in theconsiderable lapse of time that has happened since the last Assizes, Icould see any reason to conclude that an improvement had taken place inthe state of things that has now so long existed in the County of Kerry, and other counties in the south of Ireland, to try if I could discernwhether lapse of time itself, the weariness of that state of things, ifthe law and influences that lead persons to avoid violations of the law, or to follow the pursuits of industry, had led in the end to anyfavourable change in the state of things; but I grieve to say that it isnot in my power, unfortunately, to announce that any change has takenplace. On the contrary, all the means of information that I possess leadto the unhappy conclusion that there is no improvement, but that, on thecontrary, there exists, even at this moment, a most extraordinary stateof things--a state of things of an unprecedented description--nothingshort, in fact, of a state of open war with all forms of authority, andeven, I may say without exaggeration, with the necessary institutions ofcivilised life. 

'These returns present a picture of the County Kerry such as can hardlybe found in any country that has passed the confines of natural societyand entered upon the duties and relations, and acknowledged theobligations, of civilised life. The law is defeated--perhaps I shouldrather say, has ceased to exist! Houses are attacked by night and day, even the midnight terror yielding to the noonday anxiety of crime!Person and life are assailed! The terrified inmates are wholly unable todo anything to protect themselves, and a state of terror and lawlessnessprevails everywhere. Even some persons who possess means of informationthat are not open to me, profess to discern in the signs of publicfeeling, in the views of some hope and some fear, the expectation ofsomething about to happen, something reaching far beyond partial, orlocal, or even agrarian, disturbance, and calculated to create a greaterdegree of alarm than anything we have witnessed, or anything that hashappened. 

'When I come to compare the official returns of crime with those of thepreceding period, I find that the total number of offences in thiscounty since the last Assizes is somewhat less in number, evenconsiderably less in number, than in the corresponding or the precedingperiod of the former years. But the diminution of number affords noassurance or ground of improvement at all, because I find that thediminution is accounted for entirely in the class of offences thatacknowledges to some extent the power and influence of the law, namely, in threatening letters and notices, while the amount of open and actualcrime is greater than it was in the former period, showing that there isan increased confidence in impunity, and that menace has given place tothe deed. Within not more than ten days from the time that I am nowspeaking, not less than four examples of midnight invasion of houses inthis county have occurred, accompanied with all the usual incidents ofdisguises and arms, and the firing of shots, and violence threatened orcommitted; in one instance the outrage having been committed upon theresidence of a magistrate of this county, a man living with his familyin his home, in the supposed delusive security of domestic life, of law, and respect for social station; and in another instance committed upon ahumble man, and encountered, I am glad to say, in that instance, with abrave resistance, giving an example of courage which, if it were widelyimitated, many of the evils that this country suffers from would nolonger exist. 

'I need not dwell upon the most aggravated instance of all which thiscalendar of crime presents--one that is quite recent, and within thememory of you all--the murder of Cornelius Murphy, a humble man, but oneenjoying apparently the confidence and respect of all his neighbours, who had done no harm to any person, who was not conscious of anyoffence, whose house was invaded at a still early hour of the evening, and before the daylight had departed, by a band of men that is shown tohave traversed a considerable distance of country, giving opportunitiesof recognition to many, and with hardly the pretext of an offence on hispart, and in reality with the object of private plunder or privatehostility--one of those motives that always take advantage of a state ofdisturbance in order to gratify private ends--slain in his own house inthe presence of his own family. Certain persons, it would appear, havebeen arrested on a charge of complicity with this crime, and it may bethat this cruel and wicked crime may be the means of discovering othercrimes, and of leading in the end to the detection, if not to theconviction, of persons who have been connected in them, and those whorest in the supposed confidence of impunity may find the spell broken, may find the light of information to reach them, and may find in the endthat the law will be able to prevail; because it must be in theexperience of many of you that it is unhappily in the power of a fewpersons who engage in this system of nightly invasion of houses tomultiply themselves, apparently by means of terror and intimidation, although at the same time there can be no doubt that, on account ofinterval of distances, and for many such reasons, there must be manysuch combinations in this country, acting entirely independent of eachother. 

'No person can be at a loss to understand the misery and suffering thatarises from a state of crime; but perhaps all persons in the communitydo not equally understand one form of consequence to material prosperitythat results from it. I have before me a document that contains mostterribly significant evidence of mischief, alike to all classes of thecommunity, that results from crime and a state of social disturbance. Ihave a return of malicious injuries which form the subject ofpresentment at these Assizes, in number, I understand, exceeding allformer precedent. There are no less than eighty-six presentments, representing all forms of wicked outrage upon property, a tempest--Imight say without exaggeration, a tempest--of violence and crime thathas swept over a considerable portion of this county. The claims amountto Ł2700, with the result that the Grand Jury had presented upon acertain part of this county Ł1250, exercising apparently the greatestcare and discrimination in reducing the amount of the claims, and thisŁ1250 was not put upon the whole county, but on certain parts of thecounty, and the amount at the very least aggravated in a most seriousdegree the weight of taxation that falls upon the ratepayers of theCounty Kerry, deepening the difficulties that all classes alike mustexperience from the depression of the times, and from the other burdensthey have to meet in providing against the demands that are made uponthem. 

'But, of course, you can easily understand that these things do not atall give you any idea of other forms of material injury that arise fromcrime and disturbance, in the loss of employment and the discouragementof capital, the injury to trade, and the multiplied consequences of allkinds detrimental to the community that arise from insecurity topersonal property and life. And to all those evils we have to addanother, and perhaps the worst of all--that of which you are allconscious, of which experience and observation reaches you every day inall the forms of social life--a system of unseen terrorism, a system ofterror and tyranny that the well-disposed class of the community oughtto detest and abhor, and in reference to which, on all sides, I haveheard, in this county and other counties, one universal expression ofdesire--that some means should be found to put an end to it. 

'I possess no power myself to effect this state of things, and I cannotsay that in the relation to the law which you fill as members of theGrand Jury, or in any other relation to the law, you possess the meansto effect it. The duty of providing against so great an evil existing inthe community--the duty and the obligation rests with others. My duty issimply confined to representing to you the state of things that exists, and, indeed, in that respect I know that I am doing what is entirelyunnecessary, for the state of the County Kerry now, and for a period offive or six years, in all its essential features, is known far beyondthe limits of the county, to every single person in the country. I willmerely make use of one general observation--that I by no means share inthe opinion that has been expressed as to the inability to deal withthis state of things. On the contrary, I entertain the most perfectconfidence that it is in the power of those who are intrusted with theduty of maintaining the public peace to re-establish order and law andpeace in this county. And as my duty is confined to representing thatstate of things, that duty does not carry me to indicate to those onwhom the responsibility rests the means to attain that object. '

CHAPTER XX

THE EDENBURN OUTRAGE

In the early part of the winter of 1884, so bad did the state of Kerrybecome, and so menacing was the attitude of the Land Leaguers towardsmyself, that I felt I had no right to endanger the lives of my wife anddaughters by any longer permitting them to reside at Edenburn. 

In all those years, from 1878 to 1884, be it noted that I gave moreemployment in Kerry than any one man, a fact which has been testified toby different parish priests, but at the same time I was agent for agreat many landlords, and tried my level best to get in rents for myemployers. 

For this cause my life had been repeatedly threatened, and now, inNovember 1884, dynamite was put to my house, the back of it being badlyblown up. There were sixteen individuals in the house, mostly women andchildren, and an attempt was therefore made to murder them all in theeffort to take the life of one individual they were afraid to meet inthe open. 

The house was repaired and I received compensation in due course fromthe County, but my family did not think after what had occurred thatEdenburn was a desirable place of residence. So I henceforth residedmuch in London, and therefore spent a great deal less money in Kerry. 

Perhaps, however, I had better be a little more diffuse about what wasknown all over the British Isles as the Edenburn Outrage, but the bulkof this chapter will be drawn from observations by members of my familyand newspaper accounts, for the episode left considerably lessimpression on my mind than it did on that of my womenfolk, and indeed onthe public, at the time. 

To show how matters stood, one of my daughters reminds me that I gaveher a very neat revolver as a present, and that whenever she came backfrom school she always slept with it under her pillow. Moreover, sherecollects that the customary Sunday afternoon pursuit was to haverevolver practice at the garden gate. 

There had been several episodes of an ugly nature; for example, one ofmy sons competing in some sports at Tralee was advised to make an excuseand to go home separately from the womenfolk. 

He took the hint, and my wife with the governess and several childrenwent back without him in the waggonette. About a mile and a half fromthe town, just where the horses had to walk up a steep hill, a number ofmen with bludgeons and sticks came out of a ditch, peered into the trap, and seeing it contained nothing but women and children let it pass onwith a grunt of disgust, whilst they trudged back to Tralee. 

One of my daughters, years after, on being taken in to dinner in London, was asked by her companion if she was any relation of mine. 

She having confessed the fact--one I hope in no way detrimental, thoughI say so, perhaps, who should not--he mentioned that he had been to amost cheery dance at Edenburn, which had made a great impression on hismind, because for seven miles along the road by which he and his friendsdrove there were pickets of constabulary, and the hall table was piledso full with the revolvers brought by the guests, that all the hats andcoats had to be taken to the smoking-room. 

It may be as well to again mention that my wife during the very worstperiods had never any difficulty in keeping or obtaining domesticservants. No doubt the maids liked having two or three stalwartconstables always hanging about the place, and capital odd job men theymade. 

A constable neatly humbugged a footman, and I may here mention theincident, though it is subsequent to the episode of this chapter. 

One house we took in London was in Glendower Place, and when theservants arrived, my wife found that the footman's face was covered withsticking-plaster. He was a regular gossoon, though shaped like a finespecimen of the pampered menials who condescend to open the front doorof large mansions to their betters. 

A constable had hoaxed him into believing that he could never walk inthe London streets without using firearms, and having advised him tolearn to do so, the idiot put the weapon against his cheek, and thefirst kick had knocked away a voluminous portion of his countenance. 

At the end of November 1884, we were packing up to leave, and all thebig cases were in the stable-yard ready to be carted away. There werefive policemen at the time in the house, and two of them were on sentryduty all through the night. 

None of us had had good nights for some time past, but on the evening ofNovember 29th I came back from the meeting of the Board of Guardians atListowel, and said to my wife as we sat down to dinner:--

'After all, we are starting for England to-morrow morning without anynecessity, for I do believe the country is beginning to settle down. '

This is the only occasion on which I ever ventured on a cheerfulprophecy since Ireland came under the baneful spell of Mr. Gladstone, and it was the most foolish remark I ever made. 

That night came the explosion, but I prefer to let the press tell thetale. 

The _Manchester Guardian_ relates:--

'The explosive matter was placed under an area in the basement story, dynamite being the agent employed for the outrage. A large aperture wasmade in the wall, which is three feet thick. Several large rents runningto the top have been made, and it now presents a most dilapidatedappearance. The ground-floor, where the explosion occurred, was used asa larder, and everything in it was smashed to pieces, the glasswindow-frames and shutters being shivered into atoms. On the threestories above it, the explosion produced a similar effect. To the rightof it, one of Mr. Hussey's daughters was sleeping, and the window of herroom was entirely destroyed. Mr. J. E. Hussey, J. P. , slept in anotherroom about thirty feet from the scene of the explosion, and his windowand room fared similarly. The butler slept in a small room on thebasement, which was completely wrecked, the windows being shattered topieces, the lamp and toilet broken, and the greater part of the ceilingthrown on him in the bed. The length of the house is about fifty yards, and the windows in the back, numbering twenty-six, have been altogetherdestroyed. Mr. S. M. Hussey and his wife slept in the front, and theywere much affected by the explosion. Three policemen who had beenstationed in the house for the past couple of years slept on aground-floor in front. The coach-house and stables near the house wereconsiderably damaged. In the garden two greenhouses, one about 120 yardsaway, and the other fully 150, were injured, the greater portion of theglass being broken and the roofs shaken. In several houses at longdistances the shock was plainly felt. The dwelling-house subsequentlypresented a very wrecked appearance. On looking at the back of it, thereare several rents or cracks to be seen in the solid masonry, and theslates are shaken and displaced. Everything shows the terrific force ofthe explosion. In the yard a large slate-house was much damaged, theslates being displaced and the roof shaken and cracked. A large stonewas found here, having been blown from the dwelling-house. '

From the _Times_ may be culled these additional particulars:

'There is a fissure some inches wide in the main wall from the ground tothe roof, and a little more force would have effected the evident objectof making the residence of the obnoxious agent a heap of ruins. Thedamage done is estimated at from Ł2000 to Ł3000, but this is only arough conjecture. '

The _Cork Constitutional_ throws further light in a somewhat badlyexpressed article:--

'The most extraordinary circumstance connected with the outrage is thesecrecy and stealth which must have been resorted to in order to avoiddetection. It was well known in the neighbourhood that not alone werethree policemen constantly at Edenburn for Mr. Hussey's protection, butthat a number of dogs were also kept on the premises, and it is, therefore, astonishing the care and caution which must have beenresorted to in order to successfully lay and explode the destructivematerial. Some idea of the force of the explosion as well as thestability of the building which resisted it in a measure, may begathered from the fact that it was distinctly heard in the town ofCastleisland four miles away. Mr. R. Roche, J. P. , who lives a mile fromEdenburn, also distinctly heard the explosion, which he describes asresembling in sound that caused by the fall of a huge tree in closeproximity. Those who were at Edenburn at the time state that betweenfour and half-past four a low rumbling noise, followed by a sharpreport, was heard. The house trembled and shook to its foundations. Theinmates, some of whom were only awakened by the shock, were seized withan indescribable terror. All the windows were smashed to atoms, thefurniture and fixtures in the interior were rattled, and some lighterarticles disturbed from their position. The suddenness of the alarm, andthe darkness of the night, coupled with an indefinite idea as to thenature and extent of the explosion, made the occupants of the houseafraid to stir, and it was not until some servants living adjacentarrived that the consternation caused in the household subsidedsufficiently to enable them to examine the house, and judge of thenarrow escape they had had from a violent and horrible death. '

The consternation most decidedly did not spread to the master andmistress of the establishment. The _Kerry Sentinel_ quickly had anallusion to 'a report that Mr. Hussey turned into bed after the outragewith one of his laconic jokes--that he should be called when the nextexplosion occurred. '

As a matter of fact what I did say was:-"My dear, we can have a quietnight at last, for the scoundrels won't bother us again beforebreakfast. "

And I can solemnly testify that within ten minutes of that observation Iwas fast asleep, and never woke till I was called. 

But perhaps the best impression of what occurred can be obtained fromthe recollection of my daughter Florence, now Mrs. Nicoll, who was aninmate of Edenburn at the time. 

'I was awakened by a terrific noise, which to my sleepy wits conveyedthe impression that the roof had fallen in. It was then between threeand four in the morning. I lit a candle and ran out into the passagewhere were congregating my family in night attire. My father wasperfectly calm. 

'"Dynamite and badly managed, " was his laconic explanation. We all askedeach other if we were hurt, and began to be alarmed about my brotherJohn, who, however, put in an appearance in a singularly attenuatednightshirt, with a candle in one hand and a revolver in the other, withwhich he was rubbing his sleepy eyes. 

'"Singular time of night, John, to try chemical experiments without ourpermission, is it not?" said my father. 

'Then John and my mother went downstairs to inspect the premises; of theback windows, thirty-four in number, there was not a bit of glass as bigas a threepenny piece left. Our brougham was in the yard; the windownext the explosion was intact, but the one on the further side was blownto smithereens. 

'The servants were very scared, and one maid having rushed straight to asitting-room, was there found hysterically embracing a sofa cushion. 

