THE EASTERN COAST—THE LAND QUESTION FROM A LANDLORD'S STANDPOINT.
Went through Galway to the station as fast as a jaunting car could take me, and took the train for Dublin.
Crossing Ireland thus from Galway to Dublin, I noticed that the land got to be more uniformly fertile as we neared the eastern coast. From Dublin the road ran down the coast, in sight of the sea for most part. Through counties Dublin, Meath and Louth, the land looked like the garden of Eden. It was all like one demesne heavy with trees, interspersed with large fields having rich crops and great meadows waving with grass; the cultivation, so weedless, so regular, every ridge and furrow as straight as a rule could make it, every corner cultivated most scrupulously. It was a great pleasure to look at the farms. Truly this is a rich and fertile land. And yet in no place which I have seen so far have I noticed any laborers' cottages, fit to live in, except on a few places in Antrim.
This east coast was beautiful exceedingly, and yet I saw on this good land mud huts which were not fit to be kennels for dogs inhabited by human beings. I heard a shilling a week spoken of as rent for these abominable pigsties, collected every Saturday night. Twenty-five cents looks small, but it is taken out of a small wage. The country railway stations are very nice to look at.
Arrived at Castle Bellingham, received a very kindly welcome indeed. Felt inclined to snuggle down into enjoyment here, to the neglect of my work. The country is so fertile, so beautiful, the large fields waving with luxuriant crops. The roses are in bloom climbing over the fronts of the houses, clinging round the second-story windows and on to the roof. It is a feast to look at them, hanging their heads heavy with beauty in clusters of three, creamy-white or red of every shade, from the faintest pink to the velvet leaf of deepest crimson. I suppose that they flourish best amid frequent rains, for this has been a remarkably rainy season, and the wealth of roses is wonderful to see, the air is sweet with their breath.
South Gate House, Castle Bellingham, is one of the houses that tempts one to the breach of the tenth commandment. I have stood in the front garden and looked at it trying to learn it off by heart. It is draped with a wonderful variety of roses climbing over it, wreathing round it, heavy with bloom. Every inch of land in the front garden is utilized with the taste that creates beauty. Inside the house is a constant surprise; the comfort and cosiness, the space to be comfortable in, room after room appearing as a new revelation, made it appear a very desirable residence to me.
At the end of the house, from the conservatory, can be seen the tree under which His Majesty, of glorious, pious and immortal memory, eat his luncheon on his way to fight for a kingdom at the Boyne. The Bellinghams were an old family then. Some say proudly, "We came over with good King William." Others can say, "He found us here when he came."
The evening after my arrival was taken up looking at the house, looking at the grounds, wondering over the ferns and flowers, and deciding that it was rather nice to be an Irish country gentleman. The next morning found me through the gardens wondering over the abundance of fruit and the perfect management that made the most of every corner.
Mr. Bellingham drove me over to Dunany Castle, where Sir Allan Bellingham resides at present. The road lay through the usual beautiful country that spreads along this east coast, plantations of fine trees, large fields of grain, great meadows and bean fields that perfumed the air. We passed a large mill; I took particular notice of it, because mills do not often occur as a feature in the landscape on the western coast. There were mills at Westport belonging to the Messrs. Livingstone, but they were not as obtrusive as American mills are. One became aware of them by the prosperity they created. In Cong, the corn mill standing idle and falling to ruin, was the last mill which I had observed. This was one reason of my noticing this mill, which was busily working.
When we came where the road lay along the shore, Mr. Bellingham stopped the carriage that I might see the salmon fishers hauling in their nets. This salmon fishery is very valuable. In 1845 the right to fish here was paid for at the rate of L10 per annum; in 1881 the right to fish brings L130. Still, I am told, the man who has the fishing makes a great deal. The fish are exported. This salmon fishery belongs to Sir Allan Bellingham. It was a strange sight to me to see so many men and boys walking unconcernedly waist deep in the sea. I wondered over the number of men and boys which were required to haul in one net. Truly, fishing is a laborious business, but still, how pleasant to see the busy fisher folk, and to know that work brings meat. I remembered the silent waters on long stretches of the western shores. I remembered the rejoicing at Dromore west, over the Canadian given boats. God bless, and prosper, and multiply the fisher folk. In from the sea, through the pleasant land, we drove a little farther into the solemn woods that surround Dunany Castle. As we neared the castle the woods became broken into a lawn and pleasure ground, and at a sudden turn we found ourselves before the castle. I am not yet tired of looking at castles, whether in ruins, as relics of the past, or inhabited as the "stately houses where the wealthy people dwell."