(ca 1807- )
|=13 JUL 1827||
Honor (Hanna) Walls|
(ca 1807- )
|Notes||Griffiths:||Leasing house & land, location 101a|
(ca 1828- )
=9 Jan 1848
(28 Jun 1829-
4 May 1910)
=14 Jun 1855
William John Walls
(30/3/1833 - )
(28/8/1836 - )
(2/10/1842 - )
=6 Sep 1868
(18/2/1847 - )
=21 Jan 1875
(2/4/1850 - )
(ca 1856 - )
=1 May 1876
Henry (Harry) Doyle
Murray Lynn & |
Mike Camden's family
|JoAnn O'Neill's family||Martina Cassidy's family|
|Griffith||Leasing house & land, location 141a||Leasing house & land, location 101b|
Hannah was almost certainly an Aunt of William John Walls, Ellen's husband.
|Date||13 Jul 1827|
Some of the tenants were prosperous, and had their twelve or twenty acres of land, had comfortable houses, and felt a care for cleanliness and decency of appearance. These were the Protestant part of the population, who were in all respects better off than their Roman Catholic neighbours, better clothed and better housed; why it was so I cannot say, but so it was; perhaps because the latter made earlier marriages, and brought children into the world whom they were hardly able to feed, and could not have fed at all had it not been for the potato. Wretched things many of the cabins were, consisting mostly, of three small rooms, one of which was the living place, with a window stuffed with rags to fill up the broken panes, and a chimney which did not let out the smoke; another of which was the general sleeping-room of the family; and a third, where was often a loom, if the owner of the house were a weaver. The floor was of mud full of hollow ruts, on which with difficulty stood a deal table that had lost one of its legs, the rest of the furniture consisting of two or three low stools, an iron pot, and a gridiron, and sometimes a spinning-wheel placed in the corner of the fire-place. The roof was of thatch, and it not unfrequently let in the sun and the rain. The pig would often join the family party, and add his grunt to the general conversation, while the cocks and the dunghill before the door, where they gained a scratching, would roost on the beam which projected the chimney.
In vain my father endeavoured to induce his tenants to make their cottages more habitable, to shake them out of their indolence, to awaken in them a desire for greater comfort, and arouse them from a state of contented poverty and dirt. They had no notion of the value of time, and when they ought to have been hard at work in ploughing their fields, and cultivating their little piece of garden ground, they would stand about talking, or staring, or yawning, instead of doing with all their might the task which lay before them. "Ned", my father would say to a brawny man some six feet high, without shoes or stockings, with tattered trousers and ragged coat, "Ned, you will never try and get a better cabin than this one! It's a shame that a man so strong as you are, and with a wife and children, shouldn't strive to make a better living for them, and give them a more comfortable house to dwell in."
"Arrah, why, yer honour," Ned would reply, " shure this cabin sarved my father all his life, and lie lived to be an ould man - the heavens be his bed this day!"
"Yes," my father answered, "but that's no reason why you shouldn't try to improve the place, and especially as I have offered to do all I can to help you to make the house more fit for you and the wife to live in, and to keep it clean and tidy. The world would come to a standstill if we were always content to keep things as they are, be they good or bad."
"An' do ye think, sir, I would aiqual meself to live better than me fathers before me? "replied Ned, with a tone of indignation in his voice. "Sorra a bit of me; what plaised thim plaises me, and will to my dying day."
"But surely you might mend that hole in the thatch, and prevent the rain coming in and making all the things about you wet, the floor like mud, and giving you all colds. This must be as unhealthy as it is uncomfortable."
"Shure, yer honour, I have been mayning to mend it every day this last fortnight and I have always put it off and off till tomorrow, for something always intervayned to prevint it, and the weather is so fine now that it can wait till I have time."
"No, said my father decidedly, "that hole must be mended to-day, or I'll not send you the fine cork-red potatoes I promised you for seed for your garden. Now, mark me, you'll lose the cork-reds unless that hole in the thatch be mended before the day's out."
After these emphatic words my father turned away, and I heard him in the evening telling my mother that Ned had sent to the lodge to borrow a ladder might get to the roof of his house and mend the hole in the thatch. ...
Bell's father was Henry Humphrey Bell of Warwick House, the landlord and neighbour of the McCormicks. The situation is undoubtedly true, but I must question whether the interpretation of cause is correct, was the reason indolence, as Charles states, or more hopelessness after many years of oppression, land confiscations, crop failure and religious intolerance?