I declare I thought often of the Israelites
scattered through the fields of Egypt gathering stubble instead of
straw. A tenant who objects to anything, who is not properly obedient
and respectful, can have the screw turned upon him about the turf as
well as about the rent.
XXVIII.
THE MANOR HAMILTON WORKHOUSE - TO THE SOUTH AND WESTWARD - A CHANGE OF
SCENERY - LORD PALMERSTON.
Before leaving Manor Hamilton, I determined to see the poor-house, the
last shelter for the evicted people. I was informed that it was
conducted in a very economical manner. It is on the outskirts of the
town. On my way there I went up a little hill to look at a picturesque
Episcopalian church perched up there amid the trees, surrounded by a
pretty, well-kept burying-ground. The church walls were ornamented with
memorial slabs set in the wall commemorating people whose remains were
not buried there. A pretty cottage stood by the gate, at the door of
which a decent-looking woman sat sewing. I addressed a few questions to
her as to the name of the pastor, the size of his flock, &c. Her answers
were guarded - very.
I made my way down the hill, and over to the workhouse. The grounds
before the entrance were not laid out with the taste observable at
Enniskillen. Perhaps they had not a professional gardener among their
inmates. At the entrance a person was leaning against the door in an
easy attitude. I enquired if I might be allowed to see through the
workhouse. He answered by asking what my business was. I informed him
that I was correspondent for a Canadian newspaper. He then enquired if
the paper I wrote for was a Conservative paper. I replied that I would
not describe it as a Conservative paper, but as a religious paper. He
then said the matron was not at home, and I prepared to leave. I
enquired first if he was the master. He replied in the affirmative, and
then said he would get the porter to show me round. "You will show her
through," he said, to a stout, heavy person sitting in the entry.
This gentleman, who brought to my mind the estimable Jeremiah
Flintwinch, accordingly showed me through the building. We passed the
closed doors of the casual ward, where intending inmates were examined
for admittance, and casuals were lodged for the night. Every door was
unlocked to admit us and carefully locked behind us, conveying an idea
of very prison-like administration. The able-bodied were at work, I
suppose, for few were visible except women who were nursing children.
There was a large number of patients in the infirmary wards.
