After returning to the hotel I was waited on by an elderly lady of the peasant class, a woman over eighty years of age. She had for sale some pillow lace edging of her own manufacture, which she offered at threepence per yard. This was the way she made her living, paid her rent and kept herself out of the workhouse. The lace was pretty and very strong. She generally succeeds in disposing of it to lady tourists.
There were some lady tourists as well as gentlemen staying at Cong. They were on pleasure bent, and had been dreadfully annoyed and disgusted in Galway at the heartbreaking scene attending the departure of some poor Irish emigrants. They are unreasonable in their grief, and take parting as if it were death; but it is as death to many of the aged relatives who will see these faces whom they love no more. I could not help thinking how differently people are constituted. When I saw the streaming eyes, the faces swollen with weeping, and heard the agonized exclamations, the calls upon God for help to bear the parting, for a blessing on the departing, I had to weep with them. These people were all indignation where they were not amused. The old women's cries were ill-bred howlings to their ears, their grief a thing to laugh at. They made fun of their dress—how they were got up—as if their dress was a matter of choice; grew indignant in describing their disgust at the scene. Ah, well, these poor mountain peasants were not their neighbors, they were people to be looked at, laughed at, sneered at, and passed by on the other side; but I—these people are my people and their sorrow moveth me.
XLIV.
THE ASHFORD DEMESNE—LORD ARDILAUN—LOUGH CORRIB.
The Ashford demesne affords walks or drives for miles. Everything that woods and waters, nature and art can do to make Ashford delightful has been done. I got a companion, a pretty girl, a permit from some official who lived in a cottage at Cong, and set out by way of the Pigeon Hole to see at least part of the place.
I may as well mention here how surprised we were to hear the Antrim tongue from the recesses of the cave, and to find a group of strangers exploring on their own account. They were working men who had come from Belfast to work for Lord Ardilaun, and were making the most of a holiday before they began. I was very much surprised to see men from Antrim, where the wages are much higher than here, come down to work in the west where labor is so cheap, and want of work the complaint.
To show how cheaply men work here, I may mention that being at a village which lies outside of Lord Ardilaun's demesne, but on his estate, I was standing on the road and a clergyman was talking in Irish to a man who was employed at mason work in repairing the wall, a small quiet looking man who did not stop work as he talked. Of course I could not understand more than the scope of their discourse, but I understood distinctly one question asked; "How much do you get for a day's work?" "One shilling and two pence a day." "Without food of course?" "Of course." I had heard in the North that casual laborers get two shillings a day there, but they do not get two shillings when employed constantly. The laborers on one well-managed estate which I have been over in Antrim are paid ten shillings a week, and pay one shilling a week out of that for their cottages, which are kept in good repair at the expense of their employer. Of course these men must have been workmen skilled in some particular work, or they would not have come from the wages of the North to the West to work at the common rate of wage going here, which I am told is at the highest seven shillings a week and rent to pay out of that. Of course, when masons are paid one and twopence, laborers will be paid much less.
The avenue along which we travelled was a causeway made at great expense along the brow of a steep hill or rather ridge, one side being supported by a stone wall. This work, undertaken for the benefit of travellers to Ashford, must have afforded constant employment for a good many men for a long time. Arriving at a modern archway in the ancient style protected by an iron gate, we sought admittance, showing our permit from the office. The keeper's wife examined it and passed it over to the keeper, who examined it also, asked some prudent, cautious questions, and we were admitted to a part of the grounds.
This gate keeper, a remarkably gentlemanly old man, in his respectable blue broadcloth, his comely sagacious, weather-beaten face, his guarded manner of speaking, and his name, Grant, made me quite sure that he was a Highlandman, which he was not, but a Western Irishman. He informed us as we went along that only part of the grounds could be seen on account of the troubled state of the country. Whether there was any part of the demesne that an elderly woman and a pretty girl were likely to run away with became a subject of thought to me. Conscientiously this delightful old man kept us off tabooed walks and shunted us into permissible places. Where all was beautiful and new, and time having a limit, we were quite willing when brought to order, to follow on the allowed path.
I was admiring a tree of the regally magnificent kind, leaf-draped branches like green robes sweeping down to the emerald sward, that always remind me of the glorious trees which sunlight loves to gild in the grounds at Castle Coole; I remarked on its exceeding beauty to our guide, who said it would bear a nearer view, and we followed him on a path through the grass till we stood beside it. Parting the foliage we found ourselves at a natural grotto of light-colored stone, where a stream of "the purest of crystal" came from under the rock at one end, and glancing in the stray beams of sunlight that found their way in through the arch of leaves, flashed down a tiny cascade in a shower of diamonds, and with a little gurgling laugh hid under the rock again, racing on to join the subterranean waters that laugh together over the failure of the great canal.