The Reminiscences of an Irish Land Agent — John Shaqi
The Reminiscences of an Irish Land AgentHussey, Samuel Murray
History
The Reminiscences of an Irish Land Agent
Hussey, Samuel Murray
Country life -- Ireland; Hussey, Samuel Murray, 1824-; Ireland -- History -- 1837-1901
At one period, when he was becoming an ardent Radical, an obsequious
toady said:--
'You'll become a second Marat.'
'There's no fear that he will die in the same place,' promptly came from
Ronayne.
On another occasion the two were waiting for the judges outside their
lodgings during the Assizes.
Suddenly Ronayne, in the hearing of a number of acquaintances, called
out:--
'You had better come away at once, Nagle.'
'Why should I?' indignantly.
'If you stop five minutes longer there's a shower of rain coming on and
you might get washed.'
On a third occasion, Nagle told Ronayne he was going to invest some
money in a mining exploration.
'Explore your own landed property, my dear fellow,' was Ronayne's
advice.
'But you know I have not got any.'
'Good Heavens, you don't mean to say you have cleaned your nails?'
Though he was an out-and-out Fenian, Ronayne was as honest a man as I
ever met, and he was considered one of the most amusing men in the House
of Commons.
The attorneys in Cork at one time formed quite a small coterie, who
divided all the business until it grew too much for them, one, Mr. Paul
Wallace, being especially harassed with briefs.
At length a barrister named Graves came down from Dublin, and was
introduced to Wallace by another attorney with the remark:--
'Counsel are very necessary.'
'Yes,' said Wallace; 'as a matter of fact, we are all being driven to
our graves.'
At Kanturk Sessions, Mr. Philip O'Connell was consulted by a client
about the recovery of a debt. He at once saw that the defence would be a
pleading of the statute of limitations, so he told his client that if he
could get a man to swear that the debtor had admitted the debt within
the last six years, he would succeed, but not otherwise.
O'Connell went off to take the chair at a Bar dinner to a new County
Court judge.
As the dessert was being set on the table, a loud knock came at the
door, which was immediately behind the chairman.
'What is it?' cried O'Connell.
A head appeared, and the voice from it explained:--
'I'm Tim Flaherty, your honour, as was consulting you outside, and I
want you to come this way for a while.'
'Don't you see I am engaged and cannot come?'
'But it's pressing and important.'
'I tell you I won't come.'
Then at the top of his voice Tim yelled:--
'Will a small woman do as well, your honour?'
The members of the Bar present, quite unaware of the previous
conversation, exploded in a shout of laughter, and it was long before
O'Connell heard the last of the invidious construction they put on the
affair.
One of the interesting people I came across in the vicinity of Cork was
Mr. Jeffreys, who up to his death in 1862 was the most enterprising and
experimental landed proprietor in the county. He imported Scottish
stewards, and people from far and near came to see his farms.
I should say that in the fifties he did more for agriculture than any
other one man who could be named in Ireland.
He often said to me:--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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