'We received one odd claim for compensation. An old woman living half amile off complained that the force of the explosion had knocked some ofthe plaster off the wall, and that it had fallen into a pan full ofmilk, spoiling it. 

'Whilst we were all chattering about the outrage, father said:--

'"Don't be uneasy about a mere dynamite explosion; it's like anIrishman's pig, you want it to go one way and it invariably goes in theother. "

'And with that he went off to bed again, with the remark about having aquiet night which he has mentioned earlier in this chapter. 

'The only other thing which I now recall is, that a detachment of theBuffs in the neighbourhood had found us the only people to entertainthem. 

'On being told that Edenburn had been blown up, one of them said:--

'"They were the only neighbours we had to talk to, and the brutes wouldnot leave us them as a convenience. "'

The Cork correspondent of the _Times_ wrote:--

'Among the general body of the people of Kerry, the news of the attemptto blow up Mr. Hussey's house at Edenburn caused comparatively littleexcitement. In the County Club at Tralee, the announcement was receivedwith something like a panic. Hitherto, persons who considered themselvesin danger were careful to be within their homes before darkness had setin, and when going abroad had a following of police for theirprotection. Now it is shown that their houses may prove but a sorryshelter, even when a protective force of police is about, and it is nowonder that, with the terrible example furnished in this instance of thedaring of those who commit foul crimes, the class against whom theoutrages are directed should be filled with fears for the future. Thepeople generally show but small interest in the occurrence. 

'The attempt to blow up Mr. Hussey's dwelling is the first of its kindin Kerry, and the third that has been made in Ireland. Within the pastfew years the districts of Castleisland and Tralee have beendistinguished for the number and ferocity of the outrages that werecommitted there. '

I am also tempted to quote from the 'Leader' in the _Times_ on theoutrage:--

'Mr. Hussey has a reputation, not confined to Ireland, as an able, fearless, and vigorous land agent, the best type of a much abused classof men who have endured contumely and faced dangers, by day and night, in order to protect the rights of property intrusted to them. 

'It appears that, owing to the disturbed state of the locality, heintended to leave it for the winter; and this probably being known tohis enemies, they made an effort to destroy him before he got beyondtheir reach. He, at all events, seems to have been under the spell of nopleasing illusion as to the supposed tranquillity and the reign oforder. On the contrary, he is alleged to have stated that more outragesthan ever are committed, and that but for the deterrent force employedby the Government, there would be no living in the country, . .. This isthe opinion of the majority of Englishmen. They are not all satisfiedthat the spirit of lawlessness and disorder is rooted out; and they willfind only too strong confirmation of their doubts in the recklessviolence of the National Press, and in the attempt--marked by novelfeatures of atrocity--to destroy Mr. Hussey's household. '

As for the National Press, it indulged in an ecstasy of enthusiasm overthe perpetration, combined with intense disgust "at the miscarriage ofjustice" of my having escaped without hurt or more than very temporaryinconvenience. On my departure, one eloquent writer compared me to'Macduff taking his babes and bandboxes to England, ' a choice simile Ihave always appreciated. 

The _United Ireland_ of December 6, 1884, in a characteristicleaderette, headed 'A very suspicious affair, ' observes:--

'We should like to know by what right the newspapers speak of the affairas "a dynamite outrage"? A very curious surmise has been put forwardlocally, namely, that the house had been stricken by lightning. Theshattering of a building by lightning is by no means phenomenal, and theabsence of all trace of any terrestrial explosive agency, gives colourto the hypothesis that the destruction was due to meteorologicalcauses. '

With one last quotation I cease to draw upon what may be termed outsidecontributions, and it is one which gratified me at the time. 

It is taken from the _Cork Examiner_ of December 12, 1884:--

'Dear Sir, --Authoritative statements having been made in the Press andelsewhere, that some persons living in Mr. Hussey's immediateneighbourhood must have been the perpetrators of the horrible outrage, or, at least, must have given active and guilty assistance to theprincipal parties concerned in it; now we, the undersigned, tenants onthe property, and living in the closest proximity to Edenburn House anddemesne, take this opportunity of declaring in the most public andsolemn manner that neither directly nor indirectly, by word or deed, bycounsel or approval, had we any participation in the tragic disaster ofNovember 28. The relations hitherto existing between Mr. Hussey and ushave ever been of the most friendly character. As a landlord, hisdealings with us were such as gave unqualified satisfaction and weremarked by justice, impartiality, and very great indulgence. As aneighbour he was extremely kind and obliging, ready whenever applied to, to help us, as far as he was able, in every difficulty or trial in whichwe might be placed. The bare suspicion, therefore, of being ever soremotely connected with the recent explosion, is, to us, a source of thedeepest pain, a suspicion we repudiate with honest indignation. Furthermore, the singular charity, benevolence, and amiability of Mrs. Hussey are long and intimately known to us. We witness almost daily herbountiful treatment of the poor, and tender care of the sick and infirm. Her ears never refuse to listen with sympathy to every tale of distress, nor will she hesitate with her own hands to wash and dress the festeringwounds and sores of those who flock to her from all the surroundingparishes. With such knowledge as this, we should indeed be worse thanfiends did we raise a hand against the Hussey family, or engage in anyenterprise that would necessitate their departure from among us:--

 'Richard Fitzgerald. Denis Daly. John Reynolds. Cornelius Daly. William Hogan. Darby Leary. John Mason. Jeremiah Dinan. J. O'connell. John Neligan. Daniel Neill. John Daly. Thomas Connor. Jeremiah Connor. Thomas Shanahen. Michael Moynihar. Widow Aherne. James O'sullivan. John M'elligott. Henry Gentleman. '

As for those really concerned, people tell me that the three implicatedin the dynamite business are all dead in America, and if the informationis accurate no local person was connected with the explosion, though themiscreants were, of course, housed in the immediate vicinity. 

There was one delicious incident. 

The local branch of the Land League at Castleisland refused to pay anyreward to the dynamiters because we had not been killed, and the leadingmiscreant actually fired at the treasurer. Eventually the passages toAmerica of all the triumvirate were paid, and they thought it discreetto quit the country, cursing their own stingy executive even more deeplythan they blasphemed against the Law and execrated me. 

A man from the neighbourhood subsequently wrote to me from London thathe could tell me who perpetrated the Edenburn outrage. 

I told him to call on me at the Union Club, of which I was then amember, and informed him--his name was O'Brien--I would arrange with theHome Office, in the event of his information being valuable, that heshould get a reward. 

He replied that his life was in danger in London from another Fenian. 

I went to the Home Office and saw Mr. Jenkinson on the subject. He askedme to send O'Brien down to him and he would settle matters, adding thathe had reason for believing that the story of threats from anotherscoundrel was true. 

I saw O'Brien and told him to call on Mr. Jenkinson. 

He answered that he would go, but he never did, and Mr. Jenkinsonsubsequently told me that the Land League scented he was going to provea troublesome informer, so they practically outbid the Government bypaying O'Brien a large sum, which was handed to him on the steamer as itwas starting for America. 

From that time, until I have been recalling the incidents of theexplosion for this book, I have never given a thought to the affair andnot mentioned it half a dozen times in the twenty years that haveelapsed. 

CHAPTER XXI

MORE ATROCITIES AND LAND CRIMES

I brought my family back to Kerry in the following summer, and after Ihad rebuilt Edenburn I lived there until I gave it to my elder son, whohas it to this day and resides there in peace. 

Matters were very different to that state of idyllic simplicity in thecritical times on which I am still dwelling. 

One night, while in London, I was at the House of Commons, and theLondon correspondent of the _Freeman_, being presumably extremely shortof what he would term 'copy, ' he proceeded to make observations about meafter this fashion:--

'Over here Mr. Hussey is something of a fish out of water. It would behazardous to say that if he was to begin his career as an agent again hewould eschew the system that has made him famous, but his present frameof mind is unquestionably one of doubt as to whether, after all, thegame was worth the candle. '

That young man will go far as a writer of fiction. 

I received, among more pleasant welcomes on my return to my native land, the following delightful blast of vituperation from the _Irish Citizen_, and beg to tender the unknown author my profound thanks for thediversion his ink-slinging afforded me:--

'Here is something about a man who ought to have been murdered any daysince 1879--indeed we don't know that he should have been let live evenup to that date, and as for his family, their translation to the upperregions by means of a simple charge of dynamite, which nobody of anysense or importance would even think of condemning, has been mostunaccountably deferred to the present year. This man is Mr. S. M. Hussey, the miasma of whose breath, according to a well-informed murder organ inDublin, poisons one-half of the kingdom of Kerry. Let any man read thespeeches delivered in Upper Sackville Street, and the articles in_United Ireland_ against Mr. Hussey, and he must ask why the fiendincarnate has not been murdered long since. The infamy of persistentlyturning hatred on a man like Mr. Hussey, and then escaping theconsequences of having thereby murdered him, has no parallel in anycountry in the world. Inciting to murder is practically reduced to ascience in Ireland. That Mr. Hussey has not been murdered years ago isnot the fault of the scientist, but the watchfulness of the police. '

My experience while in England had been that few people I met reallyappreciated what boycotting was like, so how are my readers of twentyyears afterwards to do so? Yet when I went back to Ireland, it seemed tome even more cruel than when I had grown comparatively accustomed bysheer proximity to it. 

Mr. Parnell had himself given the order in a public speech:--

'Shun the man who bids for a farm from which a tenant has been evicted, shun him in the street, in the shop, in the marketplace, even in theplace of worship, as if he were a leper of old. '

This was done with the thoroughness which characterises Irishmen whenback-sliding into unimaginable cruelties. Should a boycotted man enterchapel, the whole congregation rose as with one accord and left himalone in the building. Considering the sensitive and pious dispositionof the average Irishman, such ostracism was even more poignant than itwould be to an Englishman. 

Only two families in Kerry, possibly in Munster, at Christmas 1885, hadthe courage to resist the National League police, commonly calledmoonlighters. These two were the Curtins and the Doyles. The Curtins hadto be under constant police protection, were insulted wherever theywent, and their murdered father was openly called 'the murderer. ' As forthe Doyles, the Board of Guardians was urged to harass his unfortunatechildren, who were both deaf and dumb. 

The same Board of Guardians was most lavish in its relief to any manevicted for declining to pay his rent. In one case they gave a manfifteen shillings a week--or treble the ordinary out-of-door relief--forover six years. 

Sir James Stephen, a man of acute discriminations, who has done morejustice to the Irish problem than any one else, wrote:--

'The great difficulty the Land League and the National League have hadto contend with is that of hindering the neighbouring farmers, peasants, and labourers from frustrating the strike against rent by taking upvacant farms, however they came to be vacant. Boycotting never succeededunless crime was at its back. The Crimes Act cut the ground from underthe feet of the boycotters, not so much by its direct prohibitions ofthe practice as by making it unsafe to commit outrages in enforcing thelaw of the League. The Land League and the National League were nothingelse but screens for secret societies whose work was to enforce theLeague decrees by outrage and murder. '

Whenever the 'History of Modern Ireland' comes to be written, thatglowing outburst of truth ought to be quoted. 

There were some evictions carried out at Farranfore on the estate ofLord Kenmare, by the sub-sheriff, Mr. Harnett, and a force of militaryand police numbering about one hundred and thirty. 

During the eviction of one Daly, horns were blown and the chapel bellset ringing. These appeals drew about three thousand people to theplace, who groaned and threw some stones, besides growing so menacingthat the Riot Act had to be read, upon which the whole crowd moved off. 

This brought a characteristic effusion from _United Ireland_:--

'We remember the time when Kerry was a county as quiet as the grave, when its member, Henry A. Herbert, in the debate on the Westminster Actof 1871, was able to rise in his place and boast that in purely Celticcounties like his there was no crime, and that agrarian outrages wasconfined to districts infused with English blood, like Meath andTipperary. What has changed it? Principally the malpractices of a coupleof agents ruling over half its area, whose bloated rentals grow swollenunder their hands with the sweat of dumb and hopeless possessors. '

Whatever else he possessed, that writer had not one vestige of truthwith which to cover the indecency of his misrepresentations. 

He did not mention that Mr. Matthew Harris, a Member for Galway, hadpublicly observed that if the tenant farmers of Ireland shot downlandlords as partridges are shot in the month of September, he wouldnever say a word against them. 

It is a fact that the convulsion of horror at the murder of LordFrederick Cavendish alone prevented an organised campaign for the'removal' of Irish landlords on a systematic and wholesale scale. 

By the way, according to his son, it was quite by chance that ProfessorMahaffy--that illustrious ornament of Trinity College--was not alsomurdered. He had intended to walk over with poor Mr. Burke after theentry of the Viceroy and Chief Secretary, but he was detained by anundergraduate and so found it too late to catch the doomed victim beforehe started. Had he walked with them, it is questionable if the murdererswould have attacked three men: on the other hand, he might, of course, have been added to the slain. 

There was a meeting of Lord Kenmare's and Mr. Herbert of Muckross'stenants at Killarney addressed by Mr. Sheehan, M. P. , who advised them, as the landlords refused 70 per cent, only to offer 50 per cent. , andnothing at all in March (1887), as by that time the new Irish Parliamentwould have allotted the land free to the present holders, without anycompensation to the landlords. 

Despite the efforts of traitors on both sides of the Channel, that IrishParliament has not yet been summoned. 

The parish priest, Mr. Sheehy, stopped the Limerick hunting, and so tookŁ24, 000 a year out of the pockets of the very poor. That man did moreharm than the landlords, who alone gave the poor work, and there is nodoubt that many of the worst crimes were instigated and indirectlysuggested from the altar. 

At this point I want to interpose with one word to the reader to beg himnot to regard this as either a connected narrative of crime, much less aregular essay with proper deductions--the trimmings to the joint--butonly a series of observations as I recall events which impressed me, andwhich I think may come home with some force to a happier generation thatknew neither Parnellism nor crime. To write a consecutive and connectedhistory of these atrocities would be to compile a volume of horrors. Iprefer to give a few recollections of outrages, and to let the directsimplicity of these terrible reminiscences impress those who have bowelsof compassion. 

A gentleman named Nield was killed in Mayo, simply because he wasmistaken for my son Maurice. This was in broad daylight, in the town ofCharlestown. It was raining hard at the time--a thing so common inIreland that no one mentions it any more than they do the fact of thedaily paper appearing each morning--and the unfortunate victim had anumbrella up, so the mob could not see his face. They shouted, 'Here'sHussey, ' and tried to pull him off the car, but the parish prieststopped this. However, before he could reduce the villains to the fearof the Church, which does affect them more than the fear of the Law, they gave poor Nield a blow on the head, and, though he lived for sixmonths, he never recovered. 

Another time, when returning to his house in Mayo from Ballyhaunis, on adark night, my son Maurice found a wall built, about eighteen incheshigh, across the road, for the express purpose of upsetting him. It wasonly by the grace of God--as they say in Kerry--and his own carefuldriving, that he was preserved. 

In those same Land League times, my son was a prominent gentleman rider. At Abbeyfeale races he rode in a green jacket and won the race, whichproduced a lot of enthusiasm, the crowd not knowing who it was sportingthe popular colour. They only heard it was my son after he had left thecourse, whereupon a mob rushed to the station, and the police had tostand four deep outside the carriage window to protect him, to saynothing of an extra guard at the station gates. 

The cordiality of my fellow-countrymen also provided me with anotherdisturbed night at Aghadoe, which I had leased from Lord Headley. 

To quiet the apprehensions of my family, and also to relieve the mind ofthe D. I. From anxiety about my tough old self, there were always fivepolice in the house, and two on sentry duty all night. 

