The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain: The Works of William Carleton, Volume OneCarleton, William
General
The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain: The Works of William Carleton, Volume One
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
The town itself contained about six thousand inhabitants, had a church,
a chapel, a meeting-house, and also a place of worship for those who
belonged to the Methodist connection, It was nearly half a mile long,
lay nearly due north and south, and ran up an elevation or slight hill,
and down again on the other side, where it tapered away into a string of
cabins. It is scarcely necessary to say that it contained a main street,
three or four with less pretensions, together with a tribe of those vile
alleys which consist of a double row of beggarly cabins, or huts, facing
each other, and lying so closely, that a tall man might almost stand
with a foot on the threshold of each, or if in the middle, that is
half-way between them, he might, were he so inclined, and without moving
to either side, shake hands with the inhabitants on his right and left.
To the left, as you went up from the north, and nearly adjoining the
cathedral church, which faced you, stood a bishop's palace, behind which
lay a magnificent demesne. At that time, it is but just to say that
the chimneys of this princely residence were never smokeless, nor its
saloons silent and deserted as they are now, and have been for years.
No, the din of industry was then incessant in and about the offices of
that palace, and the song of many a light heart and happy spirit rang
sweetly in the valleys, on the plains and hills, and over the meadows
of that beautiful demesne, with its noble deer-park stretching up to the
heathy hills behind it. Many a time, when a school-boy, have we mounted
the demesne wall in question, and contemplated its meadows, waving under
the sunny breeze, together with the long strings of happy mowers, the
harmonious swing of whose scythes, associated with the cheerful noise
of their whetting, caused the very heart within us to kindle with such a
sense of pure and early enjoyment as does yet, and ever will, constitute
a portion of our best and happiest recollections.
At the period of which we write it mattered little whether the prelate
who possessed it resided at home or not. If he did not, his family
generally did; but, at all events, during their absence, or during their
residence, constant employment was given, every working-day in the year,
to at least one hundred happy and contented poor from a neighboring and
dependent village, every one of whom was of the Roman Catholic creed.
I have stood, not long ago, upon a beautiful elevation in that demesne,
and, on looking around me, I saw nothing but a deserted and gloomy
country. The happy village was gone--razed to the very foundations--the
demesne was a solitude--the songs of the reapers and mowers had
vanished, as it were, into the recesses of memory, and the magnificent
palace, dull and lonely, lay as if it were situated in some land of the
dead, where human voice or footstep had not been heard for years.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account