The Only Industry Of Any Kind Which I Saw Between Skibbereen And Bandon
Was A Slate Quarry Which They Told Me Shipped A Great Quantity Of Slates
Besides Supplying Local Demands.
As we advanced eastward we left the
heather-clad mountains behind us, the landscape softened down
considerably, and became almost empty of inhabitants.
That reminds me
that about Skull was almost emptied of inhabitants also. About the time
of the great famine the people fled away. The remains of houses are
scattered all along on that road. Some cause has also emptied this part
of the country of people. There is much unreclaimed land here, which is
not to be wondered at, seeing that a fine for reclamation was exacted in
the shape of increased rent.
Clonakilty is another little town thronged with small traders and places
"licensed to sell." As we passed east the long boundary walls that
enclose gentlemen's plantations begin to prevail.
A little way, maybe two miles, out of Clonakilty is the property of Mr.
Bence Jones, who has created some stir in the world. One hears story
after story of his grasping and overbearing disposition. The chief
accusation is adding to a man's rent if his father dies. Case after case
of this was spoken of by the passengers on the car with me. Whether
these accusations against Mr. Bence Jones were true or false, here is
his place, and a very fine place it is. The lodge is at one side of the
road, the entrance to his residence at the other.
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