On this particular date, about two o'clock in the morning, we werearoused by hearing shots fired in the wood below the house, the plan ofthe miscreants being to draw the police away from the house. As this didnot succeed, a second party began a counter demonstration in anotherquarter. The theory is that a third party wanted to approach the housefrom the back in the temporary absence of the constabulary, anddisseminate the house, its contents, and the inhabitants into the airand the immediate vicinity by the gentle and persuasive influence ofdynamite. 

However, the police were not to be tricked, and soon the fellows, havinggrown apprehensive, or having exhausted all their ammunition, were hearddriving _off_. Signs of blood were found on the road towards Beaufortnext morning, so the attacking force suffered some inconvenience inreturn for giving us a bad night. 

Lord Morris, among a group of acquaintances in Dublin, pointing to me, said:--

'That's the Jack Snipe who provided winter shooting for the whole ofKerry, and not one of them could wing him. '

'Mighty poor sport they got out of it, ' I answered, 'and I have an evenworse opinion of their capacity for accurate aiming than I have of theirbenevolent intentions. '

Other people know more of oneself than one does, and I was muchinterested to hear that, in this year of grace, the editor of the _DailyTelegraph_ said of me:--

'Sam Hussey, yes, that's the famous Irishman they used to call"Woodcock" Hussey, because he was never hit, though often shot at. '

I always thought 'Woodcock' Carden had the monopoly of the epithet, butam proud to find I infringed his patent. 

I was benevolently commended by a vituperative ink-slinger, DanielO'Shea, in his letter to the _Sunday Democrat_ in 1886, but none ofthose he blackguarded were in the least inconvenienced by 'the roll ofhis tongue, ' as the saying is:--

'A vast number of the Irish have been heartlessly persecuted by the mostdespotic landlords of Ireland, such as Lord Kenmare, Herbert, Headley, Hussey, Winn, and the Marquis of Lansdowne, all of whom are Englishmenby birth, and consequently aliens in heart, despots by instinct, absentees by inclination, and always in direct opposition to the causeof Ireland. Poor-rate, town-rate, income-tax, are nothing less thanwholesale robbery, and is it any wonder that some of the people who arethus oppressed should be driven to desperation? It is deplorable tolearn that they should have had any cause to commit what are called"agrarian" crimes. Why not turn their attention to these landlords, thepolice, the travelling coercion magistrates, not forgetting theemergency men? These are the people to whom I would direct the attentionof the men of Kerry. '

I have given a number of examples of how I have been geniallyappreciated in the hostile Press, but my family are of opinion that itwould not be fair, considering how many kind things were published inloyal journals, not to render some tribute to them too. I was sincerelyobliged when I received a good word, but, frankly, the bad ones amusedme much more. However, I am not ungrateful, and I have specially prizedone able description of my attitude which appeared in the _Globe_, themanly strain of the writing of which is in healthy contrast to thehysterical effusions tainted with adjectival mania of those who wantedme shot, but were too cowardly to fire at me themselves:--

'Mr. Hussey is admittedly fair and just in his dealings with his owntenants. But he is only just and fair, which, in the ethics of Irishagrarianism, is equivalent to being a rack-renter and a tyrant. Herefuses to let his own land at whatever the tenants think well to payfor it. He persists, with exasperating obstinacy, in refusing tosacrifice the interests of the landlords for whom he acts. In short, Mr. Hussey is one of the most determined and formidable obstacles to thesuccess of the Land League. While such men have the courage to face theagrarian conspiracy, that grand consummation of patriotic effort--therooting out of landlordism--must be a somewhat tough and tediousbusiness. He has lived in the midst of enemies, who would have murderedhim if only they had the opportunity. His life, it may be safely said, has had no stronger security than his own ability to protect it. '

And yet some one ventured to call Irish land agents 'popularity-huntingscoundrels. '

'Popularity and getting in money were never on the same bush, ' as I toldLord Kenmare, and if I had stopped to think how I should make myselfpopular, I should have bothered my head about what I did not caretwopence for, and provided an even more easy target for firing at atshort range. 

Drifting from a man who paid no heed to scoundrels, I am led to alludeto the attitude of a profession, the members of which profited by theiramenities--I, of course, mean solicitors--because some one put aquestion to me on the subject only the other day. 

My answer is, that none of the solicitors were in the Land League, andthey did not instigate outrages; but they drew comfortable fees fordefending the perpetrators. 

Swindlers and murderers never agree, for they practise distinctprofessions. 

We were fighting a Land War, and though I have kept back land questionsas much as I can, in order not to weary the reader with what neverwearies me, I have one or two examples to give which cannot be omittedif I am to portray the true facts. 

My firm was agent for an estate in Castleisland, the rent of which, in1841, was Ł2300. I exhibited the rental, showing only three quarters inarrear. By 1886 it was cut down by the Commissioners to Ł 1800, and thelandlord sold it for Ł30, 000, for which the tenants used to pay four percent, for forty-nine years, to cover principal and interest. 

There was a tenant on that estate named Dennis Coffey. He took a farm atŁ105 a year; the Commissioners reduced that rent to Ł80. He purchased itfor Ł1440--eighteen years' purchase, for which his son has Ł42 a yearfor forty-nine years. The father had purchased a farm for fee-simple ofequal value for Ł3000, which he left to two others of his sons. So thatone son, by paying half what he had covenanted to pay, and which hecould pay, gets a farm equal in value to what his father paid Ł3000 inhard cash for. The man who is paying rent has his farm well stocked; theothers are paupers, and one died in the poorhouse. 

That may belong to to-day, and not to the period of outrage with which Ihave been dealing; but it duly points the moral, and is the outcome ofthose times. 

At the Boyle Board of Guardians in 1887, upon a discussion over theKilronan threatened evictions, Mr. Stuart said:--

'There was one of these men arrested by the police. His rent was Ł4, 12s. 6d. , and, when arrested, a deposit-receipt for Ł220 was found inhis pocket. '

This case had been freely cited at home and in America as a typicalinstance of the ruthless tyranny of Irish landlords. 

My friend and neighbour, Mr. Arthur Blennerhassett, addressed thefollowing letter to Mr. W. E. Gladstone, then Prime Minister:--

'Sir--I beg respectfully to call your attention to the followingstatement. In 1866, Judge Longfield conveyed to my uncle, under what wascalled an indefeasible title, the lands of Inch East, Ardroe and InchIsland, and previous to the sale, Judge Longfield caused them to bevalued by Messrs. Gadstone and Ellis, and in the face of the rental, hecertified that the fair letting value of Inch East and Ardroe was Ł230, and that the fair letting value of Inch Island was Ł75, now in hand. Onthe strength of will, my uncle purchased the lands valued at Ł305 forŁ6200, and your sub-Commissioners have just reduced the rental of InchEast and Ardroe at the rate of from Ł230 to Ł170 a year. 

I therefore request you will be pleased to take some steps to recoup mefor the Ł60 a year I have lost by the action of the Government, and Imay say this can be partially done by abandoning the quit rent and titherent charge, amounting to Ł34, 5s. 4d. , which I am now forced by theGovernment to pay without any reduction. 

A. BLENNERHASSETT. '

The Right Honourable W. E. Gladstone. 

The oracle of Hawarden was as dumb to this as to my effusion to asimilar purport already mentioned. Not even the proverbial postcard wassent to Tralee, so the verbosity of Mr. Gladstone was strangely checkedwhen he found himself pinned down to facts by Irish landlords. 

Whilst landlords and their families were literally starving, and agentswere collecting what they could at the peril of their lives, the realland-grabbers, the no-renters, were accumulating money, and investing itin land. 

I sent the following series of sales to the _Times_ to show the realvalue of land:--

 (1) The interest on Lord Granard's estate, the valuation of which was five guineas, was sold for Ł280, and the fee-simple subsequently bought for Ł80. 

 (2) On one of his own farms for which the tenant paid Ł65 annual rent, the tenant's interest fetched Ł750 and auction fees. 

 (3) A farm at Curraghila, near Tralee, annual rent Ł70, Poor Law valuation, Ł51, 10s. , area stat. 73 acres. The tenant's interest was sold for Ł700. 

 (4) Tenant's interest on a farm in County Tipperary, on Lord Normanton's estate, at yearly rent of Ł30, was sold for Ł600, and the fee-simple purchased for Ł450. 

 (5) Tenant's interest at Breaing, near Castleisland, held at the annual rent of Ł51, 10s. , was sold for Ł550. 

 (6) At Abbeyfeale, County Kerry, tenant of a small farm, at annual rent of twenty-four shillings, sold his interest for Ł55. 

All the sales, save the Tipperary one, were in a district in which, prior to the Land Act of 1881, tenant-right was unknown. 

Poetry is always congenial to an Irishman, probably because it haslicences almost as great as he likes to take, and has a vague, irresponsible way of putting things, much akin to his own methods. 

Here are some lines from the 'Irish Tenant's Song' which express a gooddeal of the popular emotion:--

 Oh, Parnell, dear, and did you hear the news that's going round? The landlords are forbid by law to live on Irish ground. No more their rent-days they may keep, nor agents harsh distrain, The widow need no longer weep, for over is their reign. I met with mighty Gladstone, and he took me by the hand, And he said, 'Hurrah for Ireland! 'tis now the happy land. 'Tis a most delightful country that I for you have made--You may shoot the landlord through the head who asks that rent be paid. ' We care not for the agent, nor do we care for those Who come upon us to distrain--we pay them back in blows. And when hopeless, helpless, ruined, these landlords vile shall roam, We'll hunt and hound them from the roofs they've held so long as home. 

I don't say that was sung in Castleisland, but it might have been thelocal hymn and verbal companion to the brutal misdeeds of the benightedinhabitants. 

As if matters were not bad enough, that Apostle of outrage Mr. MichaelDavitt came to Castleisland on February 21, 1886, and in a pestilentialspeech, inciting to crime, he showed that, at all events, he appreciatedthat for sheer blackness and turpitude Kerry was bad to beat. He said:--

'For some time past Kerry has attracted more attention for theoccurrences which have been taking place here, than the whole remainderof Ireland put together. I am not without hope that henceforth, untilthe battle with landlordism and Dublin Castle is triumphantly over, thepeople of Kerry will be towers of strength to the national cause. Thehope of Irish landlordism is now centred in Kerry. Elsewhere it hasnone, it is a social rinderpest, since the National League was started1600 families have been turned out in this one county. '

Captain M'Calmont in the House of Commons, three weeks afterwards, called attention to Mr. Baron Dowse's address to the Grand Jury of theCounty of Kerry in which he stated:--

'That this county is in a very much worse state than it has been foryears: that there are no less than three hundred offences speciallyreported to the constabulary since the Assizes of 1885, consisting oftwo cases of murder, eighteen cases of letters threatening to murder, thirty-nine cases of cattle, horse, and sheep stealing, eleven cases ofarson, eighteen cases of maiming cattle, fifty-two cases of seizingarms, seventy-four cases of sending threatening letters, and twenty-fourcases of intimidation. '

You will observe that this is the same picture from two different pointsof view. 

Almost the worst case in which I was personally interested, was that ofthe Cruickshank family. 

The father, an industrious, respectable, elderly Scotsman, supported hisfamily at Inch by the proceeds of a rabbit-warren which he rented. Hehad no farm, and therefore might expect to live in peace, even in Kerry, in those times; but, as he was a Scotch Protestant, and had arms, he wasa marked man. 

Having been threatened, he was partially guarded by the police whopatrolled the district. However, in April 1885, when the Prince of Walesvisited Ireland, and the constabulary from country districts weredrafted into the towns through which he had to pass, a number ofdisguised Nationalists entered Cruickshank's house at night. They gavehim a frightful beating, even breaking a gun on his head, which wasseriously injured. This was done in the presence of his wife anddaughters, and of a young son who, with one of his sisters, went off inthe night to a police station four miles distant, to obtain assistancefor his father. 

Between the fight and the chill received that night, the boy fell into adecline of which he died in May 1886. One daughter, not strong at thetime of the outrage, became a chronic invalid. The father, as soon as hewas able to move after the perpetration, applied for compensation underthe Crimes Act, but as it was then to expire in about a fortnight, theLord-Lieutenant refused to consider the case. The poor fellow continuedto suffer from the wounds on his head, and so affected was he by theshock of his son's death, that he became insensible and only survivedhim a few weeks, leaving his widow and three daughters without any meansof support. 

My wife and the former Archdeacon of Ardfert appealed for subscriptionsand obtained Ł120, which enabled the unfortunate survivors to return toScotland. 

That was the settlement of the land question that suited theNationalists, namely, to cause the death of the head of the family, andto get the rest out of the country. It did not say much for thecivilisation of the nineteenth century, but after the brutalities of thespring of 1871 in Paris, there can be no doubt how thin is the veneerover the barbarity of even the most civilised; those deeds wereperpetrated in the heart of the European capital specially devoted toamusement: what I describe took place in the most distant portion ofEurope, where Nature is lovely and man, alas, the creature of impulse, the prey of those who lead him into the worst temptations. 

Another settlement was suggested by an anonymous writer who concealedhis identity under the pseudonym of Saxon. He observed:--

'Two hundred millions of English money are now (1886) to be spent buyingout Irish landlords, but would it not be surely better and more inaccordance with reason and justice to buy out the tenants? At a very lowcalculation, two hundred millions would put a couple of hundred poundsin every Irishman's pocket, and there is not one of them that wouldrefuse to leave his beloved country, and bless America or Australia onthese terms. The island could be populated with Scotch and Englishsettlers, and our difficulties be at an end. The Irish must not havetheir own loaf and ours too. I commend this scheme to Messrs. Gladstoneand Morley. It is quite as just, quite as reasonable, and more forciblethan their own. '

Hear, hear! say I, but our grandchildren's grandchildren when grey oldmen will still be trying to settle the Irish question, which can neverbe settled until there arises a big man strong enough to force his willon the Empire and fortunate enough to be able to hand over the reins ofpolitical dictatorship to an equally enlightened and powerful successor. 

It is hopeless to expect Irish matters to go well, when the balance ofparties in the House of Commons is held by hirelings and traitors, menwho debase patriotism and would to-day encourage outrage as much as theydid in 1884, if it was worth their mercenary while. 

I had a word to write myself a year later to Mr. T. Harrington, whothought he could tell as many lies about me as suited his own purpose, and I addressed my reply, published on August 29, 1887, to the Editor ofthe _Times_. It ran as follows:--

'Sir--I have just read the speech of Mr. T. Harrington in the debate onMr. Gladstone's motive relating to the proclamation of the NationalLeague, in which he states that I invented and gave to Mr. Balfour theparticulars of the boycotting of Justin M'Carthy. I beg you will allowme to state that I never wrote to Mr. Balfour, or to any member of theGovernment, on that or any subject. Had I supplied the information, Iwould have mentioned some facts which Mr. Balfour omitted, for instance, that a man named Andrew Griffin was nearly murdered because he broughtprovisions to Justin M'Carthy, that four men were put on their trial forthe outrage, but notwithstanding a plain charge from the judge, thejury, fearing the vengeance of the League, acquitted the prisoners. Iwould also mention a fact that would seem almost incredible to yourEnglish Catholic readers, that the old man cannot attend his place ofworship without being hissed at in the church, and that his aged wife, while partaking of the sacrament of the Holy Communion, was hissed atand jeered. These things can be proved on oath, and are not to be setaside by frothy declamation. Neither can the fact be disproved that oneof the offences for which Justin M'Carthy has suffered was that hepurchased his farm from me under Lord Ashbourne's Act, a proceedingwhich (as it is likely to settle down the country) is considered adeadly crime; and for committing the same offence another man in thesame barony had his cows stabbed. 

