Paddy at Home ("Chez Paddy")

by baron de E. Mandat-Grancey

I have already said that all the women, almost without an exception, are barefooted. But, alas! they are not like the pretty mulattoes in Bourbon who are never shod through coquetry, because they wish to preserve the pretty shape of their feet and the gracefulness of their walk, which they consider incompatible with boots. Coquetry does not seem to exist amongst the women of this country. The little they show is scarcely satisfactory. Their feet are large and ill-shaped; the leg, uncovered to the knee, has scarcely any calf; and they are horribly dirty. A characteristic note is given to their costume by their always wearing a shawl on the head. Many hold it drawn together before the face with one hand, only showing, like the Lima women, one eye. This, by the way, is the best thing they can do, for they have often fine eyes, which relieve the ordinary type of the rest of the face.

It would be wrong to call them ugly, for they have a charming expression. One never sees those little, rather pert, faces, which are so pretty and so common amongst us. Here the dominant note is a very sad, gentle, timid expression, which has a certain grace. But really these poor girls ought to do like the Corsican women, who, when they go to market, are careful before entering the town always to ford the last stream, so that their feet are washed. I also fancy that those women ought to comb their hair sometimes, instead of leaving it in a state of disorder which has nothing in common with art. Many do not even fasten it up, simply leaving it to fall about.

England is the promised land of charitable associations. Some one really ought to interest himself or herself in this matter; and my sympathy with green Erin is so great that if some energetic English spinster, of whom there are so many, will found a society with the object of distributing combs amongst the young Irish women, accompanied by tracts containing instructions how to use them, I now beg her to put my name down on the first page of the subscription list.

If this subscription succeeded well enough to enable the society also to distribute some soap, it would be very fortunate; but it would, I think, first be necessary to make a complete change in the nature of the people. The English are particularly well dressed and neat. The Irish are just the reverse. The railway servants are paid almost as much here as in England. The difference in wages is probably more than balanced by the greater cheapness of living. In England even the porters are always clean; here, the station-masters are shabby.

The train that was to take me to Mallow also conveyed a whole family of Irish emigrants, composed of the parents and two or three children. These people appeared to be in comparatively easy circumstances. The woman wore a kind of cloak trimmed with fur. Very much preoccupied about her luggage, she approached the porter’s pot of paste, and, in default of a brush, she put her hand in to re-stick a label which was coming off, and this done she wiped the hand on her cloak in the most natural way. During this time the young brother and the mother, probably, who were remaining behind, uttered absolute howls. I am told that it is the usual way of crying in this country. It is called a wail. It is often alluded to in the native poetry. But no one seems to pay any attention to it.

The country through which we pass is not very remarkable. It has the same characteristics as the district I saw the day before yesterday in going from Dublin to Limerick. We travelled towards the south. To the east the horizon is bounded by a few hills. But the line is laid in the middle of a large plain, which recalls a little the American prairie. But this is distinguished by being furrowed by a number of fences, formed by a mound of earth between two ditches—the classic Irish jump of our steeplechases—scarcely any trees; miserable little isolated houses show thatched roofs and whitewashed walls at long intervals; very little agriculture—a few fields of potatoes and oats. Here, again, the meadows have a miserable appearance; everything requires drainage; still the grass must have some good qualities, for we continually see very fine horses, which start off at a gallop, frightened by the locomotive. On the other hand the cattle are indifferent and not very abundant; the pasture could easily carry a greater number of animals here, as well as in Queen’s County.

My fellow traveller was Mr. Sanders, a charming young man, who is agent for several important estates in the neighbourhood, and who only leaves me at Mallow. I had taken care to provide myself with letters of introduction to several of these agents before leaving Paris, thinking that it would be through them that I should obtain correct information respecting the state of the country. To understand the importance of their position, we must remember the manner in which land tenure is regulated in Ireland.

We may say that small holdings do not exist. But then we can hardly see how they could ever have been formed. All the estates are of considerable relative importance; at least taken with regard to their superficial area. In other countries this constitution of the domains would have been favourable to agriculture on a large scale. It is not so here, because of the excessive population. The landowners always endeavour to increase the size of the farms by diminishing the number of them, but they never succeed, because they have to contend with local customs. A farmer will take a farm of 60 acres, then without any authority he divides it between his six children as they marry, and each young couple, still without the landlord’s permission, hasten to build a small cottage on the piece of ground allotted to them. With each generation the land becomes further parcelled out; and thus holdings of two acres and a half, or even less, are formed, and these are evidently too small to feed a family.