Mary Ann Grant

Mary Ann Grant's letters from Ireland

46.

TO MISS T— Tuam,

December 1804.

[...] A fair breeze, at the end of two days, sprung up, and we again set sail, it proved propititious, and wafted us safe to the irish shore. The Bay of Dublin presented a grand and noble object; evening was fast approaching as we entered it; the sun's last beauteous beams played on the distant hills, and seemed dispersing the thick mist in which their grey heads were enveloped: ocean's proud waves chasing each other, raised their white surge against the craggy rocks; amid them rose conspicuous the Hill of Hoath, and the romantic rock of Ireland's eye; offering altogether a beauteous scene; while a distant view of the Wicklow Mountains, shrouded in the dusky shades of twilight, added majesty to the whole; in the foreground, the light-house presented its alabaster front, and, like the guardian of the mariner, was then offering  p.234 its brilliant light for his protection, in a situation well known for its danger. We passed the bar about seven o'clock, and were soon after safely landed on the quay, and conducted to an hotel in Kildare Street; here we remained about a week, and were annoyed with almost incessant rain; as I, however, am of the class of curious travellers, I embraced every moment that the sun brightened, to obtain a view of the fine buildings in this great city; if you wish to form an idea of it, you may fix your thoughts on London; for the same crowded streets, bustling shops, and large and small houses are promiscuously blended together; though I think the public edifices are, in general, far more elegant, and placed to more advantage; among them the Parliament House is one of the most cospicuous for magnificence; it is now converted into a national bank, the colonnade that forms the front is surpassingly beautiful. The University is erected in  p.235 the finest taste. The Royal Exchange is of Portland stone, and decorated with a bronze statue of his present Majesty. The Custom-House is superb; and I was quite charmed with the grandeur of Stephen's Green; this noble square forms the fashionable promenade of Dublin. The want of regularity in its buildings cannot, however, fail to offend the eye, and the deep ditch by which the Green is surrounded, forms a very unwholesome puddle, and is perfectly disgusting; it is a pity a square so elegant should be thus disfigured. The magnificence of the Duke of Leinster's Palace, in Merrion Square, is particularly striking, and the beautiful disposition of the grounds around it claims admiration.

The environs of Dublin are exceedingly picturesque, I am informed; and I lamented that continual wet weather, during my short stay, prevented me from making any excursions. The regiment  p.236 received a route for Tuam; a distance of rather more than a hundred English miles. With the first part of our journey, I was really enchanted; we pursued the windings of the river Liffy, the banks of which are highly adorned with rich groups of trees; and a fertile soil, well cultivated, varied by the rising hill or sinking vale, and rendered altogether delightfully romantic by the small verdured islands and gentle falls, by which the river is ornamented. At Lexlip we parted from the Liffy, and, in losing it, seemed to bid adieu to fine scenery; the remainder of our journey was little more than a dreary waste; and here we have only been two days, so that I can hardly say how I shall like it; the country seems bleak and cheerless, but the inhabitants are, I am told, remarkable for their hospitality to strangers. I am far from well, my health has never recovered the shock it received at Weeley, and I am often  p.237 inclined to indulge gloomy ideas; however, as I feel it right to struggle against them, I endeavor to do so.

Farewell.

47.

TO MISS B— Tuam,

December 1804.

At length, dear Hannah, we have arrived at head quarters, after a very fatiguing and troublesome journey. The little I have yet seen of Ireland, has not given me a very favourable idea of it; I thought Dublin a fine city; and was delighted with a ride of eight or nine miles on the banks of the Liffy in our way here; but after that, misery was the predominant feature of the bleak country we passed. The towns through which our route lay, were all insignificant places, and unworthy of note, except Athlone, where the noble Shannon is seen to flow  p.238 in placid and unruffled majesty; there is also a garrison, and several out towers near Athlone: Kilcock became an object of attention from the singular circumstance that occurred when the rank of duke was empowered with the privilege of conferring the honor of knighthood. “The Duke of R. happening to be at a small inn, at the village of Kilcock, in a moment of intoxication, knighted the landlord, a man of the name of Cuff; the next morning, being made sensible of his folly, he offered him a sum of money to take no notice of what had been done; the man said, that he must consult his wife, and in a few moments returned for answer, that he had no objection to drop all pretensions to the honor himself, but that he could not persuade her ladyship to be of the same opinion.” Sir — Cuff is dead, but his widow still keeps the inn, and retains the title of my lady. We had the honor of seeing her ladyship,  p.239 and of being accommodated in her house. In the course of our journey, we passed one of those pyramids of stones, which superstition places to commemorate a murder committed on that particular spot; they do not form a regular building, but are merely thrown together in a heap, by travellers; it is considered the indispensable duty of every Roman Catholic to contribute one to the number.