Your obedient servant, S. M. HUSSEY. '

There is yet another case I cannot forbear from handing on to ageneration that knows no outrages nearer home than Macedonia. Sixruffians, having their faces covered with handkerchiefs, and armed withheavy cudgels, entered the house of a farmer named Lambe and began tobeat him. To save his head from the blows, he ran the upper part of hisbody up the chimney and held on by the cross-bar. His wife, on coming tohis assistance, was beaten so severely that her skull was fractured, while an aged female--stated to be in her ninety-seventh year--was notonly roughly handled, but also beaten. A most discreditable episodeindeed, in a land formerly renowned for respect for womanhood, and forthe warm-hearted generosity of her sons. 

In only one instance in Kerry was police protection being regarded asnecessary up to the present summer, and all who know the contemporarycondition of affairs will at once recollect that Mrs. Morrogh Bernard isthe lady in question. 

The late Mr. Edward Morrogh Bernard of Fahagh Court, Bullybrack, was aRoman Catholic, who had resided in Kerry all his life, and somefive-and-twenty years ago he built on his property the residence inwhich he died in the spring of 1904. He and his wife, an English lady, who was justly beloved for her wide charity, were one night, afterdinner, sitting in their drawing-room, when a party of maskedmoonlighters walked in. One of them held a pistol to her head, and toldher not to scream or move, else he would shoot her. Another performedthe same kindly office for Mr. Bernard, whilst the rest ransacked thehouse for arms and money. 

Mrs. Bernard noticed that the hands of the man who was threatening herwith violence were not those of an agricultural labourer, because theywere small and white. On the strength of this clue, the police arresteda little tailor in the village, and she courageously identified him incourt, though every possible pressure was brought on her not to do so. He was sentenced to several years' imprisonment, and his friends vowedthey would make it hot for Mrs. Bernard, and ever after she has beenprotected by two or three constables. The police did not live in FahaghCourt, but in a hut specially built for them a few yards off, and atnight they always came into the house. To the very last days of Mr. Bernard's life whenever he and she went to pay a call on a neighbour, two policemen followed them either on a car or on bicycles, and I havenever heard any reasons advanced to show that these precautions weresuperfluous. 

Meeting this little party on the highway was the only thing in thetwentieth century which brought home to the British tourist the terribledeeds which blackened Kerry in the eighties. 

I have always looked on the light side of life, even when it has seemedblackest, and so I will not close this chapter without a more cheeryanecdote. 

There was a good deal of friction among Land Leaguers over the amount ofrelief money and other remuneration doled out by the rebel authorities. This seldom reached a more droll pitch than in the complaint of a girlat Rossbeigh, who wrote to a prominent member of Parliament--sincedeceased--that another girl had been awarded a pound for booing at asergeant, 'while I, who broke a policeman's head, never got so much aswould pay for a candle to the Blessed Virgin. '

Sometimes the crafty Paddy utilised the agitation for his own purposes, as the following example will prove. 

A farmer's house was fired into, but no one could tell the reason why, for he had not paid any rent and was a good Land Leaguer. He was askedif he could account for it himself, and after some shuffling underpromise of strict secrecy, made the following revelation. 

'Well, it was this way, I married a dacent girl from the North, and allwent well with us until her mother came along, and she had the divil'sown tongue, and nothing could get her out of the house. I would say "theNorth has fine air, would not a change back there get you your health?"

'To which the old Biddy would reply:--

'"Where would I live except with my only daughter and her husband?"

'And this sort of thing made me desperate, and I promised the "bhoys"five shillings if they would fire round the house on a certain night. Onthe evening that had been agreed upon, I began reading on the paper howfarms in Castleisland were being fired into, and the old woman said thatif these things were so, County Kerry was worse than County Cork, and Ithought to myself "maybe you'll find it so, you ould divil. "

'Well, they came and did their work in grand style after we had gone tobed, and there was the mother-in-law screeching and bawling, and everyhour too long for her until daylight, when I put her in the cart anddrove her to the station. '

The sequel is that the couple left to themselves lived happily everafter, a thing more likely to happen to people in England and Ireland, if it was no one's business to make bad blood between them. 

CHAPTER XXII

COMMISSIONS

I have probably given evidence to as many Commissions as any living man, for I have been before seven, and never once was asked a question thatposed me. 

I enjoyed the experience of being asked about what I knew by those whoknew nothing on the subject, and if the legal mind was a little moreobtuse than the civil, well, it was only the choice between a greydonkey and a black. 

The earliest Commission I gave evidence before was one on Agriculture. Professor Bohnamy Price was one of the Commissioners, and he knew whathe was talking about, others being Lord Carlingford, the Duke ofBuccleuch, and the Duke of Richmond and Gordon, who presided. The peerswere all used to big parks, obsequious bailiffs, and huge demesnes. Ithink they metaphorically picked up their coat tails and steppedcarefully away from the Irish potato patches and acres of turf. 

It was alleged that prosperity of nations was a good deal owing totenant-right. 

'I do not think so, ' said I, 'because Donegal and Kerry haveapproximately the same value and area, same number of miles of road andsea frontage. There is extreme tenant-right in Donegal and none inKerry, yet the prosperity of the farmers in Kerry is extremely superiorto those of Donegal. '

'There is too much tenant-right in Donegal, ' said Mr. ChichesterFortescue, who was examining me. 

'Not if it is a good thing, ' I replied, 'for then you could not have toomuch. '

Mr. Shaw Lefevre's Commission on the housing of the working classes inIreland was very uninteresting. 'Oxen are stalled, pigs are styed ortake possession of the cabin, but what is done for the Irish labourers?'asked a passionate mob-orator, and in many cases it might have beenanswered that a good deal more has been done for them than the idleruffians deserve. I had no difficulty in showing that landlords werealways willing to give assistance in housing labourers, and when anex-mayor of Cork on the Commission seemed to doubt my assertions, Imight have retorted that though he was used to factory hands, yet he hadnever bothered himself how they lived out of work time. 

The Duke of Devonshire was on this board. He has obtained his great andhonourable reputation by conscientiously slumbering through many duties. His tastes are for racing and shooting, but from sheer patriotism he hasdevoted himself to politics with all the energy of his lethargic manner, which successfully conceals abnormal common-sense. It was he, more thanany other man, who saved Ireland from Home Rule, though as an Irishlandlord he has not come much to the fore, because his vast Englishestates are immeasurably more important than those situated roundLismore. This picturesque town was once called the abode of saints, butonly antiquarians remember that its university was once so importantthat Alfred the Great went there to study, and that in the old castleHenry II held a Parliament. The Cavendishs rebuilt the latter, and bothin appearance and position it much resembles Warwick Castle. It has notvery many bedrooms, and when the King was first expected, among variousextensive alterations, a bathroom was put up. The Duke has generallyvisited Lismore twice a year, and has never stood unduly on his dignity, but been approachable by all, and reasonable about everything, which hasalso been characteristic of his political views. 

Lord Bessborough presided over a Commission on Irish Land Laws. He was avery kind, very lean man, who was wont in old age to walk about Londonwrapped in a black cape, and was idolised at Harrow, where twentygenerations of boys knew him and his brothers and valued their unabatedinterest in school cricket. Baron Dowse, a judge I have alreadymentioned, the O'Conor Don, and Mr. Shaw, were the members who putquestions to me. I remember the O'Conor Don was much impressed when Imentioned I had made six tours in Scotland, and had been in Holland, inBelgium, in France, in Germany, in Italy, and just before in Spain, toinquire into the state of agriculture. I said that if a man persisted infarming badly I would serve him with notice to quit even if he paid hisrent, and I pointed out that there were three hundred thousand occupiersof land in Ireland whose holdings were under Ł8 Poor Law valuation, andthese occupiers, when their potatoes fail, have nothing to fall backupon but relief work, starvation, or emigration, and I further laidbefore the Commission a purchase scheme. There would be twenty years'purchase-money to be lent by the State, two years' purchase to be foundby the tenant and two years more at the end of ten years. Thus thelandlord would get a price for his property that would induce him tosell (reductions had not then been wholesale) and the tenant would get alease for ever with abolition of rent at the end of thirty-five years bypaying a fine of two years' rent down and two more at the end of tenyears. 

They would not have it. Who ever expected that Justice would lift thebandage from her eyes for the sake of fair play to the landlord?

Lord Salisbury had a Commission on the working of the Land Act of 1881. Lord Dunraven, Lord Pembroke, and Lord Cairns were on it, the latterbeing chairman. He was so austere that, when he was made LordChancellor, it was said he had swallowed the mace and could not digestit. His law may have been profound, but it was never relieved by a gleamof humour, and his ecclesiastical proclivities were of the lowest Churchtype. For some time he nominated Tory bishops, and it was declared hewas so evangelical that he would have suggested any clergyman for avacant bishopric who promised to forego the ecclesiastical gaiters. Hishorror of Anthony Trollope's novels was notorious, especially hisdislike of Mrs. Proudie and her attendant divines. 

I said the working of the Land Act was ruin to Irish landlords, andcited a case. A Kerry gentleman had an estate of Ł1200 rent roll, with amortgage of Ł8000 which involved charges of Ł400 a year, a jointuretithes and head rent took Ł400 more. The Commissioners by so cuttingdown the rent by Ł400 made a clean sweep of what that landlord had tolive on. Fortunately, he had his mother's fortune of Ł40, 000, which hisgrandfather had wisely provided should not be invested in Irish lands, having, in fact, established a contingency in case his grandson shouldbe dispossessed of the property he had held for generations, by aGovernment truckling to blustering 'no-renters. '

Before Lord Cowper's Commission on the same subject, I said much thesame thing over again and realised that Royal Commissions are mostvaluable for the purpose of shelving pregnant topics. The only goodderived from these official inquiries is that the witnesses get theirexpenses and the Government printers have a lucrative contract. 

There is a story told of a witness who was being brought over to Londonto give evidence. 

'Patrick, ' said the priest, 'you'll be having to mind what you're sayingover there. Perjury won't help you no more than I can, my poor fellow. '

'What happens if I get a bit wide of the truth then, father?'

'You won't get your expenses, my son. '

'Holy Mother, to think of that! I'll be so careful that I won't know howmany legs the blessed pig has that's round the cabin all day long. '

Sir Edward Fry's Commission had none of the tinsel of big names nor thetawdriness of aristocratic apathy. Sir Edward meant to find the truth, and so did his colleagues--all practical men. What they did was tostrike against the hard rock of party government which was too adamantto receive the evidence sown by these gardeners. Dr. Anthony Traill, whowas one of the Commissioners, has in this very year of grace been madeProvost of Trinity, and from what I saw of him I am certain he will bethe apostle of fair play between undergraduates and dons. 

I answered over five hundred questions and rammed home one or twopoints. For instance, I expressed my disapproval of a system by which aman who is a sub-Commissioner at the hearing on the first term maybecome the Court valuer on the next. 

In valuation, it is wrong that men from the north should be sent tovalue in the south, or _vice versâ_, and to prove that I cited theexample of my tenant, Anne Delane. Her rent was fixed first term in 1883for Ł34, 10s. In 1896, for second term, the sub-Commissioner fixed it atŁ23, 10s. , and on appeal it was raised to Ł25. Mr. O'Shaughnessy, whowas one of the sub-Commissioners on the first term, acted as a Courtvaluer on the second. On the first time he allowed Ł103, 6s. 9d. Fordrains and buildings, and on the second omitted it. 

In the case of Hoffman, who held a farm at a rent of Ł30, I reduced itto Ł20 in 1881. In 1896 he went into court, and the County Court judgereduced it to Ł15, and on appeal he got it again reduced to Ł13. 

On land which came into my own hands after 1881, I was able to get rentsover 50 per cent. In excess of those fixed by the sub-Commissioners. Inthe case of Patrick Quill, the farm on which the rent was cut down fromŁ20 to Ł16 was sold for Ł300 with a charge of Ł9 on it. 

In the case of Michael Callaghan, Colonel Hickson expended Ł300 andCallaghan Ł100 on the farm, for which the rent was Ł70, and he sold hisinterest for Ł700. 

This perpetual wrangling and litigation is ruinous, for every man isfarming down his land and letting it deteriorate as fast as he can; andthere is a most marked difference in the county between those who havebought their land and those who are tenants. When a judicial rent wasfixed and a tenant came into Court for a second judicial rent, I thinkthe landlord should have been at liberty to stop him by tendering thefarmer twenty years' purchase; that would give him a reduction of 20 percent, and make him a proprietor in the course of time. 

In 1850 at Milltown Fair, yearlings were selling for 30s. Apiece. Thesame cattle now are selling for Ł5, and Kerry is a great stock-breedingcountry. 

It is very hard to define a landlord, and you will hear of some beinglandlords who do not get a shilling from their estates. Under thesecircumstances they would be like the fox in Ćsop's fable who had losthis own tail. 

To show how the Land Act works, on the Harenc estate I was offeredtwenty-seven years' purchase before the Act for a holding, and at thetime of the Commission they offered me sixteen years' purchase ontwo-thirds of the rent. 

One other Commission besides that of the _Times_ remains to bementioned. Lord Balfour of Burleigh, a dour Scot with a lot of gumptionin his head, was chairman of one on Imperial _versus_ local taxation. Myeasy task was to show the excess of the latter in Kerry, which is thehighest taxed county in the three kingdoms. 

When a man thinks of the vast amount of information buried beyond allprobable excavation in the Blue Books of the last fifty years, he maywell break into Carlyle-like diatribes against the waste of the wholething--which is paid for out of the taxpayer's pocket. 

Alluding to all these Commissions reminds me that there were three LandCommissioners--Mr. Bewlay, who was very deaf; Mr. FitzGerald, who wasrather hasty; and Mr. Wrench, who consistently absented himself toattend the Congested Board. 

So they were respectively, though not respectfully, called, 'The judgewho could not hear, the judge who would not hear, and the judge who isnot here. ' This was one of the witticisms of my clever friend, Mr. Robert Martin--'Bally-hooley'-one of the very few men who can write agood Irish song, and sing it well, into the bargain. 

I appeared in the witness-box in the case of O'Donnell _v. _ the _Times_. I suppose people buy newspapers to obtain information, or else to get apennyworth of lies to induce equanimity in bearing the income-tax, theweather, and all other ills that an unnatural Government is responsiblefor; and I further suppose a halfpenny paper has to condense itsinaccuracies, and serve them up in tabloid form for mental indigestion. However, that is as it may be; anyhow, I had a hearty laugh at the_Star_, which wrote:--

'A look round the Court again this morning brought the strangeimpression which one now always feels on entering the Court. The spaceis so comparatively small, but one feels as though it were all Irelandin microcosm. You see representatives of every class in the terribleconflict of war, of rival passions, hatred, and traditions. This manwith the large nose, the large and disfigured face, is Mr. Hussey, andthose scars that you see, and the distortion of the features, areperchance marks left by some desperate and homicidal tenant avenging hiswrongs. '

That 'perchance' is good, considering my riding misadventure in CountyCork, of which I gave an account earlier. 

As for the Parnell Commission, it was the outcome of superb patriotismon the part of the _Times_. That great organ, in the spirit of purestdevotion to the best interests of England and Ireland, honestlyattempted to expose treachery, and to denounce treason. Hundreds ofcolumns of the valuable space at their daily disposal, as well asthousands of pounds earned by the highest journalism of any country, were freely lavished in this tremendous denunciation, known as'Parnellism and Crime. ' The crime of Pigott eventually saved Parnell andhis followers. But the last word on that has not yet been spoken. Another pen than mine may, perchance before long, tell the whole truthabout that tragic episode, and explain what is still an unsolved riddlein all dispassionate minds. Without challenging and exciting thestrongest racial prejudices, it will be impossible to lift the veil, andI have no intention of affording even the slightest preliminary peepbehind the scenes of that dramatic affair. The wheels of God grindslowly, and they ground exceeding small almost before the absurdexultation of Nationalist relief over the Pigott episode had abated. Itis almost time to treat the whole affair from the historical point ofview, and then the idol of Home Rule will be pulverised. However, thatis another story in which I have no chapter to write. 

