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This is not the only house of mine that looks out on it. On the coast of County Clare am I not Earl of Enniskerry and Baron Shandrin in the Peerage of Ireland? I have an ancient castle. Sheer from a rock stands it, and the sea has always raged up against its walls. Many ships lie wrecked under that loud implacable sea. But mine is a brave strong castle.
For a boy, of eight I was a fair chess-player. A friend and distant relative of ours, Captain Meagher brother of Thomas Francis Meagher, who was a general in the Confederate Army during the American War stayed for a time at an inn in the village of Enniskerry, which was two or three miles away. He was a frequent visitor, and I used to continually worry him to play chess.
"I only know, your reverence, what Kate Kavanagh told me. There had been great dancing last night. The supper was ordered at Michael Dunne's, and the cars were ordered, and they went to Enniskerry and back." "But Michael Dunne would not dare to serve supper to people who were not married," said the priest. "The supper had been ordered, and they would have to pay for it whether they ate it or not.
There was a pig's head, and the cake cost eighteen shillings, and it was iced." "Never mind the food," said the priest, "tell me what happened." "Kate said that after coming back from Enniskerry, Michael Dunne said: 'Is this the wedding party? and that Ned jumped off the car, and said: 'To be sure. Amn't I the wedded man. And they had half a barrel of porter."
"Punch or Judy," replied Father Healy laconically. Although Glencullen Chapel was the nearest to Springfield, the house was in the parish of Enniskerry. Here a certain Father O'Dwyer was the incumbent. Father O'Dwyer was a very irascible man of powerful physique; he was as much feared by the godly as by the ungodly.
One evening, many years ago, when Whit-Monday in Enniskerry was a very different thing from what it is now, I was looking out of a window in that village, watching the police, who had been brought in for the occasion, getting ready to start for Bray.
It was said that a priest had been killed there in "ninety-eight." At a spot where two roads crossed, on the way to Enniskerry, could still be traced the outlines of the graves of several suicides; one of these had the remains of a very old oaken stake sticking diagonally from it.
Lord Bellew of Ballyragget and Lord Powerscourt of Enniskerry used the eviction threat to get the men back to work, and in Rhode, evictions actually took place. The small farmer on bad land would profit by re-distribution. Many such live in the west and northwest of Ireland. Take a farmer of Donegal. There there's stony, boggy land.
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