The poverty and wretchedness that continually presented themselves to our view, was really melancholy: a soil naturally fruitful, remained almost in a state of uncultivation, potatoes (which here is as much the staff of life as bread is to the English) offered nearly the only trait of industry, and large fields that might be made to teem with luxuriant crops were totally neglected, and covered with loose stones: many vestiges of the rebellion were to be seen, which awakened unpleasant ideas, but when I witnessed  p.240 the squalid and miserable appearance of the peasantry, I almost ceased to wonder that their nature should become perverted.

Remarkable for ingenuity, they frequently possess much intellect, and exercise it in native wit, but it is of wild growth; and their minds, unbenefited by education, are usually left in the lowest state of degradation; severe oppression, added to their ignorance, often leads them into scenes of riot, that inflame their ideas, and occasion deeds, which probably their nature, in other situations, would have recoiled from with horror.

Their huts (or cabins, as they are called) present the most striking pictures of penury; the horse, cow, and pig, if there are any, enjoy the same privileges with their master and his family, for they generally all live, or rather exist, under the same roof; which is, literally, a receptacle for every kind of filth, smoke, and vermin.

Dry lodgings, written up at some of these cabins, attracted my attention; I enquired for an explanation, and found that the literal sense of the expression, such as an apartment or a bed free from damp, was not implied, but that no kind of meat or drink was to be expected; a curious idea, is it not? We met several carriages, peculiar to this country, called jaunting cars, they are drawn by one horse, and contain four or six people, who sit on each side, back to back, their feet supported by a step; it is an awkward and unsociable conveyance in appearance, but a very convenient one, and kept by most families. À propos, speaking of carriages, I never saw any thing to equal the badness of the Irish postchaises, and their horses are a match for them; my heart bleeds for these noble animals, so dreadfully poor and jaded do they usually appear; for our own precious persons, we really had reason to tremble,  p.242 during our journey here; three times did we contrive to make lucky escapes, when the chaise broke down; and, as a proof of no very pleasant prospect before a traveller, one day that we had seated ourselves in one of these agreeable carriages, the man who was to drive us, begged, that his honor would be plaised to change sides with the lady; he was asked his reason for making such a request, oh, it was only becase he was afraid that some of the fastenings or the ropes might give way on that side, and as the lady was the lightest she had better sit there. A comfortable idea, with twenty miles before us, ere the chaise could possibly be exchanged.

We have now been here about a month, and have led, what appears to me, a life of dissipation; between balls and private parties I am almost worn out; late hours do not agree with my present precarious state of health. How I wish I could  p.243 transport you and half a dozen of my young friends among us; you would be quite delighted.

