Lobsters
could be purchased in their season at Montreal, but not at the seaports
in Mayo. I asked for a bit of fish at Castlebar, where I remained some
time, and once succeeded in buying a small herring, for which I paid 2
1/2 pence.
To return to Pontoon; we stood on the bridge in the sunlight and drank
in the scene - broad blue waters, spotted with islands, guarded by the
munitions of rocks, watched over by the eternal mountains, bald and
wrinkled, every wrinkle scored deep on their brows, heather on the
cliffs, ivy creeping some places, ferns waving their delicate fronds in
another; bare, desolate grandeur here, tree-crowned hill tops waving
their magnificence before you there. This was the scene spread out on
either hand.
We came back over the bridge to the police barracks, sitting on a rock
with its back to a grove of trees, and reached by a flight of stone
steps. I was introduced to the sergeant in charge, a fine specimen of
the Donegal men. Tall and straight, strong and kindly are the men of
Donegal. The sergeant took us to a hill back of the barracks where was a
very lonely vale surrounded by steep hills wooded to the top. Down the
perpendicular sides of this hill a waterfall dashes in the rainy
seasons, but it was only a tinkling splash at this time. The sergeant
and I had some conversation about Donegal, and of course Lord Leitrim.
This noblemen has graven his name with an iron pen and lead on the rocks
for ever.
We bade adieu to the kindly sergeant and drove back to Castlebar in the
quiet evening. Opposite the Turlough round tower is the charming
residence of a Fitzgerald, one of the race whose dust moulders in an
aristocratic manner in the ruined abbey of Turlough. This gentleman, not
thinking himself safe even under protection, has left the country. Only
fancy a squad of police marching from their barracks in the dusk, five
or ten miles as the case may be, pacing round a gentleman's house in
rain or snow, sleet or hail, no shelter for their coercion heads, no
fire at which to warm their protecting fingers; pace about from dusk
till dawning, march back to barracks and to a few hours' rest. I was
silly enough to suppose that the protected family would provide a bowl
of hot coffee for their protectors through the silent watches of the
night, or a glass of the handier and very popular whiskey, but dear, oh
no! the most of them would not acknowledge the existence of the Royal
Irish protectors with a word or a nod no more than if they were watch
dogs.
XXXVII.
CASTLEBAR - WASTING THE LAND - CASTLE BOURKE - BALLINTUBBER ABBEY.
Castlebar is not a large town at all. It is, like all other towns which
I have yet seen in Ireland, swarming with houses licensed to sell
liquors of different kinds to be drunk on the premises. In one street I
noticed on the side of the car on which I sat every house for quite a
little distance was a licensed whiskey shop.
The country people bring in ass-loads of what they have to sell. Very
few horses are to be seen in the hands of country people. Their trading
is on a decidedly small scale. The number of women who attend market
barefoot is the large majority. The ancient blue cloth cloak is the
prevailing hap. Upon a day my friend and I went out to see the glories
of Ballintubber Abbey. It was not possible for him to go in plain
clothes so soon again; so I had the appearance of an obnoxious lady of
the land, protected by a member of the force.
We drove out of Castlebar some seven or eight miles in the opposite
direction from where Pontoon Bridge lies. Our road lay for miles through
the country wasted of inhabitants by the Marquis of Sligo after the
great famine. Here and there a ruin where a cabin has been speaks that
it was once inhabited. The people tell that Lord Sligo's people were
rented the land in common by the settlement. All but two of one
settlement had paid; as those two could not pay, the whole were evicted.
My informant thought the settlement deserved eviction when they did not
subscribe and pay for the two who could not pay. He never seemed to
think they might not be able to do so, nor that it was cruel to evict
all for the sake of two.
Lord Lucan made a great wasting also at that time. Between the land near
the town devoted to private demesnes, laid out for glory and beauty, and
the lands wasted of inhabitants, you can travel miles and miles on more
than one side of Castlebar and see scarcely a tenant; a herd's cabin, a
police station, being the only houses. As soon as we come to barren land
over-run with stones, tenant houses become thicker.
We passed a cabin of indescribable wretchedness; a woman who might have
sat for a picture of famine stood at the door looking at us as we
passed. She had a number of little children, of the raggedest they were,
around her. Some time ago the father of these scarecrows was suspected
of having stolen some money, and a posse of the much enduring police
were sent out to search in the dead of the night. The family were in
bed. The bed was a few boards laid on stones, on which was spread a
little green hay, and among the loose hay they slept. The terror of the
little creatures pulled out of bed, while the wretched lair was searched
and they stood on the floor naked and shivering, was described to me by
one who assisted at the search.
