We Drove Along The Road, A Bleak And Bare Road, With A Hill On One Side
Of It And A
Steep slope down on the other, until we came to a small
plantation, a lodge gate, and drove up an
Avenue with small plantations
of young trees here and there, some grass lands, a few beasts grazing
about, some signs of where flower beds and flower borders had been
better cared for once on a time than now, and came to a comfortable,
roomy square house finished in plaster. This was castle something, the
residence of the late Lord Mountmorris. With a blessing, content and
three hundred a year one could fancy that person sung of by Moore, "With
the heart that is humble," being able to make out life nicely here. When
a man has a title to his name with all the requirements which it implies
and demands, one could imagine a constant and wearing struggle going on.
I have earnestly and constantly sought to find a reason that could
possibly irritate an ignorant and exasperated peasant to the point of
taking the life of this man, I have found none. He was unhappily
addicted to drink, it is said, but he must have had a large majority of
the inhabitants of Ireland of all creeds and classes on the same side
with him in this, to judge by the number of houses licensed to sell
liquor to be drunk on the premises which are required for the drouthy
part of the population.
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