The inhabitants of this place are pleased in having a Scotch regiment with them, and pay the most marked attention to the greatest number of the officers; the ladies are very gay, and possess a great degree of that frankness and vivacity of conversation which characterize the French. I am not quite certain, but the rigid moralist would wish to check a part of the freedom of manners that prevails among them, and which, though innocent in itself, a delicate mind shrinks from abashed; such have been my ideas, when watching the coquetry practised in the mazy dance, or the flirtations carried on in the promenade. In their attentions to strangers, great deference is paid to rank, and still more to fortune; “What may be his expectations?” is no uncommon question among matrons, before a young  p.244 man is admitted as a visitor in a family where there are daughters; subalterns usually stand but an indifferent chance of being much noticed, for, poor fellows, they are not thought of sufficient consequence, in this land of hospitality; in fact, hospitality here is by no means indiscriminate, it knows very well how to make distinctions. Dancing is a favorite amusement in this country; but, in my opinion, a perfect toil; the time is a constant jig, and played so fast that it is impossible, for any person, with a tolerable ear, to dance with pleasure or grace. Of cards the inhabitants are passionately fond, and devote a great deal of time to them; the abominable mean custom of paying for them prevails: each person puts down a shilling, and, when the tables break up, a servant comes 'round, with a pair of scales, to weigh the money, (shillings go by weight in this country) and if any of them are, in the smallest  p.245 degree, short of the proper balance, an enquiry takes place to find out who they belong to, that they may be exchanged. This is a universal practise, nay, I have seen the lady of the house (and she a person of considerable rank) take this degrading office upon herself; I know but one exception to this common rule, and that is a Mr. A.'s a protestant clergyman's family, whose amiable and pleasing manners endear them to all who enjoy the pleasure of their acquaintance; they justly consider this custom as paltry and mean, and a great breach of true politeness, but, as inhabitants of the town, they feel themselves obliged, in some degree to conform to a custom that existed long before they became residenters; therefore, when they have large or public parties, the shillings are put down, but upon no occasion does a servant interfere, or scales make their appearance.

What a pity, now that England and  p.246 Ireland are become a united kingdom, that the coins are not taken into consideration, and made of equal value in both countries; they occasion a great deal of confusion and difficulty; every shilling is valued at thirteen pence in Ireland, so that if a person has a considerable number of English notes, the discount is so great, that it is worth exchanging them; on the other hand, you must pay an equal discount if you wish to exchange Irish notes. The country bankers issue out a vast quantity of paper, money, 3s., yd., and even as low as 6d. notes; by this measure, the poor are much oppressed, the paper soon wears, when the bankers too frequently refuse to exchange them, thus they make fortunes and the poor become still more miserable.

The Archbishop of Tuam's palace is close to this town; the shrubberies and parks are very beautiful, and are, at all times,  p.247 most liberally open to the public, forming the promenade of Tuam. The family are not here, which we have to regret, they being celebrated for their hospitality, condescending affability, and elegance of manners.

M. A.'s letter informed me of the death of our sweet Lucy; the account affected me much, and I can easily judge what you must feel; indeed, my dear Hannah, the recollection of the many happy hours we have passed together, often occur to me in a lone hour, and melancholy feeds upon memory. Dear Lucy! your happiness is now of a superior kind, and it is selfish to mourn your exit from a world so full of sorrow; but thus it is with human nature, it regrets objects lost till the remembrance becomes more dear. Offer my best wishes to your respected parents, and believe me, &c.

48.

TO MISS T— Loughrea,

June 1805.

My last letter ¹ would inform my ever dear Mary Ann, that we were on the eve of quitting Tuam, which we regretted very much; I felt a great deal in parting with the amiable family of A.; indeed, it is but justice to say, that the polite attentions of every person in the town were uniform to us; and we received such an interesting account of the archbishop and his family, that we lamented that they did not arrive at the palace, before we bid adieu to Tuam. We have been here some weeks, but do not find it near so pleasant, in point of society, as our last quarters. The country is not quite so dreary; there is a beautiful lake,  p.249 near the town, which is a fine object, and the scenery round it is pleasing. I shall not see you so soon as I hoped; G has been refused leave of absence, in consequence of the state of this country, it seems to cause general alarm, and a second rebellion, it is feared, will be the result of the Catholic Petition being refused, nothing but the military keep the people in any kind of awe; several unpleasant circumstances have taken place in different parts of the country, and a universal tendency to riot seems to evince itself. The most rigid discipline is kept up among the army, and more troops are ordered over. God grant that their power may be able to quell these threatened disturbances; it is fearful to look forward to what may be the consequence, should a rebellion actually take place, and the French take advantage of it to effect a landing; it is generally believed they would experience a too favorable redemption:  p.250 in a case so dreadful, I could be almost tempted to wish for a masculine habit, and proportionable strength to enable me to face the enemy, rather than be left to the mercy of these unhappy, misguided people. I trust, however, that our fears are greater than the danger.

