The driver, a Catholic, talked a little, guardedly, of
the high rents. A broken-down looking man, who opened the iron gates for
us into the ruins, complained heavily of the rents. He was only a
laborer himself, the farmer he worked for was paying fifty-five
shillings an acre for part of his farm and L3 for the rest. The land on
which I looked was rented at L3. My only wonder is that the lands thus
rented pay the rent alone without supporting in any manner the tillers
of the soil. It was all pasture at this particular place. The ruins here
of the church are very extensive, of the abbey only the fragment of a
wall is standing. My guides informed me that there was an underground
passage in old days between the abbey and the church, so that the bishop
was not seen from the time he left the abbey until he appeared on the
high altar.
They remarked that a story handed down from father to son as a true
record of a place should be believed before a written account. They made
no allowance for the coloring given to a story as it passed through the
imaginations of successive generations. I assured them that I accepted
all legends as historical facts to a certain extent. They were made
happy, and were in a fit state of mind to _insinse_ me into the
facts of the case about the round tower. It is of great thickness, the
area enclosed would make a good sized room. The stone work is remarkably
solid and good, and every stone smoothly fitted into the next with no
appearance of mortar. It is wonderful to see how the projection of one
stone is neatly fitted into a cavity made to correspond in its fellow.
On one stone a bird is cut in relief, another nearly the same in the
attitude of following is cut on another stone. There is also a
representation of a coffin. The beautiful stone work goes up a great
way, and suddenly stops, the remainder of the building being done in a
much rougher manner.
Seeing that I was of a reasonable turn of mind, they informed me that
the lower portion of this round tower was built by a woman, but she
being jeered at and tormented by the men masons, jealous of her work,
disappeared in the night, leaving the masons to finish it, which they
did, but not nearly so well, as we could see.
On the way from Drumlane to Ballyconnell the driver began to talk of the
bitter feeling that was kept up in the country on party subjects. He
said that religion forbid it, for if we noticed in the Lord's prayer it
was a prayer to forgive us as we forgave others. He thought Ireland
could not prosper or have God's blessing until the bitterness of party
spirit went down.
Found Ballyconnell just such another sleepy little town as Clones and
Belturbet. Here I had the comfort of meeting a friend who had puzzled a
little over the land question in a misty sort of way, and was willing to
give the benefit of his observations and conclusions.
From Clones to Belturbet and on to Ballyconnell, as I have mentioned
before, I believe, is pretty much the same sort of country, good fields,
middling and good pastures alternating with stretches of bog and many
small lakes dotted about here and there. Every appearance of thrifty,
contented poverty among the people as far as met the eye. They were
better clad, the little asses shod, and sleek and fat, so different from
other places. Still, the best of the common people all along here is not
very good to trans-Atlantic eyes, and the houses one sees as they pass
along are dreadfully bad.
I spoke of this to my friend in Ballyconnell, who informed me that the
people were harassed with ever-increasing rent, that as soon as they
could not meet it they were dealt with without mercy. A man who had
toiled to create a clearing - put a life's labor into it - was often not
able to pay the increased rent and then he was put out, while another
man paid the increased rent on his neighbor's lost labor.
This friend of mine held the opinion that landlords of the old stock
never did wrong, never were rapacious or cruel; it was the new
landlords, traders who bought out in the Encumbered Estates Court, who
had no mercy, and the agents. Here again was brought up the story denied
before that the agents had a percentage on the rents collected.
One cannot agree with the fact of all landlords of the old stock being
considerate and kind and all new landlords rapacious; for Lord Leitrim
was of the old stock, and who would wish to succeed to the inheritance
of hatred he left behind him, and Lord Ardilaun, a new landlord, is well
spoken of by all his people. Every one with whom I spoke of him,
including the parish priest, acknowledged him to be a high-toned,
grandly benevolent man, who, if he differed from his tenants, differed
as one on a height of grandeur may misjudge the ability of the poor.
XLVIII.
IN THE COUNTY CAVAN - THE ANNALS OF THE POOR - BURYING THE PAST.
As an instance of hardships of which the poor had to complain, my
informant mentioned the case of one very old man, whose children had
scattered away over the world, which meant that they had emigrated. He
held a small place on a property close beside another property managed
by my informant's brother. This old man had paid his rent for sixty-nine
years; he and his people before him had lived, toiled and paid rent on
this little place.
