Casey A Tenants Tale

A Chronicle of Life In Rural Ireland
1. Auflage 2013
ISBN: 978-1-909204-18-8
Verlag: Dolman Scott Publishing
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 198 Seiten

The Tenant's Tale is a fascinating chronicle of life in rural Ireland during the 19th Century. This narrative spans virtually the whole of the nineteenth century, a century that has been the most traumatic in Ireland's long and troubled history.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Casey, Terence

Leseproben

CHAPTER TWO

On arriving back in our home town of Charleville in the winter of eighteen thirty, we went straight to our Uncle Michaels house to thank him for the kindness he had shown our sadly departed mother. It was a great surprise for him to see the both of us again; and he instantly invited us into the house and within a few minutes the table had been laid and our Auntie Hannah was busily preparing a meal for us. Later they told us about our poor mother’s brief illness and also that that our bank had given him the funds we had arranged. He then went onto tell us that our parents cabin was now occupied by the O’Farrell family who I knew were distant relations of my father. We sat there chatting that night not realising how late it was, but fortunately both our Aunt and Uncle insisted we stayed with them until we found somewhere of our own to live. Before we went to sleep that night I thanked Owen for insisting we return home as I now understood his reasoning.

The next morning after a leisurely breakfast we went to visit our parent’s grave with Michael and Hannah where we paid our belated respects to our dear mother. On seeing my mother’s grave for the first time tears flooded from my eyes and I realised that I should have been there in her hour of need. All my life she was always the one I turned to when I needed help and advice and she had never let me down. As far as I can remember we had never had a cross word and she had always encouraged me to make something of myself. Both her and my father had struggled for years on a pittance and she had great hopes that Owen and I would better ourselves. When I finally stopped crying I asked my companions to leave me as I wanted to grieve alone, I must have stood there for hours thinking of all the wonderful times I had shared with my mother and before I left her graveside that day I made a solemn promise that come what may I would keep my promise and one day have my own farm.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas Owen and I began to look for a small farm to rent, but we were soon found that everywhere was now closed until the New Year. In the meantime we helped our Aunt and Uncle prepare for the Christmas celebrations. For them money was tight and so they were grateful for the financial help we were able to give them. Both Owen and I had not realised how tired we were after four years of very hard work and so this brief interlude was like a holiday for us. For me Christmas Day at my Uncle Michael’s, reminded me of many previous Christmas’s spent with my parents in the past, firstly we went to early mass, then home to help our Auntie prepare the feast as she had invited lots of our old friends for the traditional dinner. Later the music started with the party carrying on until the early hours of the morning. Next day St Stephens was my birthday and much to my surprise for the first time in many years Owen bought me a present. His gift was unusual as it was a spade, but for me his gift was symbolic, as it meant that I would succeed in the search for a farm. Later that day we all went to see the traditional hurling match and because as Owen was such a renowned hurler everyone wanted him to play but he reluctantly declined. He told me later that he wanted to play, but he could not take a chance and get injured as he hoped we would soon find a place to rent.

Early in the New Year we decided to pay a visit to my old friend Brian Sullivan at Ceciltown. It was an icy cold day and I knew from past experience that Brian would be at home in front of the fire. He was pleasantly surprised to see both of us and invited us to stop for dinner. Obviously as we had not met for a number of years we had lots of news to catch up with. As we chatted the conversation eventually turned to our reason for returning to Ireland. When he heard that we hoped to rent a small farm in the Charleville area his ears pricked up. Suddenly his whole manner changed and he became very business like and he asked us a series of searching questions, mainly about our financial situation. I explained that the two of us had worked virtually non stop for the past four years. Also I said that during our time in England we had earned very good wages, most of which we had saved. Now back in Ireland we were hoping to realise our dream which was to rent our own small farm. From his manner I could see that he was impressed by what we had said. On our departure that evening he kindly promised to obtain an interview for us with Mr William Grogan, the local land agent for Sir William Wrixon Beecham. Brian was as good as his word, because when we met him after mass on the following Sunday he told us to be at Mr Grogan’s office at ten o’clock on the following morning.