As a slight trait in the character of the lower Irish, and a proof of their disposition to impose, I shall mention two trifling instances. A butcher came, lately, to me, with a kid for sale; I proposed taking a quarter, for which he asked me 4s. 6d.; not knowing the value of the article, but fully aware of the very little dependence that was to be placed on his word, I offered him the half of what he asked, which he took; the woman of the house where we lodged, happening, soon after, to come into the kitchen, observed the meat, and asked me how much I gave for it; upon my telling her, she said, was it possible the man could so grossly impose upon  p.251 me, declaring, that thirteen pence was all that should have been paid for the whole kid. The second instance happened to G., who was better prepared to resist imposition; a man came to sell him a greyhound, for which he asked three guineas, and, after a little altercation, took nine shillings! I could relate many anecdotes of a similar nature, but these will suffice to give you an idea of the lower class of people in this part of the country; they are, however, far from thinking they do wrong; the greater number of them are Roman Catholics; they call Protestants heretics, and to cheat or impose upon them, is, in their opinion, no crime; if asked why they told a falsehood, for the purpose of deception, their answer is, that it was to heretics, and that they would do the same by them. Yet, though these people would practise every art, trick, and chicanery, to impose upon a stranger, particularly if a protestant,  p.252 they possess genuine sentiments of integrity, were they properly cultivated; their priests have great influence over their minds, and they are rarely known to practise any kind of fraud upon them; why is this? because reverence for their sacred order, and the strictest deference for their principles is, from their infancy, instilled into their ductile minds. But it is not the interest of these priests to make virtue the creed of their flock, since the most heinous crimes can be absolved by a sum of money, which is usually proportioned to the circumstances of the offender, and becomes the perquisite of the priest. What inducement is here for virtue? was it practised, the one party would lose the principal profits of his living, while the other could no longer find a palliative for a vicious course of life: I speak only in general terms; that there are, in this country, many worthy characters, who do honor to the sacred  p.253 name they bear, and who strive to form the mind and manners of the people consigned to their care, by the standard of excellence, is beyond a doubt; yet it is also a fact, but too well substantiated, that the greater number mislead the ignorant multitude, who submit themselves entirely to their direction. A person, illiterate in ideas, and penurious in circumstances, confesses to his priest some crime that he has committed; he is not lectured upon the sinfulness of his conduct or, if he is, the proper effect is lost; when he is told, that he can purchase his absolution, to obtain money for that purpose is often difficult, and is it not probable that to remove the difficulty, another crime may be added to the one from which he is to be absolved? Such confidence have they in the power of their priests to grant them absolution, and so much disgrace is attached to the refusal, that when they cannot procure the extorted  p.254 sum, acts of desperation not infrequently ensue; a melancholy instance of this kind happened not long since. A poor widow, and the mother of nine children, was refused absolution for want of a certain sum of money; after vainly trying to procure it, she returned to the priest, and conjured him to take all she could give; he ordered her to quit his presence, and an act of suicide was the consequence! she was found by her neighbours, hanging to one of the beams of her wretched hovel. {⬌} I am glad to hear that Miss H. is rather better, though, indeed, I fear her's is only protracted misery; poor young creature, it must be a hard heart, indeed, that would not feel for her severe sufferings. God bless you, dearest Mary Ann.

Adieu.

49.

TO MISS T— Loughrea,

July 1805.

Your letter, my dear Mary Ann, gave me much pleasure; from the affectionate attachment and fond solicitude I have ever evinced towards you, you may judge of comfort I derive in hearing of your welfare. {⬌} Such is our rambling destiny, that we expect to be almost immediately removed from Loughrea, but indeed, to own the truth, I shall not regret it; it is a stupid and unsociable place, and we are so annoyed with rats, that I, who have a perfect antipathy at them, am really in continual terror. I never saw any place so infested; I am  p.256 told that most parts of Ireland are subject to them in a greater or less degree, but it is a singular fact, that no other venomous animals are to be found in the country; it is said that they will not live in it, that a toad and snake, were brought over by way of experiment, and that they died in a very short time.