My own share in the Parnell Commission was on November 29, 1888, on thetwenty-third day. I was examined by the Attorney-General, the presentLord Chief Justice, and the most popular and most honourable of men. Atthat very time, I have heard, he sang each Sunday in the surpliced choirof a Kensington church, and I suppose he is the very best chairman of acommittee or of a public meeting of our own or any other time. AParnellite once said he had the unctuousness of a retired grocer, butwas contradicted by a more reverent English Radical, who said, 'No, hehas the unction of grace, ' whereas, the truth is, he has the platformmanner with him always. 

I told the Court I had been a Kerry magistrate for the previousthirty-seven years, and, after deposing to the earlier state of myproperty, I insisted that moonlighting and 'land-grabbing' were unknownterms before 1880. My examination under the Attorney-General was, infact, too practical and useful to provide amusement for latter dayreaders. 

My cross-examination was begun by Sir Charles Russell, who led off witha sneer about my being the most popular man in the county, and, when Iadhered to other statements, he added, 'Well, a very popular man. I willnot put you on too high a pinnacle. ' (Laughter. ) Then for an hour and ahalf he plied me with the best balanced statistical questions I everheard put in a hostile spirit, and without a note I could answer everyone. After considerable hesitation I admitted on consideration thatthere was in Kerry one farmer benefiting by the Act of 1870. I havenever heard since that he was caught and exhibited as the solitaryoutward and visible sign of the inward and legal benefit of thelegislative force of Imperial Parliament. 

Mr. Lockwood, to whom, as artist, I had been serving as a model, evidently preferred to handle me with pencil rather than with questions, for he was almost as brief as Mr. Reid. It is my view that they both hadconsigned me to petrification under Sir Charles Russell, and finding mealive and kicking, thought me too tough to expire under such _coups degrace_ as they could inflict. 

We came to banter when Mr. Michael Davitt suggested that the young menof Castleisland took part in nocturnal raids because there was no suchsocial inducement to keep them quiet, as a music-hall or a theatre; butI told him there ought to have been no inducement to them to shoot theirneighbours, and that Castleisland was past redemption. 

He blandly alluded to my popularity with the tenants before 1880; but Ionly said that I got on fairly well with them, for I do not think thatany agent was ever really popular. 

'Relatively?' insidiously. 

'Yes. '

Then came this curious question, put with a gentleness that would havearoused the suspicion of a babe:--

'Did you ever say, in reply to a question put to you by Mr. TownsendTrench as to why you were not shot, that you had told the tenants thatif anything happened to you he would succeed you as agent?'

'Yes, I did say so; but it is not original, because it is what CharlesII. Said to James II. '

This historic reference, which elicited laughter in Court, did not seemintelligible to my questioner, but some better informed person probablysoon quoted it to him:--

'Depend on it, brother James, they will never shoot me to make youking. '

From the kid-glove amenities of Mr. Davitt to the aggressive harshnessof Mr. Biggar was a sharp contrast. He heckled me vigorously, and Iretorted to him pretty hotly. A great deal had been expected of thiscross-examination, but the general opinion was that I gave rather betterthan I received. Coolness is the despair of cross-examiners, and I thinkmine made more impression on the Court than the impulsiveness of a dozeninaccurate Nationalists. 

Mr. Biggar asked:--

'You said you were popular in the district up to 1880?'

I retorted with emphasis:--

'I never had a serious threat until you mentioned my name inCastleisland, and then people told me, 'Get police protection at once, or you will be shot!'

That made the Court laugh. Mr. Biggar did not appreciate the humour. Hereturned to the charge viciously:--

'Did not some of your sympathisers light a bonfire in 1878 atCastleisland on account of the triumphs of your buying the Harencestate? and did not the population of Castleisland, who knew yourcharacter, scatter that bonfire, and put it out?'

'I heard they had a row over it. There were nine bonfires lighted inKerry after I succeeded. I was fairly popular until you held up my nameas a subject for murder in Castleisland. You said Hussey might be a verybad man, but you would take care of one thing--that if any person wascharged with shooting him, or any other agent, they would be defended, which meant they would be paid. '

Mr. Biggar did not appear to relish the line he was on, and shunted toanother topic; but he could not shake my view that the rents of 1880were, on the average, twenty-five per cent. Lower than in 1840. 

'You bought the Harenc estate over the heads of the tenants?'

'No, I did not. '

'You spoke about an address which you received from the tenants when youwere a candidate for Tralee?'

'Yes. '

Then, with the snarl of a wild beast, Mr. Biggar blurted out:--

'Have you any idea whether this was got up by the bailiffs on yourproperty?'

'I am quite certain it was not, because I had no bailiffs on theproperty. I gave an immense deal of employment, and I believe that hadsomething to do with it. '

Mr. Biggar presently sat down, having made less of me than he and hisfriends hoped. 

On re-examination, the Attorney-General observed:--

'You say one of the bonfires, lighted when you succeeded, was put out. Isuppose the Irish people are not very averse to a row at times?'

'Oh no. '

'And bonfires do produce rows at times?'

'Certainly. '

'Your popularity did not depend on one bonfire?'

'No. '

Nor did my life, fortunately, depend on the good will of Messrs. Parnell, Biggar, and their associates. 

With reference to my freedom in telling the truth, an application wasmade against me, in July 1891, for an attachment of the Land Court. Itended abortively, and permitted me to continue with perfect impunity togive in letters to the _Times_ evidence I was debarred from giving inCourt. 

I certainly did not miss a chance of pointing out the proper path to theCommissioners, and I have taken an even affectionate interest in everydepartment of the Land Commission. Sarcastically, a Home Rule paperpolitely christened me as the fatherly patron of the Court, and informedme that my own conscience had given up communication with me, inconsequence of the many snubs it had received. 

The intimate knowledge of my most private affairs that this purports torepresent proves the empty-headedness of the writer, and when he addedthat the strong indictment rebounded off my hide because I had heardmyself a hundred times denounced in language equally eloquent, I canonly agree that he was a mere lisping babe in comparison with someadjectival denunciators who, to their regret, find I am still alive andequal to them all. 

CHAPTER XXIII

LATER DAYS

With advancing years comes a change in the point of view, foranticipation contracts even more than retrospect expands. Associates ofearly days have passed away, and where I was once one of a battalion, to-day I am only a survivor of the old guard. This is not a cause forsadness, but an incentive to take the best of what remains of life, though at times chills and other ills, including doctors, drugs, andincome-tax, do their best to depress the survivor. It has been said tobe a characteristic of Irish humour that tears are very near thelaughter, and sometimes the unshed tears over lost opportunities must bethe chief bitterness of age--one which I have been mercifully spared. 

After all, youth may round the world away, as Charles Kingsley wrote;but when the wheels are run down, to find at home the face I loved whenall was young is the blessing of life, and when, at our golden wedding, our children called us Darby and Joan, I am sure my wife and I werequite willing to answer to the names. 

This was happiness very different to that of George IV. , who, when thedeath of Napoleon was announced to him in the words:--

'Sir, your great enemy is dead, ' exclaimed:--

'Is she? By Gad!' thinking it was his wife. 

I remember an amusing case that occurred in our own family. One of mykith and kin, who had been married in the year of the battle ofWaterloo, died at the ripe old age of a hundred and three. 

There was a faithful old fellow on the estate who was much attached toher, and this was his view, just before her end:--

'I am sorry to hear the old mistress is dying, very sorry indeed, forshe's been a good mistress to us all. Maybe if she had taken snuff she'dhave lived to a good old age, ' which suggests wonder as to what hisconception of longevity really was. Probably the famous Countess ofDesmond, who died from the effects of a fall from a cherry-tree in herone hundred and fortieth year, would have satisfied him. 

I have already observed that much of my later years has been spent, muchagainst my will, in London, and no portion of this period was sosatisfactory to me as my friendship with Mr. J. A. Froude, which I regardas one of the privileges of my life. 

My first acquaintance with him was in consequence of reading his_English in Ireland_, which I found so accurate and informative that Iwrote to ask him for an interview. I came to like him very much, notonly because he was the most gifted writer I have met, but also becausehe understood Ireland better than any other Englishman. 

My first conversation with him was in his house in Onslow Gardens, andthere I very frequently sat for hours with him, and he also presented mewith copies of all his books, with an autograph letter on the fly-leafof each. I think the recent Land Purchase Act, having been followed byincreased agitation for Home Rule in Ireland, bears out what he saidabout the folly of trying to reconcile the irreconcilables, and alsobears out what Lord Morris called the 'criminal idiotcy' of attemptingto satisfy eighty Irish members, forty of whom would have to starvedirectly they were satisfied. 

So far as I am aware, Mr. Froude never contemplated standing forParliament, which would not have been a congenial atmosphere for him, though I am convinced he would have made more mark at Westminster thanhis friend Mr. Lecky, whom I never had the pleasure of meeting. 

People to-day seem to regard Mr. Froude simply as the Boswell ofCarlyle, and, forgetting his own great services to historicalliterature, degrade him to the mere chronicler of the bilious sage ofChelsea. This is absolutely a distortion of fact, and one calculated todo injury to the memory of both these famous men. Therefore it may be ofreal utility to state that during my long and very intimate acquaintancewith Mr. Froude, he never mentioned the name of Carlyle to me but once, and that was to describe a conversation between Lord Wolseley andCarlyle, which dealt with the contemporary situation in Ireland. Therewas, therefore, nothing to show me that my friend 'was utterly absorbedin the Carlyles, and had no thought for any one else. ' On the contrary, he was a man full of keen interests, of which they were only one, and, as far as I saw, an entirely subordinate one. He was a broad-minded man, who hated petty misconception or a narrow view of anything, and he wouldhave been horrified at the prurient indecency with which the mostprivate affairs of the Carlyles have been exposed and distorted toplease a public which really has a higher moral tone than is possessedby those who have gibbeted the defenceless dead. 

Mr. Froude was not addicted to talking much about his own works, but Iremember his telling me that _Oceana_ had paid him best of them all, andI think his view therein that the colonies will recede from England whenthey are strong enough, following the example of the United States, isaccurate. Just tax Canada as Ireland has been taxed, and see how longthe Canadians will be contented. The ministers of George III. Tried thatpolicy on the United States with the result that, before many years, George had to receive the Plenipotentiary Minister of dominions overwhich he himself had once reigned. It is absurd to compare Ireland withYorkshire, as has been done, for Ireland once had a separate Parliament, and the Union was a matter of agreement, the outcome of which was thatMr. Childers's Commission found she was taxed three millions more thanshe should have been. The colonies are on the alert, with all the ratherirritable uppishness of youth on the verge of manhood, and their youngergenerations are sure to take full advantage of any tactless conduct ofthe British Government. Such was Froude's view, and nothing has happenedsince his death to shake its inherent probability. The waves of Imperialpatriotism in war time go for very little, for Ireland is admittedlydisloyal, and yet Irish soldiers and Irish regiments were absolutely themost successful in South Africa. 

When the Government was introducing some quack measure into Ireland, Froude wrote to me:--

'I see they are putting some fresh sticks under the Irish pot, so itwill soon boil over. '

Which it did, with a vengeance. 

To the end of his days Froude was a great reader, but his interest inChurch affairs and in ecclesiastical differences had completely diedaway. He told me that the most accurate man of business of any periodwas Philip of Spain, and that his notes and memoranda were a marvel ofpractical aptitude. He derived the chief information for his _History ofEngland_ from Spanish despatches, and would to-day have benefitedconsiderably by the translations of Major Martin Hume. 

Personally Froude had no cranks; his disposition was most urbane, whilsthe was very neat in his appearance and also in his handwriting. It wouldcertainly be of interest to give a few of his racy letters, too oftenundated, which I have preserved. Unfortunately, his executors firmlyrefuse the necessary legal consent, so that I am compelled to make mybook irreparably the poorer by omitting what should have been one of itsmost attractive contents. In justice to Froude's memory, I ought to addthat there was nothing in his correspondence with me that would havediminished his high repute. I mention this because otherwise busybodiesmight have misinterpreted the arbitrary action of his executors to thedetriment of his fame. 

A later friendship than that with Froude also must have a sincereallusion in these pages, for I have derived much pleasure from myassociation with Sir Henry Howorth, a ripe old lawyer of Portugueseextraction, who has rendered valuable political service by his polemicalletters to the _Times_, on which I can pass a most favourable opinion. His histories of the Mongols, the Mammoth, and the Flood are possiblymore permanent, but they are not of such contemporary note. At any rate, I respect them from a distance, whilst I admire the political effusionsas the capital work of a comrade under arms, and one who is not afraidto verbally bludgeon any formidable contemporary Hooligans. 

Sir Henry Howorth occasionally breaks out into a story, though he ismore frequently a listener to mine. This is one of his that I happen torecall:--

The Mayor of Richmond gave a dinner, at which a distinguished Frenchmansat next the Mayor's son, and on replying for the guests in imperfectEnglish, observed:--

'I am vary happy to be here, and to meet my young friend, who is a sheepof the old bloke, ' meaning, of course, a chip of the old block. 

I plead guilty to have materially increased the interest felt by SirHenry in Irish affairs, which is not diminished by the fact that a nieceof Lord Ashbourne is married to his son. 

I think it was to him that I recommended another panacea for the evilsof Ireland, namely, that it would be a good plan to exchange Ireland forHolland, for the Dutch would reclaim Ireland, and the Irish wouldneglect the banks of Holland, with the eventual result that the livingIrish question would be washed away. 

Just now I alluded to a mayor, which reminds me of a story about anIrish mayoress. As his Majesty has by this time been entertained atseveral Corporation luncheons, it is not invidious to give the tale. 

The Mayoress, who was the heroine of the festal occasion in question, felt completely overpowered by the royal society in which she foundherself, and when seated at the meal next to the King, was absolutelyunable to articulate any reply at all to the observations he addressedto her, so eventually he gave her up, and turned his colloquialattentions to the lady on the other side. 

After a while, fortified by the champagne, the Mayoress grew morecourageous, and, admiring the gentleman in full uniform on her right, said to him:--

'Might I be so bowld as to ask whether you are Lord Plunket?'

'No, ' he replied, with a smile, 'I am not. '

'Would you mind telling me who you are, for I'm sure I don't know?'

'I am the Duke of Connaught, ' complaisantly replied her neighbour, uponwhich she gasped:--'Oh, God in Heaven, another of them!' and subsidedinto unbroken silence for the rest of the repast. 

Another amusing case of mistaken identity occurred when Mr. Gladstonewas concocting his treasonable Home Rule Bill. He had been informed thatLord Clonbrook would be able to give him invaluable information, so hetold his wife to ask him to luncheon. She, however, mistaking the name, invited the late Lord Clonmel, a jovial sportsman known to his friendsby the nickname of 'Old Sherry. '

Somewhat surprised at being thus honoured, Lord Clonmel consulted a fewcronies, who all advised him to accept, and in due course he proceededto Downing Street, where he found the French Ambassador was the onlyother guest. It is possible that Mr. Gladstone thought him a little oddand his attire somewhat demonstrative, but he was prepared for anyeccentricity in an Irish peer, and hardly noticed how excellently hisguest was doing justice to the meal, whilst preserving impenetrablesilence. Directly it was over, the Prime Minister took him apart, andsaid:--'Now I want you, privately and confidentially, to give me yourview of the exact relation between landlord and tenant in Ireland. '

'Absolute hell, my dear boy, absolute hell, ' was the emphatic reply ofthe old sportsman. 