The next morning we were both up at the crack of dawn, polishing our shoes and putting on the new suits we had purchased in Liverpool for special occasions. Before we left for town, Auntie Hannah insisted on inspecting both of us, as she knew that we needed to make a good impression at today‘s meeting. Fortunately we did not need to worry as our interview with Mr Grogan went very well. Brian Sullivan had he said, spoken in glowing terms about the two of us and his recommendation was good enough for him. He then mentioned how sad he was that our mother had died and how unfortunate it was that we had not heard the terrible news for many months. As we talked he asked Owen about our employment in England. Owen in reply, gave him a brief description of our work on the railroad in Liverpool. Mr Grogan on hearing this asked us many questions regarding the construction, as he said that even the newspapers in Ireland had hailed its completion as one of the Modern Wonders of the World. Our interview obviously went very well and he seemed to be impressed by both of us, because he now handed us for signing, the tenancy agreement for a small farm of ten acres. He said that it was now available at Springfort, near Charleville as the former tenant had recently died. The farm he said had been neglected but we could lease the land for twenty five years, which was the normal tenancy arrangement at the time. Owen and I were both elated at the news and thanked Mr Grogan for allowing us to have this wonderful opportunity. On leaving Mr Grogan’s office we rushed back to tell our Uncle and Auntie the good news and by the end of that hectic week we had signed the tenancy agreement and made our first rental payment.

On Saturday morning the twentieth of January eighteen thirty-one, we went once again to Mr Grogan’s office where we met William Grogan’s son James. This was the first time I had met James Grogan and it was to be the start of a life long friendship that has endured until this day. James had been instructed by his father to take us to view the farm at Springfort. It is a three mile walk from Charleville but the three of us being young and fit and in high spirits, made quick work of the walk to what was about to be our new home. I shall never forget the first time we turned off the road and walked up the little lane to the farmhouse. This is what we had dreamed and strived for and now at last our dreams had been realised. After showing us round, James left but before leaving he handed us the keys to the farm and then he shook both our hands and wished us good luck for the future. Owen and I quickly realised that morning what a tremendous amount of work was required both on the house and also the land. After mass the next day, some old friends kindly offered to help us renovate the farmhouse, these offer’s of help were very much appreciated. But before we could start work I had to go to town and purchase the building materials and also the provisions we needed. Whilst I was doing this Owen went back to Uncle Michaels for our belongings, as we had already decided to start living in our new home.

We then decided that I would concentrate on making the house habitable, while Owen worked on clearing and manuring the land preparing it for the coming spring. It was very fortunate for us that I made the farmhouse my first priority, because on the twenty ninth of January we had the coldest day in living memory. This was followed by gale force northerly winds and heavy snowfall that lasted for the next ten days. Fortunately the weather changed and by the middle of February we were both able to start work digging the land preparing it for planting our first potato seed

Easter was early that year as I remember, and we decided to invite the friends and family that had been helping us to dinner on Easter Day. With this in mind we both went to early mass and on returning home we started to prepare the feast helped by our Auntie Hannah. In the evening the music started and Springfort held the first of the many parties we were to enjoy over the years. I could not help noticing how many young girls that came, knowing that they all had their eyes on my brother Owen. But it was soon obvious that he was only interested in a local girl called Maureen Kelly.

On a bright sunny morning in the middle of April, Owen and I set off in high spirits for Buttevant Fair, as we had arranged to meet Brian Sullivan there. He had promised to help us purchase the livestock we needed and with his years of experience we gladly took up his offer. It was Market day and we followed Brian as he met and talked to his many old friends and acquaintances. At the time I thought he was just passing the time of day with them, but I found out later he was asking who was selling the best livestock. Once he had received the information he required, we went with him to make our purchases. I have witnessed in my time many farmers haggling, but none can compare with Brian. That day I received an education that I would never forget, it was a lesson from a master. As...