There are weekly fairs, or markets held in this town; the number of country people that assemble, and the crowds that appear in the streets are almost incredible, in so small a place; our windows are opposite to that part of the street where the principal bustle of the market takes place; and we are often witness to scenes of riot and confusion that we could very well dispense with; they no sooner get money for the stock they sell, than they visit the first public house, where they soon inebriate themselves with copious libations of their favorite liquor, whiskey; they then indulge a vein for quarrelling; and the shillelagh is handled with dexterity; oh! then,

1. What stabs and what cuts,
   What clattering of sticks,
   What strokes on the guts,
   What bastings and kicks.
2. With cudgels of oak,
   Well hardened in flame,
   An hundred heads broke,
   An hundred struck lame.

So much for an Irish market; similar scenes take place at all public meetings, even a funeral is not exempt from them; indeed, the day of burial is not a day of mourning here, but of feasting; those, who, I believe, are called weepers, or criers, are hired, and their death-howl is the most ridiculous, and the most hideous, that you can conceive. Among the higher ranks of society, this absurd and barbarous custom is entirely abolished, but the peasantry still observe it;  p.258 their ceremonies are not calculated to awaken much solemnity, or inspire awe; the corpse is carried along, in a rude and hurried manner, followed by a concourse of people, the dress and manners of whom do not bespeak the serious occasion for which they have met; and their unconcerned appearance, and conversation, (amid the horrid yells that assail their ears,) seem no indication of sorrow for the deceased. Immediately that the corpse is consigned to its last home, the party returns to the habitation that has lost one of its inmates, where the day is passed in feasting and drinking, till incapacitated from either acting or thinking like rational beings, they quarrel and fight, and then return to their respective homes, generally maimed and disfigured; offering an impressive lesson, of the bad effects that must ever arise from that excess, which degrades man to a lower state than the  p.259 brute creation. Happy for them if they would profit by the experience they dearly, and too frequently purchase.

The manner that the common people pass their Sunday here, does not tend to increase morality. After church service, men, women, and children, usually desert their cabbins, and resort to various parts of the country, where there are tents fixed: here, religion and the serious duties of the day are silenced by bagpipes and violins; every foot is in motion to these irresistible sounds, which are not unfrequently interrupted by the discordant noise of squalling brats, scolding mothers, and swearing fathers; the whiskey bottle is frequently circulated, and boisterous mirth for a while resounds through the tent, till the repeated large draughts of inebriating liquor begin to operate in the head; then, riot ensues, and the clamor of screaming, groaning, swearing and clashing of shillelaghs, succeeds  p.260 the harmony that before prevailed, and concludes this ill-spent day.

Unhappy people! what misery ye bring on yourselves, that might, by the exertion of a little resolution, be avoided: a more temperate life, joined with industry, would fertilize your country, and lessen the evils of poverty; would clothe and educate your children with decency, and provide you with a clean and comfortable abode, and wholesome food; but, alas! to observe the conduct of the low Irish, in their own country, one would suppose that indolence was their birthright; and, where that is the predominant feeling of the mind, vice and licentiousness seldom fail to be the concomitants. From whence does this indolence arise? is it a natural defect? no, their conduct in other situations proves the contrary, and shews, that the evil exists in oppression; and that the mind, enfeebled by hardships, becomes incapable of exerting itself.  p.261 Industry in this country wants proper encouragement; but while the present system lasts, of proprietors quitting their paternal estates, and letting their lands, there can be no hope of reform among the peasantry; between the actual proprietor, and the occupant of the land, there are frequently four and sometimes five progressive tenants, who perhaps never saw the land they hold; it is assigned from one to the other, till it comes into the possession of a description of people called here, middlemen, who rapaciously prey upon the hapless beings that are unfortunate enough, to take farms of them. The land is encumbered by a heavier rent than its utmost returns can afford to pay, and the tenant becomes dispirited, when he finds that after depriving himself of most of the comforts of life, and toiling day and night, he is scarcely able to pay his landlord, and to procure coarse raiment,  p.262 with the most humble fare, for himself and family. A slave to his oppressive master, he is subservient to him in every thing; discouraged by exaction, he bestows very little of the invigorating assistance of good husbandry on his land; the soil loses its natural fertility from neglect, and like its master, degenerates into worthlessness, from the pressure of poverty, and oppression. How different might be the lot of these hapless people, if the proprietors of landed estates, would, themselves, reside on their property, at least, a part of every year, and devote some portion of their time, to an enquiry into the state of their tenantry, redress their grievances, encourage their industry, reward meritorious conduct, and punish vice and immorality; establish schools for the instruction of the rising generation; chusing for the preceptors, such moral and deserving characters, as would act up  p.263 to to the duties of their arduous task, in a conscientious manner, impressing upon the minds of their juvenile pupils, a firm sense of rectitude and loyalty, and of truth and religion, untinctured with fanaticism, or superstition. Let them be taught to revere the laws, to love their king, practice industry, and to pursue virtue, as the certain means of securing comfort in this life, and peace in a world to come; these sentiments imbibed in their infancv, would become permanent and settled principles as they encreased in years; and produce loyal subjects, good soldiers, and contented minds; a country, happy in its own fertility, would, by proper attention to its cultivation, yield abundant crops, and repay its labourers by increasing all their comforts.

