We Visited The Ruins Of Moyne Abbey, Which Are In Good Preservation Yet.
One Of The Present Lords Of The
Soil had a part of it made habitable and
lived there some time, but it is again unroofed and left
To desolation.
It has been a very extensive building, stretching over a great extent of
land now cleared of ruins. What remains is still imposing.
We had a pleasant interview with the Rev. Mr. Nolan, the kind and
patriotic priest of this neighborhood, and we returned to Ballina as
gratified and as tired as children after a holiday excursion.
I was introduced at Ballina to a landlord, a fine, clever-looking man,
with that particularly well-kept and well-fed appearance which is as
characteristic of the upper classes in Ireland as a hunger-bitten,
hunted look is characteristic of the poor. I would not like to employ as
strong language in speaking of the wrongs of the tenantry as this
gentleman used to me. He is both landlord and agent. He condemned all
the policy of the Government toward Ireland in no measured terms. Spoke
of the emigration that is going on now, as well as the emigration that
had taken place after the last famine, as men going out to be educated
for and to watch for the time of retribution. Retribution for the
accumulated wrongs which mis-government had heaped upon Ireland he
looked upon as inevitable, as coming down the years slowly but surely to
the place of meeting and of paying to the uttermost farthing. Well, now,
these are queer sentiments for a landlord to hold and to utter publicly.
He acknowledged freely that a great part - a very great part - of the
excessive rents extorted on pain of eviction, the eviction taking place
when the unfortunate fell behind, were really premiums paid on their own
labor. Furthermore, he acknowledged that he himself had raised the
tenants' rents on the estates for which he was agent, compelling them to
pay smartly for the work of their own hands. He spoke highly of the
people as a whole, of their patience, their kindliness to one another,
and their piety. He spoke of the case of one man, a peasant, who could
only speak broken English, who came under his notice by coming to him to
sell rye-grass to make up his rent. This man with the imperfect English
was a tenant of the gentleman's brother. He held three acres, two roods
of land in one place at a rent of L7 5s, where his house stood; one
acre, at L1 4s. Of course he or his ancestors built the house. His poor
rate and county cess is 16s, or $46.25 yearly for four acres, two roods
of land. If they got it for nothing they could not live on it, say some.
The best manure that can be put upon land is to salt it well with rent,
say Mr. Tottenham and Mr. Corscadden.
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