That confidential conversation went no further; but I have never beensure that Lord Clonmel in the least overstated the case. 

This renewed allusion to the lower regions that appears so closelyconnected with Irish affairs reminds me of an amusing incident whichtook place in a Dublin tram. Two members of the fair sex were discussingtheir plans for the summer in the interior of a car, and one of them ina mincing brogue said to the other:--

'I think I shall go to England this summer; it is so difficult inIreland to get away from the vulgar Irish. '

'Faix, ' screamed in much indignation an old Biddy sitting opposite, 'ifit's the vulgar Irish you want to avoid, and the English you want to bemeeting, it's to hell you must go, and you'd better go there thissummer. '

That's the sort of quick retort which a Scotchman calls Irish insolence, but then, who expects appreciation of real wit from any one canny? Witis irresponsible, a truly Irish propensity. 

The two mincing young women were almost as much disgusted as another oldlady who found herself opposite a stalwart working man, who incensed herby his frequent expectoration. Gathering her skirts round her somewhatample form, she called the conductor and asked:--

'Is spitting allowed in this tram?'

'By all manes, me lady, ' was the gallant reply, 'shpit anywhere youlike. '

While alluding to trams, I cannot forbear relating one other Dublintale, which Lord Morris picked up from me and was fond of telling. Itsbrief course runs thus:--

'Would you tell me, if you plaze, where I'll find the Blackrock tram?'asked a fussy little old woman of a policeman, busily engaging inmanoeuvring the traffic of a crowded street. 

'In wan minute you'll find it in the shmall of your back, ' was thelaconic reply. 

The mere allusion to a query suggests how the British tourist invariablystarts trying to discuss the Irish question directly he is across theChannel, and the insoluble part to any Saxon is that half the Irish donot seem to desire a solution at all. 

'What a fine country this would be if it were peaceful, ' observed athoughtful Britisher, with a Cook's ticket in his pocket, on KillarneyLake. 

'Peace! What would we do with it?' was the scornful reply of hisboatman, surprised for once into ejaculating the truth. 

Some landlords know how hopeless it is to attempt to prevail againstthese sons of our epoch. 

'It has been of no use to hold up a candle to the hydra-headed devil, 'said one landlord to me about his tenants, 'for affability is moreexpensive than absenteeism. If I say, "Good morning, Tom, " the fellowexpects twenty per cent. Off the rent, and "How's your family?" isconsidered to imply forty per cent, abatement'--and that cannot becalled putting a premium on good fellowship from the landlord's point ofview. 

I have not said much about the way in which the Irish in America fosterinsurrection, because it does not come within my own province. But Ihave before me the type-written essay on the subject composed by a Kerrylandlord, who, in his lifetime, had exceptional opportunities of judgingof this in New York, and from it I am tempted to take a few sentences asthe manuscript is never likely to see the light of print. 

'There are three distinct types of the Irish-American Home Ruler, whohave been and are even now supporting with their dollars or theireloquence, the "Irish Cause" as it is somewhat vaguely termedthroughout the United States. They can be distinguished as follows:--

 '1. The American--born Irishman of immediate Irish descent. 

 '2. The native Irishman who has emigrated from Ireland. 

 '3. The American Irish-American of long American descent, who, though not inheriting a drop of Irish blood, is yet a vigorous if not obstreperous ally of the Irish party in America. This last is the most striking of the three, as on the face of it, he would not appear to have any logical _raison d'ętre_ as a political entity, but in reality exerts a powerful influence in favour of "the Cause. "

'One phase of the methods favoured by Irish-American Home Rulers is theingenuity with which cable reports, as printed in the newspapers, areutilised for platform purposes. Let an account be flashed under theAtlantic descriptive of some agrarian demonstration in Ireland, whichhaving been declared illegal, is dispersed by military. Forthwith theopportunity is seized, and on some public platform or at some bigbanquet, the fervid orator poses as the champion of human liberty. "Another British outrage upon the Irish people! A brutal and licentioussoldiery let loose to gag free speech and prevent, at the point of thebayonet, the exercise of the rights of freeman. Thank God, that you andI my Irish-American fellow-citizens, are living in this gloriousrepublic, where such things are impossible!"

'After hearing this amazing outburst, it is well to recall actual facts, and compare the methods of suppressing riots in the United States andthe United Kingdom. For example, on July 12, 1871, a number of Orangemenhad organised a procession through the principal thoroughfares of NewYork, which was resented by a large contingent of Catholic Irishmen, andon a violent collision ensuing, the State militia was called out torestore order, a task they most effectually accomplished by firingvolleys into the crowd of belligerents. The citizen soldiery of Americaare accustomed to adopt summary measures with impunity. They possess theresolution of the Irish constabulary without the uncomfortablevacillation of Dublin Castle to thwart their efforts. '

In the past the Irish vote in America has been hostile to England, andhas had much to do with that measure of ill-feeling in the United Stateswhich has deterred that Union of the Anglo-Saxon races that would enablethem to lick creation. 

An example may be cited in the case of Egan. This man was an ex-Fenianleader, who wielded much influence in Nationalistic circles as far backas the seventies, and when he was Treasurer of the Land League, he isdescribed by Mr. Michael Davitt--who ought to have a fine capacity fordiscriminating degrees of scoundrelism--as the most active and able ofthe Nationalist leaders in Dublin. Some time after the Phoenix Parkmurders he settled in the United States, and whilst distinguishinghimself by the exceptional violence of his appeals on behalf ofoutrageous Ireland, he was actually sent as American Minister to Chili. This would not have caused me to notice him here but because it isnecessary the community should be warned that, unlike a good many of hiscontemporaries and comrades, he is not an extinct volcano. On March 10of this current year, when still the chief Nationalist in the States, hehad a long interview with Count Cassini, the Russian Minister at theRussian Embassy at Washington, just before a meeting of all thediplomatic representatives, and the American correspondent of the_Morning Post_ does not hesitate to accuse Russia of financiallyassisting the cause which Egan fosters. This sort of thing ought not tobe ignored in England. As an international action, it is hitting belowthe belt, and when bad times come again to Ireland the Nationalists willlook to the Ministers of the Great Bear for funds, and are not likely tobe disappointed. Still it is curious that a Government which, at home, exiles Nihilists and other bomb-throwers should, abroad, givecontributions to the cause that instigated the blowing up of my house, and the outrages which rendered Ireland so notorious. 

Not many years ago my wife was once more seriously alarmed at Edenburnby the formidable proclivities of a man P----, who sat all day at mygate with a gun, which he said he used for shooting rabbits: but we allknew I was the rabbit he wanted to put in his bag. However, he has goneto another sphere, and I am spending the present summer of 1904 veryhappily in the same county. 

A couple of letters addressed there showing the way in which an oldwidow expresses herself, when after great labour she has deliveredherself of an epistle, may not prove undiverting. The point is theamount she can obtain from her children. 

'Samuel Mr. Hussey Esq. 

Sir--I hope you will be good enough to speak to Downing to give meJustice. They have any amount of cattle, 2 horses, and my son-in-law'swife carried 78 pounds book account before Mr. Downing got the case inhands I would get 2 hundred pounds. I think it little for me accordingto the means that was theirs. Now sir, two daughters very ritch sirminding milk and butter and the one taking it away and selling it. Myson is not wright in his health or mind. They turned him against me andhe is more foolish than your Honour would believe. He says he will givehis uncle that ran away long ago to America mortgage, that Mr. Downinggave him power to do what he like and those two daughters are very welloff and they will not allow me to do anything. Sir I am shamed of theway they are treating me. My health and mind is very good, thanks be toGod and to you two Sir. They would not give me the price of the habitthat was berried with their father. Sir it would not pay my debts andsupport me long. My father lived 100 years. The Judge said I would livelonger. Sir three hundred pounds is little enough for me according tothe means that is theirs. If I went into the workhouse I would not takewhat they wish to give me. Ł160 they are giving me and I have myConfidence in God and in your Honour's charity that you will be goodenough to speak for me. If the land don't sell to 5 hundred pounds Iwill give it back to the attorney. Will your Honour tell them and I'llpray to God sir ever to bless you. 

Faithfully, MARY LUCY. '

And the same dame favoured me with this further effusion:

'Mr. Hussey Esq. 

Sir--100 pounds was offered to me before the purchase, a foolish priestmaking little of me, himself trying to get it for his friends. TheBishop, Sir, is kind to me always. For he knows I was wronged and hedon't like the foolish priest, and when I complain of him he is verygood. Sir some good people tell me that anyone at all have no claim butmyself and I wish it was true as all is very valuable. Mr. Connor isvery truthful and nice to me Sir when I will see him I am very sure hewill wish me well and all the good Honourable Gentlemen and yourself arethe best of all to my equals. I know it very well and I will for everpray to God in Heaven for you. 

Faithfully, MARY LUCY. '

So a landlord and agent, even in 1904, still has a few of thepatriarchal attributes in the eyes of the tenants. But to sift wheatfrom chaff is easier than to sift truth from the lying blandishmentsemployed on such occasions. 

The reference to the priest shows that though always feared, when theland-passion seizes a parishioner, he is set at as much defiance aspossible, should he be moderate, and these are the only occasions whenthey venture to tell their confessor unpleasant truths to his face, forin some country districts they are still convinced that the priests havepower to transform them into frogs and mice. 

A priest once threatened a bibulous parishioner, that if he did notbecome more sober in his habits, he would change him into a mouse. 

'Biddy, me jewel, I can't believe Father Pat would have that power overme, ' said the man that same evening as the shadows fell, 'but all thesame you might as well shut up the cat. '

Over elections the priests have paramount influence as I have alreadyshown, but may cite an example at the last County election in Kerry, when three candidates stood, Sir Thomas Esmonde (Anti-Parnellite), Mr. Harrington (Parnellite), and Mr. Palmer (Conservative). The last-namedout of a poll of six thousand obtained seventy votes. One of them wasgiven after the following fashion. 

An illiterate voter at Killorglin being asked in the polling booth howhe wished to vote, replied:--

'For my parish priest. '

'But he is not a candidate. The three are Esmonde, Palmer, andHarrington. '

'Well, then, I'll vote for Palmer, because it is more like Father Lawlerthan the others. '

Naturally all concerned were convulsed with laughter, but the vote wasduly recorded. 

It is no uncommon thing to see priests carefully teaching illiteratevoters the appearance of the name of the candidate for whom they are topoll, and also giving them printed cards merely containing his name, sothat they can recognise it on the voting-card. 

Of course an Irishman would take a bribe one way and calmly voteanother. But even this diplomatic tendency is outwitted by the priests, for nowadays, when they have any doubt of the political sincerity of aman, they insist on his declaring himself an illiterate voter. Then thewhole question of who is to be voted for is gone through audibly andverbally, so that the honesty of the voter is known to those hanginground. In the parish of Milltown, the education is as complete as in anyin Ireland, but at the last election, one third of the voters confessedthemselves illiterate, with the result anticipated by the priest. 

If the priest understands his parishioner--a thing which admits of nopossible shadow of doubt--it is equally certain that the Englishman doesnot, as is shown by the following frivolous tale, always a favourite ofmine. 

'Paddy, ' said a tourist at Killarney, 'I'll give you sixpence if you'lltell me the biggest lie you ever told in your life. '

'Begorra, your honour's a gentleman! Give me the sixpence!'

No one would have thought of making such an offer to an English loafer, and no English loafer would have had the wit to so neatly earn hisemolument. 

It is the assumption of simplicity that does the trick, and so well isthat put on that it comes close to the real thing. 

The other day, when the King and Queen were at Punchestown, a Britisherchartered a car at Naas to drive out to the course, and on the wayremonstrated with the carman on the starved condition of his horse, whose ribs would have served for an anatomical study. 

'Well, your honour, ' the jarvey explained, 'it's an unlucky horse. '

'How unlucky?' asked the Englishman. 

'Well, it's this way, your honour. Each morning I toss with that horsewhether he shall have his feed of oats or I have my glass of whisky, andwould your honour credit it, the horse has lost these ten days past. '

I am reminded of the reply given by Lord Derby to a gentleman who senthim a dozen of very light claret, which he said would suit his gout. Lord Derby subsequently thanked him, but said he preferred the gout, andI have no doubt that that horse, had he been able to give tongue, wouldhave been an ardent upholder of teetotalism when it ensured him a feedof oats. 

One more story of Lord Derby, as I have just mentioned his name:--

A worthy trader had bothered him to let him stand for a certain boroughon the Tory ticket, but the Whig was returned unopposed on the day ofthe nomination, and the candidate was subsequently attacked by LordDerby for not coming forward as he had promised. 

The man was almost as shaky in his aspirates as in his politicalpropensities, and his reply was:--

'I would have stood, my lord, but there was a 'itch in the way. '

'It was the more necessary for you to come to the scratch, ' was theimmediate retort. 

I always find that story popular at the Carlton, where I spend myafternoons when in London. I was proposed by Mr. James Lowther andseconded by the Duke of Marlborough, and very much obliged have I beento them both, for I have many acquaintances there, and it has all theconveniences of a comfortable hotel, without having to pay extravagantlyfor the privilege of looking at a waiter. 

In the intervals of reading the papers and listening to other people, Ihave there, as elsewhere, endeavoured to impart what I know to otherswho know nothing about Ireland. They know much more about China or theaboriginal tribes of Australia, in London, than they do on the topicsdearest to me. 

An English Radical member, after a long chat with my son Maurice, observed:--

'You actually mean to say that if Home Rule were given to Ireland youwould not be allowed to reside there?'

'Certainly not, ' replied Maurice, who knew what he was talking about. 

The member replied that he could not believe him, but that if he hadknown that that was the real nature of the Bill he would never havevoted for it. 

I could not desire a better example of English wisdom on thissubject--one which Lord Rosebery has consigned to a distant date infuturity, foreseeing that if the Opposition are to be handicapped withHome Rule they will not stand a forty to one chance at the nextelection. 

That election will, of course, turn on Protection, and I am thereforetempted to quote from an article I contributed to _Murray's Magazine_ inJuly 1887, entitled 'After the Crimes Bill, What Next?' for I feel myforecast of over fourteen years ago may serve a useful purpose to-day. It ran thus:--

'In my next suggestion I feel that I am treading on dangerous ground;still, having undertaken to suggest a remedy for Irish discontent andanarchy, I must not shrink from offending the prejudices of some of thewise men of England. 

'Ireland is an agricultural country. There are in Ulster, as in Englandand Scotland, factories which support the greater portion of thepopulation, and cause the prosperity of the province; but outside ofUlster, cattle and butter are the staple products. And how does Irelandstand in her only market, England, as compared with other nations? Sheenjoys free trade in butter, no doubt, but so do France and Holland; butthese countries, while they find an open market in England, tax allEnglish and Irish productions, and being manufacturing countriesthemselves they can afford to sell butter at so cheap a rate as to swampIreland's market. A slight protective duty on foreign butter would behailed with gratitude in Ireland, and do more to allay discontent thanany further acts of so-called "generosity. "

'Again, the great thinly peopled countries of the West find in England afree market for cattle and flour, and America taxes very highly allEnglish goods. Why not place Ireland on a par with America, by levying aslight protective duty on American beef and flour? Every little villagein Ireland formerly had its flour mill, which worked up the corn grownin the country as well as imported grain. These mills are now generallyidle and the men who worked them ruined. A small duty on manufacturedflour would restore this industry, and enable men with some capital togive employment to labour, and to work up in small quantities for thefarmer, at a cheap rate, their home-grown corn, as well as to grindimported grain. Our own colonies may have, no doubt, a right to objectto our taxing their goods, but not so foreign countries. 