To bring this theory into practide, would doubtless be attended with some difficulty; a people, long accustomed to indolence, and ignorance, and unused  p.264 to controul those passions, which so often, and so fatally lead them to join in the tumults that ensure their own misery, and have hitherto retarded the improvement of their country; these people, it must be acknowledged, would require much time, care, and attention, to bring them into that degree of order and sobriety, necessary for their own happiness, as well as for the good of the community at large; but the blessed effects that would result from such a plan, if it could be accomplished, are so obvious, and must be so universally experienced, that it would be worth the trial. Whatever was the event, the effort would be that of christians, whom the Almighty had empowered with the means of doing good to their fellow creatures; to me, it appears a duty incumbent for those who are blessed with affluence to share it with the poor, and to seek out such means as will be best calculated to promote the comfort  p.265 of those, whom providence has made them vassals; it should ever be remembered, that, “to whom much is given, much will be required,” and that a day of final retribution will arrive, when a strict account of every action will be demanded; may it be the earnest endeavour of all, to render such a one as will ensure everlasting felicity.

The superstition of the common people is very great; a striking instance offers itself, in the reverence they pay towards what they call holy water. In this province (Connaught) there are several wells, which in the early stages of Christianity, were dedicated to some tutelary saint, whose name was believed to consecrate the water, and bestow upon it a healing quality that would cure every invalid who immersed themselves in it.

On the anniversary of each saint, an incredible number of people flock round these holy wells, and fancy they, either  p.266 cure their disease, by plunging into the sacred water, or expiate their offences, by going several times round them, on their bare knees. I lately saw a woman and her daughter, a girl of about eight years of age, who had just returned from performing this act of superstition; they had walked seventeen miles; the poor child's feet were blistered and bleeding; yet the mother beheld them with pleasure, because she believed that the girl (who had been dipped several times in the holy well), was for ever cured of fits, that she had been long subject to; her own knees were sadly lacerated, but she bore the pain with patience, because she supposed that she had atoned for her errors, and that they were forgiven her {⬌}

We have been to  p.267 several of the weekly balls, but it has not made us in the smallest degree acquainted with the inhabitants of the town; they preserve a respectable distance; the late hour that they assemble at these dances is truly absurd. At a town not a great many miles from hence, Lord B. and General B. were returning one night from a party, between eleven and twelve o'clock, observing a brilliant light in the assembly rooms, they proposed going in for an hour or two, but were surprised on entering, to find no company; they enquired the reason, of a man who had just finished lighting up the lamps, and were answered that the company never came so soon : — “So soon! pray what time then are they expected?” — “They usually begin to come about twelve.” — “Well, well,” said General B., “I think, my Lord, you and I will go home now; we can call here after breakfast to-morrow morning.” This was an excellent rebuke, and  p.268 and I regret that the party did not hear it.

Adieu, dear Mary Ann.

@book{E800005-005,
  title 	 = {Sketches of life and manners with delineation of scenery in England, Scotland and Ireland (...)},
  author 	 = {Mary Ann Grant},
  edition 	 = {2},
  note 	 = {268 pages},
  publisher 	 = {Cox, Sons and Baylis, Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields},
  address 	 = {London},
  date 	 = {1811}
}
 E800005-005.bib