The time for the meeting arrived, and with it a squad of reporters, who monopolised one table, all the chairs but one, and proceeded to make themselves at home, producing their pencils and note books in a business-like manner. The crowd clustered at the back of the platform began to fling jokes from one to the other about penny-a-liners. Two policemen, one tall, blonde, pleasant featured, one short, dark and rosy-cheeked, arrived next with their note books and pencils. There were a few more policemen at the entrance gate into the field, one soldier standing carelessly on the road, an unconcerned spectator to all appearance.
Presently the straggling crowd began to concentrate round the platform. The women who were peeping into the tent and the men who were helping them forsook that pleasing occupation and made for the platform at a double quick trot. Many voices said, "yon's them." Looking along the road toward the town black with the coming crowd, I saw a waggonette drawn by four horses, gallant greys, coming along at a spanking pace.
The crowd around me disputed whether the driver was able to bring his four in hand safely through the rather narrow gate, which involved a sharp turn, but he did, and drew up inside with a flourish, to the great admiration of all. The gentlemen came on the platform, Mr. Dillon, a half dozen or so of priests and some other gentlemen. There was a goodly number of people assembled; still not as many as I expected to see. There were not many thousands at all. The faces of the crowd were not by any means so fine as the faces of the Donegal peasantry. They were mixed faces, all but a few seemed simple country people, some of the heavy, low English type, some keen and Scotch, some low Irish. The women were not so fair skinned and rosy as the mountain lasses. There were a good many ladies and gentlemen present. I do not think all who were present were in favor of the Land League, by the remarks which reached me, but the large majority were. As none of the gentlemen speakers spoke to me when they came on the platform, I lost my prestige at once.
The first speakers, not accustomed to pitch their voices so as to be heard by a crowd, were quite inaudible where I sat. On the contrary, every word Mr. Dillon said was distinct and clearly audible. He has a clear voice, pleasant to listen to after those who preceded him. He is tall, slim, rather good-looking, very black hair, which he wears long, and which was so smooth and shining that it made him look like an Indian, and truly he is as well made, lithe and nervous-looking as one. His manner is cold and clear and self-repressed; not a word but tells. His speech was exactly the same as he gave in Derry. He did not approve of the Land Bill—and I had thought it so good—but he pointed out a great many defects in it. Faults I never should have suspected to be there, were picked out and brought to view.
A very telling speech was made by a dark, thin, wiry man named O'Neil. His speech dealt with the hardships which they had passed through owing to excessive rents and hard years of poor crops. He spoke what the people felt, for many a voice chorused, "True for you; we know that well." In the middle of the speeches the platform prepared to break down, but only collapsed in the middle and fell half way and stopped. Two of the priests spoke also, and spoke well to judge by the people's applause. No one spoke in favor of the Bill.
I thought as I sat there of the remark made to me by a Catholic gentleman of Innishowen, who said: "The Irish people have hoped in vain so long, have been deceived so often, that it is hard now to win their confidence." The more I move through the country the more I believe this. Mr. Dillon was the idol of the assembly, that was easy to be seen. A few words with him, a touch of his hand, was an honor. He apologized for Mr. Parnell's absence, who being elsewhere could not possibly be at Omagh that day. I left before the meeting was over.
As far as I hear from the Common people themselves, they think the law and the administrators of it sympathize with the landlords only, and let that sympathy influence their decisions. They are, therefore, very averse to go to law to obtain what they consider justice from a landlord.
Another great complaint that I hear again and again is the expense attendant on a transfer of property. As an instance, a little property of the value of a hundred pounds changed hands when I was in Ramelton. The deed of transfer was a parchment as big as a table-cloth, and cost L10.