Morning journal and courier., 1889-06-01
AFOOT IN IRELAND.

ABOUT ERELANDs
 Irish Emtgration-The Rustic Cere-
 monY of ConvoyIng-A Strange stCon-
 voYIRg,s Ineident-Blafney Castle and
 Stone.
 CORK, Ireland, May 20.
 Tothe Editor ofthe JOURNAL AND COURIER:
 It may we'll be imagined that when from two to three hundred souls leave Ireland for foreign shores every working-day in the year, there are heart and hand wringings in- numerable, and dolorous mists from the re- zion of tears. Few families are fortunate enough to get away all together. If help has come from America; if the passage moa- ey has been saved in secret through years of deprivation by a single person; If an Irish family has after every manner of sacrifice provided for the freedom of one who is to go to blessed America that the remainder may, one by one, eventually be released from slavery; however the going of all these wretched people may have come about; in every instance there is struggle in tearing away from the things to which the heart is rooted which we of better fortune and con- dition know nothing about. So many of these scenes have I now witnessed that am beginning to have some little conception of the real bravery of this act of illiterate, un- trained men and women pushing boldly across the sea into untried, unknown walks AuQ ways, Wltu a I0F6s nope anu QSt6EnlQa- tion for one's own at the bottom of it all that have more real heroism in them than the average American is ever able to compre- bend In his whole life.
 However loRly, poor and desperately good for-naught the prospective emigrant may have all his life been regarded among his fel- lows, the great and generous Irish heart in those around him melts into surpassing in- terest and tenderness when he comes to leave his neighborhood, and those whom he has been never so little part of through the bitter days that have encompassed all. For every departure reawakens the heart-aching memories of other departures; and in every Irish home l ever shared there is an empty chair whose former occupant is somewhere beyond the sea. If it be family who are to go, or some elderly man or woman, for days previous to the departure the whole countryside swarms to the cabin; and every man, woman or child of the townland at some time or another has come to mourn at the leaving and bid God-speed at the going. If it be youth or lass, or young man or woman, as it oftener is, for few but the very old and very young ara left, then, on the evening previous to the departure every companion, friend or acquaintance is certain to appear; and the whole night is passed in what is called "rising the heart' of the de- parting one. The custom springs from the same kindly quality of extending cheer to those who mourn that originally established the custom of the Irish "wake," which our good American people choose to consistently misunderstood and condemn. At this gath- eripg for srising the heart" of the emigrant the Irish peasants character Is in 8 most tenderly interesting state for study. Every one arrives in hushed, embarrassed mood and every one brings some little token of af- lection and regard. The poverty of these folk alone prevents outlandish generosity. One stealthily appears with yards of seed fuI <,f with gew-gaws and triaes of jewslry; the coat-tail pockets of another will bulge with heartsome potatoes; housewives arrive with great methers of milk, others with schow- ders, oaten-cakes, crisp and toothsome, still others with schrahags of shilk, hearty mixture of potatoes, beans and butter, and some with apronsful of peat; for the slender resources of the family must never under these trying circumstances be drained. And the lads and lasses who come with pressed Irish flowers and ferns, and sprigs of haw- thorne and punches of the dear shamrock; with gifts of ribbons and bits of this or that prized possession; are not to be counted at all. So, too, come those with looks of tri- umph and secreted bottles of poteen, that ''nsver got a touch, :" that is, are guiltless of the exciseman's desecrating seal; for "grief is ever drooshy" surely. Then the night is passed eating, feasting and drinking. Loads of humble fare are there; oceans of tea; and tlmolJ uEOp5 O1 tuo XhLc A4OuAka1u oCWs Tales are told; songs are sung; sometimes they dance to the music of an old tramp hd- dler who has been impressed into service. But the chords of mirth are minor enough the night long; and smiles, laughter and brave prophecies are all touched and chas- tened by honest Iriah tears.
 When morning comes, and those whose imperative duties call them to their homes, have said goodbye with almos. the same dread, reverence and pathetic forlornness when lowering the dead into the grave, the rustic ceremony of Conveying" is begun. The subject of all this attention becomes for the once, if for only this once In lifetime, the hero or heroine of the hour. The chests, or plethorio bags, or whatever constitutes the luggage of the emigrant. is sent on ahead in some neighbours proffered cart, friendly riots for the honor of the mournful privi- lege often occurring, or are slung over the backs of shaggy donkeys, Q score more than necessary always being in readiness for, this friendly mission. If whole family are to go the farewells to the wretched old hut which has housed them is something pitiable beyond description. If it be but a single member of the household the good-byes to the old, old folk too feeble for the journey of ''convoy" are more pitiable still. These separations are often too great load for such, and many withered branch of the impoverished family tree breaks and falls
 
 But if girsha or bouchai, the pride of the loved home, are departing, the maelstrom of emotion as the "convoy," or accompanying procession, sets forth, is beyond the power of man to reveal. On many occasions dur- ing my Wanderings afoot in Ireland I have come upon these excited crowds as they were starting from the home; as they struggled down mountain boreen; as they Jagged and walled along the great stone highways; or as they neared some railway station from whence the emigrant must depart to the sea- port city; and making myself one of the mostly tconvoyers," have thus tramped with them miles upon their scrrowful way. Sometimes these grewsome processions will come from point a score of miles away in the mountains or remote valley districts; and though no one has ever seemed to think these touching and characteristic scenes worth place in Irish literature, they are common enough from all points and on all ways from which Cork and Queenstown may be reached, and, heaven knows, pathetic enough to appeal to the whole world through artists pencil or the most talented word- painters pen.
 I can never forget "convoyin" incident and it's strange outcome which I witnessed, and indeed in which I participated, only a few days since. had been visiting the bat tle-6eld of Aughrim, where, on that awful Sunday of 1891 was battle such as we who have been in battles know; where Ginkels hosts, in that mad charge upon leaderless heroes, ruined the fortunes Of the Stuart dy- nasty; and where the whirlwind of death which swept over Aughrim's morass and bog set the final seal of servitude, but never of servility, upon the people of Ireland; and, turning into the old Galway and Dublin road, towards Ballinasloe, was at once one of singular conveying" party from the rural districts behind Kilreekill. The strangest feature of this, 80 invariably friendly pro- cession, was it's double character and re- mendous excitement seemed to wildly infiu- ence both lines of march. On one side of the way were bright Irish maiden surround