'The Free Trade system of England would, no doubt, have been successfulif reciprocated. But the question is worth considering, whether theEnglish people do not now lose more by taxation resulting from thechronic state of rebellion in Ireland than she gains by bringing inAmerican beef and flour, and foreign butter and butterine, free, to theimpoverishment of Ireland, and of the agricultural portions of Englandand Scotland? "Remedial measures" for an agricultural country arecertainly not those which spoil its market. '

Don't dismiss that as pre-Chamberlainese Protection for it is sheercommon-sense on a matter of national importance, and what I wrote in1887, after many years, has become part of the political convictions ofa great and an increasing party. 

I wonder what the Protective party will be like when it eventually comesinto office. Promises out of office are often the whale which onlyproduces the sprat of legislation when the time of fulfilment arrives. This is an impartial opinion on most Cabinets of the last fifty years. 

One of the few occasions on which a recent British Government hasrecently shown some signs of appreciating a really keen and capable manwas when they made Mr. Ellison Macartney, Master of the Mint. 

I wrote and congratulated him, observing that I hoped he would never beshort of money, but if that was his plight all he had to do was to coinit for himself. 

I have a bad recollection for faces, and one day in Dublin his fathercame up to me, and seeing I did not remember him, recalled a story withwhich I had amused him in the lobby of the House of Commons. 

It was to this effect, and may prove new to others:--

Coming out of Glasgow one evening two Irishmen waylaid a Scotsman forthe sake of plunder. He was nearly enough for them both, but numbersprevailed, and when they had mastered him, after searching his pockets, they only found three halfpence. 

Said one Hibernian to the other:--

'Glory be to the Saints, Mick, what a fight he made for threehalfpence. '

'Oh, ' replied the other, 'it was the mercy of the Lord he had nottuppence, or he'd have killed the pair of us. '

Killing suggests the Kerry militia, the corps in which no one diesexcept of good fellowship, one which has done a good deal to unite thedivergent interests of north and south Kerry, and which provides finephysical development for soldiers of all ranks. 

Last year the militia received a grant of Ł120 from Government to beexpended on route marching with the band through the county in order topromote recruiting. The net haul in the Milltown district was thevillage idiot, who promised to enlist after the next sessions if thejailer did not take him--he being apprehensive of committal to prison. 

But even this was not enough, for his mother came to a neighbouringmagistrate, weeping and praying for his remission, because--

'It was a drunken freak on Patrick, for if the lad had kept his senses, sure, he would never have done it. '

Another Kerry man being asked why his son did not enlist, replied:--

'Ah, Jamsie was not a big enough scamp for the militia, because you haveto be a great blackguard before you can get in there. '

Which shows that the camel and needle's eye trick is easier to performthan to induce a country-bred man to enlist in the King's militia;though once in, every fellow loves it. 

This intimation of an army suggests an anecdote of the past war-time. The militia was being embodied, and several landlords who heldcommissions were going under canvas with the corps at Gosport. One ofhis tenants stopped a popular landlord on the road and asked:--

'What do you want to go to be shot at by them Boers for, sir?'

'To be sure, Tim, my tenants have the first right to shoot me, have theynot?' was the prompt reply. 

The fellow roared with laughter at the retort, and after shaking hands, wished him luck. 

It was also characteristic of Irish proclivities for a soft-voiced womanon the estate to say to Miss Leeson Marshall:--

'When the war broke out first we were all praying that the English mightbe beaten out of South Africa. Then when Mr. Marshall went away to thearmy, we thought we should not like his side to lose, so we changed ourprayers round by the blessing of God and His Saints. '

If any real impression has been given in these pages of the inconsistentIrish character, the genuine character of this sentiment will becomprehensible. It has been said that an Irishman will tell the truthabout everything except one thing--that, of course, is a horse. When notengaged in shooting his landlord, the tenant is by no means disaffectedto him, whilst the female appurtenances, mindful of all the small dolesthey obtain, are much more voluble in their cordial protestations. 

Sometimes the women are enigmatical: one does not know if they areacting out of kindness or from duplicity. For example, not so long ago agirl came up to one of my daughters in the road and said to her:--

'For the love of God tell your mother to order your father's coffin forhe'll need it, the Saints preserve us. '

And with that she started away before there was time to reply. 

Nothing came of it, of course: nothing ever has, of real importance. 

Nothing, alas, also seems so often to be the verdict on life whenlooking back. Mine, however, has been too full a one, not only withgriefs and trials but also with happiness and fun, for me to dismiss itthus. There has been so much more to live through than to write about, and yet, in these pages, has been told something which would have gonefor ever untold if I had not in old age become garrulous. Thingsforgotten have been recalled to my mind and may prove suggestive toother people who read them, and it is my hope, in concluding, that Ihave provided diversion and a little food for reflection. 

I feel that a critic may consider too much that has been set down hereis disconnected, yet if he will let a gramophone record an animatedconversation, he will find that it ebbs and flows with the uncertainbabbling of a brook--and so it has been with me. Only the other day, inthe preface to Camden's _History of the British Islands_, I came acrossthe phrase:--

'bookes receive their doome according to the reader's capacitie, '

and that alone emboldens me to hope for some measure of success for thepresent volume. Readers do not always want serious subjects, and it isin an hour when they desire a little diversion that I hope myreminiscences may commend themselves, for in a phrase not unknown in mynative Kerry, this book consists of 'little things, and that away. '

THE END

INDEX

Abbey of St. Denis, Paris, 79. Abbeyfeale, 253, 259. Abercorn, Duke of, 165. Aberdeen, Earl of, 167-168. ---- Lady, 167-168. Acts-- Arrears, 183, 184, 197. Crimes, 183, 262. Encumbered Estate, 71. Habeas Corpus Suspension, 225. Irish Church, 44, 180-181. Land, _see under_ Land. Riot, 251. Union, of, 180. Westminster, of 1871, 251. Adams, Mr. Gould, of Kilmachill, 207. Aghabey, 83. Aghadoe, 3, 95, 254. Agriculture, Commission on, 268. Albert, Prince, 163. America, Irish dissatisfaction fostered in, 289; Home Rulers in, 289-290. Anderson, Rev. J. A. , O. S. A. , 99. Ardfert, 3. Argyll, Duke of, 174. Ashbourne, Lord, 286. Athenry, 171. Avonmore, Lord, 12. 

Balfour, Mr. A. J. , Chief Secretaryship of, 172-174. ---- Mr. Gerald, Chief Secretaryship of, 172-173. ---- of Burleigh, Lord, 274. Ballincushlane, 121. Ballot, effects of introduction, 194. Bally M'Elligott, 6. Ballybeggan, 4. Ballybunion, 90. Ballyporeen, Petty Sessions at, 164. Ballyvourney parish, 71, Bandon, Lord, 121. Bantry, 13, 39, 52. Barry, Lord Justice, 21-22, 216. Barter, Dr. , of Cork, 147. Bartlett, Sir Ellis Ashmead, 112. Batt, Father, 123-124. Beaconsfield, Earl of, 122, 167. 'Beal-Bo, ' 90-91. Beaufort, fenianism in, 254. Belfast, population of, 176. Bernard, Mr. Edward Morrogh, 265-266. ---- Mrs. Morrogh, 265-266. Bessborough, Earl of, 270. Bewlay, Mr. , 274. Bianconi, Mr. Charles, 78. Biggar, Mr. , Parnell Commission on, 278-280. Bishops, nomination of, 122. Blarney, monument at, 116. Blasquet Islands, Lord Cork's property in, 200. Blennerhassett, Mr. Arthur, 258. ---- Mr. And Mrs. Robert, 3. ---- Mr. Roland, K. C. , 95, 96. Bodkin, Galway family of, 7. Bogs, need for draining of, 141-142. Bogue, Farmer, 32-34, 110. Boycott, Captain, 213. Boycotting, 213, 214, 249, 250; Mr. Parnell on, 216-217. Brady, Lord Chancellor, 75. Breaing, value of land at, 259. Bright Clauses, the, 82. Bright, Mr. Jacob, 177. ---- Mr. John, 177. Brown, Valentine, 3-4. Buccleuch, Duke of, 268. Buller, Sir Redvers, 157. Burke, Mr. T. H. , 252. Burns, David, steward at Ardrum, 107. Byrne, Mr. , 89. 

Cadogan, Earl of, 169. Cahirciveen, fenianism at, 66, 152; drink traffic at, 113; poverty of, 214. Cahirnane, sale of, by Hussey family, 5. Cairns, Lord, 122, 271. Callaghan, Michael, 273. Callinafercy estate, 144, 159. Carden, Woodcock, ' 255. Carew Manuscript, the, 4. Carlingford, Lord, Mr. Chichester Fortescue, 165, 169, 204, 268, 269. Carlisle, Earl of, 162-163. Carlton Club, 117, 188, 297. Carlyle, Mr. Thomas, 283. Carnarvon, Earl of, 167. Cassini, Count, 291. Castle Gregory, Walter Hussey, owned by, 4. Castleisland, opposition to Mr. Hussey at, 84, 214, 215; Mr. Dease assaulted at, 95; drink traffic at, 102, 103. Castle of Doon, ruins of, 91. Castle-Drum, land owned by Hussey family at, 2. Castlerosse, Lord, 153-154. Cattle, outrages on, 220-221. Cavanagh, Mr. , 152. ---- Mrs. , 152-153. Cavendish, Lord Frederick, 174, 252. Chamberlain, Mr. Joseph, 86, 165, 175. Characteristics of Irish nature, 140-161. Charlestown, Land League outrage at, 253. Chatelherault, dukedom of, claimed by Duke of Abercorn, 165. Chief Secretaries-- Balfour, Mr. A. J. , 172-173. ---- Mr. Gerald, 172-173. Forster, Mr. W. E. , 170-173. Fortescue, Mr. Chichester (Lord Carlingford), 169. Lowther, Mr. James, 172, 174. Morley, Mr. John, 175. Naas, Lord, 169. Peel, Sir Robert, 169, 170. Trevelyan, Sir George, 174-175. Childers, Mr. , Royal Commission, on, 181, 284. Christian, Lord Justice, 83, 89. Clare, Earl of (Col. Fitzgibbon), 164. Clarendon, Earl of, 163. Clergy-- Protestant, 120-122. Roman Catholic, 115-120. Clonbrook, Lord, 287. Clonmel, Earl of, 287. Cobbe, Miss, 57, 177. Coffey, Bishop, 119. ---- Denis, 257. Colthurst, Sir George, 38, 49, 96; Ballyvourney, estate of, 208; Rathcole estate, outrages on, 212. Commissions on Land Question, Mr. Hussey's evidence before, 268-280; Parnell case, 275-280. Connor, Jeremiah, 245. ---- Thomas, 245. Constabulary, the, 127-132. Conway, Captain, 3. ---- Miss Avis (Mrs. Robert Blennerhassett), 3. Corelli, Miss Marie, 98. Cork and Orrery, Earl of, 199, 200, 218. _Cork Constitutional_, Edenburn outrage, on the, 239-240. ---- _Examiner_, the, 96, 97, 244. Corkaquiny, barony of, castles of the Hussey family in, 2. Corn Law question, 51. Corragun, Sir Dominic, 132. County Club, Cork, 49. ---- ---- Tralee, 97, 111, 242. Cowen, Mr. Joseph, 204. Cowper, Earl, 166; Commission of, on Land Act, 271-272. Cox, Sir William, 13. Creameries, establishment of, 161. Crime in Kerry, Judge O'Brien on, 229-234. Crosbie, Bishop John, 3. ---- Colonel, 229. Cruickshank family, the, 261. Curraghila, land value at, 259. 

_Daily Telegraph_, the, 222, 255. Daly, Cornelius, Denis, and John, 245. Davitt, Mr. Michael, 202, 260, 277, 278, 291. De Bruce, Edward, 13. De Freyne case, 118. De Huse, Herbert, 6. ---- or Hussy, Nicholas, 6. De la Huse, family name of Hussey, 6. De Lacy, Hugh, Earl of Ulster, 6. Dease, Mr. , assault on, 95, 97. ---- Sir Gerald, 95. Deasy, Lord Justice, 83. Delane, Anne, 272. Denny, Edmund, 3. ---- family, 8. ---- Miss, the 'Princess Royal, ' 8. ---- Mr. Francis, 155. Derby, Lord, Land League, threats from, 40; Archbishop Magee, opinion of, 44; anecdote of, 296. Derrynane Bay, smuggling at, 24. Desmond, Countess of, 282. Devonshire, Duke of, 269. Dillon, Mr. , 79. Dillwyn, Mr. , 94. Dinan, Jeremiah, 245. Dingle, Hussey family settled at, 2; present day, 5, 6; yeomanry corps of, 14; poverty of, 214. Dispensaries, 135-139. Doctors, dispensary, appointment of, 132. Dolly's Brae, Orange procession at, 163. Don, the O'Conor, 270. Doneghan, Mr. , 42-43. Donelly, Mr. William, 52. Donoughmore, Lady, 8. Donovan, Sir Henry, 99. Douglas, Mr. , 57. Downing, Miss Ellen, 'Mary, ' 63. ---- Mr. , 292. Dowse, Baron, land purchase, opinion on, 205; boycotting on, 214; Grand Jury of Kerry, address to, 261; commission on the Land Law, on, 270. Doyle family, 250. Drink, prevalence of, 101-114. Dublin, population of, 176. Dudley, Lord, 169. Dufferin, Lord, 185. Duffy, Mr. Charles Gavan, 100. Dun, Mr. Finlay, 192-193, 207, 209. Dunraven, Lord, 173, 271. 

Edenburn, home of Mr. Hussey at, 73, 80-81; outrage at, 235-247. Egan, Patrick, 291. Elections in Kerry, description of, 93-100. Emigration, agents' treatment of emigrants, 57; American offer to, 57-58. Emmett, Robert, 156. Engineering Surveyors' Institution, 42. Erne, Lord, 213. Esmonde, Sir Thomas, 294. Evictions, number of, on Lord Kenmare's estate, 221. 

Faith, Mr. George, 46. Famine, the, 50-59. Farms, sub-divisions of, 36. Farranfore, evictions at, 251. Fenianism, 60-70. FitzGerald, family of, 3. ---- Lady (Miss Julia Hussey), 16. ---- Mr. , member of Land Commission, 274. ---- Mrs. , 173. ---- Mrs. Robert (Miss Ellen Hussey), 16. ---- Richard, 245. ---- Sir Peter (Knight of Kerry), 16. Fitzpatrick, Sir Denis, 189. FitzWalter, Theobald, 6. Flaherty, Tim, 48. Forster, Mr. Arnold, 171. ---- Mr. W. E. , Chief Secretary, 163, 169, 170-172; criticism, sensitiveness to, 211; quoted, 216. Free Trade, 51, 299. _Freeman_, the, 96. French, Mr. , 222. Froude, Mr. J. A. , Mr. Hussey and, friendship between, 5, 177, 227, 282-285. Fry Commission, the, 185, 272. ---- Sir Edward, 272. 

Gadstone and Ellis, Messrs. , 258. Generals, famous Irish, 156-157. Gentleman, Mr. Goodman, 82. ---- Mr. Henry, 24. 5. Geraldine family, the, 192. Gladstone, Mr. -- Irish emigration, attitude towards, 58. Legislation, effects of, 60-61, 67, 108, 131, 179-193. Letter to, from Mr. Arthur Blennerhassett, 258-259. Mr. Hussey and, 84, 177-178. Mr. W. E. Forster and, 170, 171. Nationalist party, attitude towards, 195-196. ---- Mrs. , anecdotes of, 45, 287. Glasgow, morality of, 36. _Globe_, the, 256. Godfrey, Dowager Lady, 73. ---- Sir John, 154, 155. Gough, Lord, 157. Granard, Earl of, 118, 259. Grant, Mr. , 193. Granville, Earl, 165. Graves, Mr. , 48. Griffin, Andrew, 264. Guest, Sir Ivor, 166. Guillamore, Chief Baron, 160. Gull, Mr. , 132. 

