THE DONEGAL MURDERS.
[TO THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR.') SIR,—Though a Worcestershire incumbent, I am well acquainted with the remote part of Ireland to which the late murders have given a melancholy interest. It is remarkable for the beauty of its scenery, to which I always return with undiminished pleasure, after visiting the most picturesque countries in Southern Europe.
The mountains, though.not high, are singularly graceful in out- line, and clothed with white or purple heather, intermixed with much natural wood. High, precipitous rocks break the surface, and in the recesses of the woods are numerous lovely little lakes, bordered with white water-lilies, and fed by rapid, clear streams, which pour in frequent cascades over the mossy, fern-covered boulders. Lofty mountains are dimly seen in the distance, and in fine weather the tints on the hill-sides remind one of the Mediter- ranean, by their warmth and brilliancy ; but the great charm of the landscape is the sea, which here penetrates the land in every direction,—a tremendous surf thunders on the shore of the open ocean ; but the two great bays, Swilly and Mulroy, resemble inland lakes, the former enclosed by grand and bold cliffs, the latter softer in character and full of islets, on which seals bask, and among which the strong tide is ever rushing to or from the unseen ocean. So near the Atlantic, rain and wind must often be expected, but the climate is never cold. The Gulf Stream flows past the coast, and poor Lord Leitrim's house, not at Milford, but some seven or eight miles distant, was partly fitted with mahogany that had been washed ashore on his estate. Tourists have rarely visited this charming neighbourhood ; they hasten on to the grander but bleaker scenery of the furthest west, and after the recent crimes, they will fear to linger in Donegal at all. Yet the kidnapping of strangers for ransom, after the Italian fashion, has never been an Irish practice, and ordinary crime is little known in Donegal, where the resident gentry scarcely lock their houses at night. The murder of Lord Leitrim was the result of a long series of contentions with his tenantry, and those who have nothing to do with land may ex- pect nothing but civility in any part of Ireland. One may even be a landlord, and enjoy perfect safety, so long as one is content with receiving the customary rent, leaving the peasantry to their own devices. An old friend of mine held a small estate near Lord Leitrim's for many years, and though an Orangeman, was an universal favourite with his tenants, who were all Roman Catholics. But in spite of low rents, they have grown poorer under this want of management, till the map of the property is like a patchwork quilt, full.of small allotments, mixed up together in indescribable confusion. The tenants were not content with dividing their farms, each separate field must be subdivided, so that the different occupiers should have an equal share of the good land ; nay, even the houses, or rather hovels, are sometimes divided on the owner's death. I was told in the most matter-of-fact manner by one man, that his father had left him the house, and his sister the roof-; so she and her husband took it away, and built a house for it on their plot of ground, just as Trinity Church, Worcester, was built to receive the roof of the Guesteu Hall of the Cathedral Priory, when that interesting relic of monastic architecture was demolished in the recent improvements!. It may easily be imagined how much inconvenience this " Rundale "* system produces to the farmer, who has to cross his neighbours' ground to get to his own, and how many feuds and disputes among the impulsive mountaineers, who are huddled. together in their little hamlets, far from every civilising influence, and in a pitiable state of discomfort in their smoky huts. Yet they are quite content, and only ask to be let alone. They habitually speak of the land as their own, and of buying or selling it, meaning the "tenant-right ;" and it is clear that they regard landlords as entitled to no more than a fixed rent- charge, like a tithe-owner in England. They turn out on Sundays and market-days wonderfully well dressed, speak English as well as Celtic—" It is good to have two tongues," they say—and are not always, I am told, so poor as they appear. It is considered the duty of a trustee to try to improve this state of things, but I know not how the Riband Lodges may regard our- attempts to rearrange the farms and do away " Rundale," and, meanwhile it may be prudent to take my holidays elsewhere. I may add that not only are the living Celts badly housed, but even in the grave they have miserable accommodation. When a funeral approaches the ancient church (a ruin, of course), a hole is hastily scratched, by removing some not long-buried remains ; the new coffin is then put down, and the old ones piled over it,—yet a neighbouring gentleman has lost much of his well deserved popu- larity by suggesting the propriety of a new cemetery. We must, in short, go to Sicily, or certain parts of Italy or Spain, for such a backward civilisation, and its unfailing concomitant, secret societies and recklessness as to human life. Improvement must be slow, in the face of bad laws and customs, and above all, great poverty. The national schools are often mere cabins, and their teachers badly paid, and the clergy of all denominations now depend on their flocks, and must suit their tastes and ideas. It is much to be wished that our rulers were as anxious to stamp out Ribandism in Ireland as. Ritualism in England, and to promote civilisation in Donegal as to preserve barbarism in Bulgaria ; a very small portion of the sin
millions would go a great way.—I am, Sir, &c., N. G. B.
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