The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1852-09-30
For the National Era.
lcoPYRlGHT SECURED ACCORDING TO LAW
GREENWOOD LEAVES FROM OVER THE SEA.
No. 10.

lcoPYRlGHT SECURED ACCORDING TO LAw.l
GREENWOOD LEAVES FROM OVER THE SEA
No. 10.
BELFAST. September 5. 1852.
DEAR Dr. BAILEY: On the morningo of August
10th we left Cork for Killarney. by way of
Bantry and Glengariff After short run on
the rail, we took a stage-coach, choosing out
side seats like enthusiastic tourists as We are,
though the day was dark and showery. There
was little in the scenery. and less in the condi-
ton of the country and people, to repay US for
our exposure TO wind and weather until We
reached Bantry can never forget the iorlorn,
unmitigated wretchedness of the people who
thronged round us at the little town OF Dun
manway. Among the crowd appealing to us.
N all possible variations of the whine mendi-
cious and mendsciOug. saw net one man or
woman in the national costume and cover-all-
the Handicapped great-coat and the hooded
cloak-ail was squalor and tatters, soul-sicken-
ing and disgusting Here was infancy. nude
and needy reaching out its dirty little hands
and second childhood. bent and lettering with
palsied palm extended, cycling you with all the
mute usefulness Of starved spaniel. There
was full assortment of the halt the hump
backed, and the crippled-all degrees of sight
the miserable creatures with heart heavy
with hopeless sympathy and vain pity, and
with conscience stricken for all my own sins
of unthankiuness and discomfort And here
! may as well pause to remark briefly on the
condition and appearance of the peasants in
the south of Ireland. Knowing that | could
not fairly Judge of this class by the idle and
ragged crowd who gather round the coach or
car, IN the towns and hamlets took occasion,
during my stay at Cork to visit several of the
| country cottages of the working peasants, in
company with one of the landed proprietors
| In but one out of six did find regular fire
place and chimney; in but one was there IA
window of glass and that consisted of single
| pane. The others had-with the exception of
| the door, and hole in the roof from which
the smoke, after wandering ut its own sweet
will through the cabin found its way out-no
opening Whatever, for light or ventilation. But
! forget-we did remark sort of improvised .
window in one other. In n low miserable
howell, belonging to II carman, we found IA
horse occupying full third of the scant room,
and above his Manager small opening had
been made through the mud wall, the good
man having found that the health of the animal
required what himself and his family lived
without-ar. To the mistress of this unique
habltation, whose one apartment served for
kitchen, sleepng-room stable and hall ! said.
IN Mortified amazement Glow is it possible
you cap live with that horsel Sure miss
he's no hr0uble' she replied and it's little
room he takes, after all for the chiider can
sleep on the straw under him, Just, and creep
between his legs, and he nirer harming them
ut all, the Siasibte cratur" IL in IA common
thing to zee hens drying their feathers by the
genial peatgow, and pigs enjoying the pleas
ures OF the domestic hearth. In another cabin,
we found two curious old crones, living to-
gethcr, on apparently nothing who loaded
ns with blessings in the original tongue, and
actually went ON their knees to offer up thanks
giving tor n few halfpcnce, which we gave as
consideration for intruding on their retirement
Yet, though living in low smoky, ill-ventila-
| ted cabins-olten with Wondering matches
and always with damp carth-hoors, with n
pool of stagnant water or "a dunghill before
the door-though themselves i'll fed and but
half clad, it is singular fact that the peasants
Of Southern Ireland are apparently health
ful and hardy race. You occasionally zee fine
specimens of manly and childish beauty among
| them; but pretty Irish peasant girl we found
| the rarest OF rdrddU,Ses. There are some
families of Spanish origin about Bantry, and of
| these we encountered one or two dark.eyed
| olive-cheeked beggar boys. who seemed to have
leaped out of one of Murillo's pictures The
policemen everywhere are IA particularly fine.
looking set Of fellows-indeed, none but we'll
made, tall and powerful men have any chance
of enrolment in this honorable terror-inspiring,
omnprescnt corps. The professional beggars
OF Ireland seem a peculiarly hopeless and ire
deemable cass-nOt because Of the poverty Of
the country alone but from their own inherent
and inherited idleness and vciousness. They
are persistent, pertinaci0us sometimes mp,-
dent and often quick-wittcd and amusing. A
friend of ours was waylad by certain "widdu"
woman, with unlimited amount of ragged
responsibilities at her heels On hearing her
doleful story, our friend advised the fair men
dicant to take refuge in the poor.house "The
poor-house!" she exclaimed, sure it's meself
that keeps the poorest house in all Cork, yer
honor" was amused by an appeal made by
an elderly dame to one of our tellow-passen-
gers Here's a fine fat gentleman sure he'll
give sixpence to poor bony body that hasn't
broken her fast Mt all the day.
II you wish to take meditatve walk among
the hills, the chances are that you will return
with considerable ragged retnue; but the
larger detaebnents Of this ignobe army Of
ams-seekers are stationed along the public
roads. They make their startling sorties from
the most lonely, wild, and inaccessible places
like Roderick Dhu's men, they leap up from
.'copse and heath EVERY rock hides wait
ing mendcant and every tuft of broom stirs as
we approach, with lurking tatterdemalion
They leap on your way from behind walls, and
drop down upon you from ovcrhanging trees
small foot-pads, or rather paddles, who present
palms instead Of pistols, and blarney and worry
you alike out of pence and patience.
After day Of wet and weary travel, through
a melancholy country, we enjoyed to the ut
most the beautiful approach to Bantry, under
a clear and sunny sky, and welcomed with en-
thusiasm the sight Of its lovely and famous bay.
But even this bright vision was soon eclipsed
by Glengarif, where we spent the night. In
all this land have seen nothing II compare
with the glorious beauty Of that place. In all
the solemn shadows Of its wild loneliness the
dark deeps and frowning heights Of its gran
dcur, in all the sweet lights Of ts loneliness it
lives, and must ever live, in my charmed men,
DRY; but to picture it in words dare not at
tempt.
After dinner though light rain was fall
ing. we took row around the bay, and re-
NAMED on the water until the night set in. |
think we shall none Of us soon forget that row
over the smooth and silent bay, in the rain
and deepening twilight under the shadows of
mountain and rock The scene would have
been too wild, solemn, and awfulIy lonely but
for the peculiar wit and storytelling talent Of
Jerry" our guide and helmsman. lie enter
tanned ms with some wonderful legends OF
certain Father Shannon, priest, and famous
character in this region about half century
arm Ona apocdota illustratve of the holy