Haggerty, Jeremiah, outrage on, 217. Harenc estate, the, bought by Mr. Samuel Hussey, 82-92, 278; Land Act, effect on, 274. Harenc, Mr. , death of, 82. Harnett, Mr. , 251. Harrington, Mr. T. , 263-264, 294. Harris, Mr. Matthew, 251. Headley, Lord, 254, 255. Henry, Mr. Mitchell, 204. Herbert family, the, 5. ---- Mr. Charles, 3. ---- Mr. A. E. , 252, 255; murder of, 226-227. ---- Mr. William, 3. Hewson, Mr. , 84. Hickson, Captain John, ' Sovereign of Dingle, ' anecdote of, 13-14. ---- Colonel, 273. ---- Mr. , 79. Hickson, Mr. Robert, 13. ---- Mrs. , 53. ---- Mrs. Judith, 15. Higgins, Bishop, 119. Hitchcock, Mr. , 6. Hoffman, tenant of Mr. Hussey, case of, 273. Hogan, William, 245. Hogg, Mr. , 21. Home Rule Bill, 282, 287, 297. ---- ---- Party, the, 194-195. ---- Rulers, Irish-American, 289-290. Hore, Mr. , house and haggards of, burnt, 4. Houghton, Lord, 168-169. Howorth, Sir Henry, 285-286. Huddard's School at Dublin, 20-21. Huddleston, Mr. Henry, house of, burnt, 4. Husse, Sir Hugh, 6. Hussey, origin of name, 6. ---- Colonel Maurice, 5-6, 100. ---- Miss Anne, 19. ---- ---- Clarissa, 126. ---- ---- Mary, 16. ---- Mr. Edward, 16. ---- ---- James, 15-16, 19. ---- ---- John, brother of Mr. Samuel, 15. ---- ---- ---- son of Mr. Samuel, 16. ---- ---- Maurice, 16, 253, 297. ---- ---- Michael, M. P. For Dingle, 7. ---- ---- 'Red Precipitate, ' 10, 12, 15. ---- ---- Robert, 16. ---- ---- Samuel, M. , parentage of, 10-12; early life and education of, 20-29; farming, 30-37; land agent in Cork, 38 _et seq. _; to Colthurst property, 71; candidature of, for Parliament, 96, 98; Irish Land Act Commission, evidence before, 205-206, 268-280; press criticisms of, 209-210, 248, 255, 256, 275; Land Leaguers, threats from, 214, 224, 235-247; Edenburn outrage, 235-247; 'Woodcock, ' 255; land sales, series of, letter to the _Times_ regarding, 259; _Times_, letter to, _re_ Mr. Harrington, 263-264; Parnell Commission, evidence before, 276-280; Froude, friendship with, 282-285; Sir Henry Howorth, friendship with, 285-286; Protection, opinion on, 297-299. ---- ---- Walter, 4. Hussey, Mrs. (Miss Mary Hickson), 53; descent of, 12-13. ---- ---- Samuel (Miss Julia Agnes Hickson), 13. ---- Sir John, Earl of Galtrim, 6. 

Inch East and Ardroe, 258. ---- Island, 258. Industries, 142. Inniscarra, 38. _Irish Citizen_, the, 248. Irish Land Commission, Mr. Hussey's evidence before, 205, 270-275. Iveragh, barony of, 18. 

Jeffreys, Mr. , 49. Jenkinson, Mr. , 246. Jenner, Mr. , 132. Johnson, Judge, 83. 

Kanturk, 108. Keagh, Judge, anecdote of, 87-88; opinion of Irishmen, 130. Kellegher, Mr. Jerry, anecdotes of, 10-12. Kellehers, the, 88. Kelly, Miss Mary, 'Eva, ' 63. Kenmare family, the, 3. ---- Earl of, succession to title, 95; expenditure on estate improvements, 152, 196, 209, 221; anecdote of, 153; criticisms of, 209, 255; House of Commons, debate on estate of, 221; departure from Ireland, 224. ---- district, poverty of, 214. Kerry, population, etc. , of, 36-37; clergy and churches in, 119_Kerry Sentinel_, Edenburn outrage, on the, 240. Kilcockan parish, land value in, 193. Kilcoleman, woods of, 155. Kildare Street Club, 49. Killarney, crime in, 66, 214. ---- House, home of Lord Kenmare, 115, 209. Killeentierna House, home of Mr. A. Herbert, 226. ---- parish, church revenue of, 121. Killiney parish, property of Hussey family in, 4. Killorglin, Puck Fair at, 95, 104, 105; voting at, 294. Kilmainham gaol, 68. Kilronan, evictions at, 258. Kimberley, Earl of (Lord Wodehouse), 164, 165. Kitchener, Lord, 157. 

Laing, Mr. , M. P. For Orkney, 198-199, 200. Land Acts, Wyndham, the, 40, 41, 58, 187-188, 192; Ashbourne, the, 41, 264; Balfour's, of 1896, 84; Gladstone's, of 1870, 181, 185-186; of 1881, 71, 181-189; effects of, 196-200, 274, 282. Land League-- Church and, 118. Effects of, 199-200, 202, 208. Outrages of, 199, 212-222, 246, 248, 267. Le Fanu, Mr. W. R. , 77. ----Mr. Sheridan, 77. Leary, Darby, 245. Lecky, Mr. , 100, 283. Leehys, the, feud of, 88. Lefevre, Mr. Shaw, Commission of, 269. Lehunt, Colonel, 4. Leinster, Duchess of, 169. Leitrim, Lord, 226. Limerick, Mr. Hogg's school at, 21. Lismore, famine fever at, 54; agricultural depression in, 193; estate of Duke of Devonshire at, 269-270. Listowel, crime in, 87, 214. Lloyd, Mr. Clifford, 128. Lockwood, Mr. Frank, 277. Logue, Dr. , Archbishop of Armagh, 118. Lombard and Murphy, Messrs. , 83. Londonderry, Marquis of, 168. Longfield, Judge, 258. Longford, clerical help for Lord Granard in, 118. Lord-Lieutenants-- Abercorn, Duke of, 165. Aberdeen, Earl of, 167-168. Cadogan, Earl of, 169. Carlisle, Earl of, 162-163. Carnarvon, Earl of, 167. Clarendon, Earl of, 163. Cowper, Earl, 166. Dudley, Earl of, 169. Houghton, Lord, 168-169. Kimberley, Earl of, 164. Londonderry, Marquis of, 168. Marlborough, Duke of, 165-166. Spencer, Earl, 166-167. Zetland, Earl of, 168. Lower Curryglass, agricultural depression in, 193. Lowther, Mr. James, 172, 174, 297. Lucy, Mary, letters of, to Mr. Hussey, 292-293. Luxnow, 83. 

Macaulay, Dr. , 117. Macartney, Mr. Ellison, 299. MacCarthy, Bishop, 119. ---- Florence, 4. ---- Mr. , 115. MacCarty, Mr. Daniel, 18. MacGregor, Sir Duncan, 128. Magee, Archbishop, 35, 44-45. Magheries, the, owned by the Hussey family, 4. Maguire, Mr. , M. P. For Cork, 43. Mahaffy, Prof. , 252. _Manchester Guardian_ on the Edenburn outrage, 238-239. Marlborough, Duchess of, 206. ---- Duke of, 165-166, 297. Marriage customs, 142-146. Marshall, Miss Leeson, 301. ---- Mr. Leeson, 144, 159, 206; anecdote of, 301. Martin, Miss, books of, 30. ---- Mr. Richard, M. P. , 55. ---- Mr. Robert, 274. Mason, John, 245. Matthew, Father, 61, 101-102. Maynooth, 116, 118, 122, 180. M'Calmont, Captain, 261. M'Carthy, Mr. Justin, 264. M'Cowan, Mr. , of Tralee, 220. M'Elligott, John, 245. Merry, Mr. Andrew, 120. Milnes, Mr. Monckton, 168. Millstreet, crime in, 217, 222. Milltown, voting at, 295. ---- Fair, price of cattle at, 273. Minard Castle, 4. Minerals, 142. Mitchel, Mr. John, 55, 64. Monaghan, Chief Justice, 87. Monk, Lord, 94. Monsell, Hon. Mrs. , 65. Moore, Mr. Crosbie, 164-165. Moriarty, Dr. , Bishop of Killarney, 66, 67, 119. Morley, Mr. , 170, 175-176, 177, 178. _Morning Post_, 291. Morris, Lord, anecdotes of, 69, 76, 87, 137, 167-168, 170, 254-255, 288. ---- Mr. Edward, 111-112. Mountmorres, Lord, 226. Moynihar, Michael, 245. Muckross, 5, 166. Müller, Prof. Max, 131. Mullins, Miss, 8. Murder, encouragement of, 227-228. Murphy, Cornelius, murder of, 231. ---- Mr. , 88. ---- Patrick, of Rath, case of, 222. Murray, George, 13. ---- Judith, 13. ---- Mrs. William (Miss Anne Grainger), 13. ---- ---- (Miss Ann Hornswell), 13. ---- Sir Walter, Lord of Drumshegrat, 12. ---- Mr. William, 13. _Murray's Magazine_, 297. 

Naas, Lord, 169. ---- posting arrangements at, 31. Nagle, Mr. , 46-47. Nason family, 193. National League Police, 250. Nationalists, the, 196. Neill, Daniel, 245. Neligan, John, 245. _New York Tablet_, the, 210. Nicoll, Mrs. , 241. Nield, Mr. , 253. Nolan, Mr. , of Ballinderry, 55. Normanton, Lord, 259. 

O'Brien, Judge, address to Grand Jury on state of Kerry, 228-234. ---- Smith, 64-65. O'Connell, Mr. Daniel, anecdotes of, 10, 160; family of, 24-25. ---- ---- ---- (junior), 152. ---- ---- John, 25. ---- ---- Morgan, 24. ---- ---- Philip, anecdote of, 48. ---- Mrs. , 78. ---- Sir James, 25-26. O'Connor, Father M. , 92. ---- Fergus, anecdote of, 76. ---- Mr. T. P. , 62. O'Conor Don, the, 270. O'Donnell _v. _ the _Times_, 274. O'Donoghue, Rev. Denis, 96. ---- the, 221; election of, 98-99. O'Hagan, Lord, 89. Oliver, Colonel, 199. Ormsby, Judge, 82, 83. O'Shaughnessy, Mr. , 273. O'Shea, Daniel, 210, 255. O'Sullivan, James, 245. 

Palmer, Mr. , 294. Parliament, Irish Members of, 194 _et seq. _Parnell Commission, 68, 104, 275-280. ---- Mr. , fenian leadership of, 65, 156; Lord Carnarvon and, 167; Land League and, 195, 202, 216; speech quoted on boycotting, 249. Parnellism and crime, 275. Peel, Sir Robert, 51, 76. ---- ---- ---- (the younger), 169. Pembroke, Earl of, 271. Phoenix Park murder, the, 252. ---- Society, the, 65. Pigott, Richard, 275-276. Pitt, Mr. William, 180. Plunkett, Mr. T. O. , 222. ---- Sir Horace, 161. Price, Professor Bohnamy, 268. Protection, Mr. Hussey on, 297-299. Puck Fair, 95, 104-105. Punchestown, 296. 

Quill, Patrick, 273. 

Ray, Mr. Jack, anecdote of, 154-155. Regiura Donum, Presbyterian grant, 180. Reid, Mr. , 277. ----Sir Wemyss, 171, 211. Reynolds, Alderman John, 75-76. ----John, 245. Richmond and Gordon, Duke of, 204, 268. Roberts, Earl, 157. Roche, Mr. R. , 240. Roden, Lord, 163. Ronayne, Mr. Joseph, M. P. For Cork, 46. Rosebery, Earl of, 171. Ross, Judge, 41. Rossa, O'Donovan, 65. Rossbeigh, Land League at, 266. Royal Commission on Agriculture, 204. Russell, Lord John, 51, 163. ----Sir Charles, 276-277. 

Sadler, Colonel, 4. Saint Alban's, Holborn, Church of, 122. Saint Anne's, Soho, Church of, 34. Saint James's Club, 57. Salisbury, Lord, Commission on Land Act of 1881, 271. Sandes, Mr. , 97. Savings Banks, increase of deposits, 191. Saxe, Marshal, anecdote of, 62-63. Schoolmasters, appointment of, 133. Scottish character, 35-36. Scully, Mr. , 94. Sexton, Mr. , 222. Shaftesbury, Lord, 122. Shanahan, Robert, 151. ----Thomas, 245. Shaw, Mr. , 270. Sheehan, Mr. , 252. Sheehy, Father, 252. Shiel, Sir George, 122. Smerwick Harbour, 2. Smith, Mr. Charles, historian, 2, 6. ----Sidney, 136. Somerville, Miss, 30. Spencer, Lord, anecdote of, 166-167; Land Act, opinion on, 203; Coercion Act, opinion on, 225. Spiddal, 137. Standford, Mr. , 99. Stansfield, Lord, 204. _Star_ newspaper, 275. Stephen, Sir James, quoted, 250-251. Stevens, Captain, 110. Stephens, James, 'Number One, ' 65, 68, 156. Stuart, Mr. , 258, Sullivan, Sir Edward, 166. _Sunday Democrat_ newspaper, 255. 

Tanner, Dr. , 112. Thackeray, William Makepeace, 78. Thorneycroft, Colonel, 16. _Times_ newspaper, the-- Edenburn outrage, on the, 239, 242-243. Encumbered Estate Act, quoted on, 71. Mr. Hussey's letter to, on land values, 259; Lord Kenmare's estate, 221. O'Donnell _v. _, 274-275. Parnell Commission, Mr. Hussey's evidence before, 276-280. Traill, Dr. Anthony, 272. Tralee, drink traffic in, 113. --County Club, 97, 111, 242. Trant family, the, 107. Trench, Mr. Steuart, famine described by, 50-51. ----Townshend, 17, 277. Trevelyan, Sir George, 174-175. Trinity College, Dublin, 117. Tucker, Sir Charles, 157. Tulla, outrage at, 171, 216. Tullamore, Mr. Forster's speech at, 216. Tweedmouth, Lord, 167. Tynan, 'Number One, ' 65, 156. 

Union Club, 246. _United Ireland_ newspaper, 244, 249, 251. University, Roman Catholic, for Ireland, Mr. Hussey's opinion regarding, 116-117. 

Ventry Harbour, 2, 4. ---- Lady, famine, help in, 53, 54. ---- Lord, 46. 

Wallace, Mr. Paul, 48. Walsh, Dr. , Archbishop of Dublin, 118. Wellington, Duke of, 157, 163. White, Mr. Richard, of Inchiclogh, 55. ---- Sir George, 157. Whiteboys, 14, 61-62. Whiteside, Chief Justice, 89. Wilde, Lady, 'Speranza, ' 63. ---- Oscar, 63. Winn, Mr. , 255. Wolseley, Lord, 157, 283. Wrench, Mr. , 274. Wright, Mr. Huntley, quoted, 101. 'Wuffalo Will, ' 64. Wyndham, Mr. , 58, 129. 

York, Duke of, 173. Youghal, 193. Young Ireland Party, 63. ---- Mr. , 99. 

Zetland, Earl of, 168. 

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