The Wretchedness Of The Tenants Could Be Seen By Every
Passer-By.
The peasantry tell of unspeakable orgies held at the castle
even upon the Sabbath day.
The change is something miraculous. The waste
pasture-like demesne is reclaimed and planted. The worst cabins have
entirely disappeared; the rest are improved till they hardly know
themselves.
They match the new cottages for which the proprietor took a prize. These
little homes with their climbing plants, their trim little gardens, look
as if any one might snuggle down in any of them and be content. The
castle itself looks altered; it has lost its grim Norman look, and
stands patriarchal and fatherly among the beautiful homes it has
created.
Not far from the castle gate is a pretty church and its companion, an
equally pretty building for the National School. I enquired of several
how this great improvement came about; the answer was always the same,
"The estate passed into the hands of a good man who lived on it, and he
had a godly wife." Passing the pretty little church I heard the sound of
children's voices singing psalms, and was told that the daughter of the
castle was teaching the children to sing; I noticed _In Memoriam_
on a stone in the building, and found that this church was built in
memory of the good lady of the castle, who has departed to a grander
inheritance, leaving a name that lingers like a blessing in the country
side. So the old landlord's loss of an estate has been great gain to
this people.
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