Ireland Old News

The Boston Globe, 13 June 1906
The Leyland line steamer Canadian arrived at East Boston yesterday afternoon from Liverpool, after an uneventful voyage. She brought as saloon passengers Mr. and Mrs. A. B. Walkington, English tourists who are on their way to San Francisco to view the devastated city; Dr. John O'Hearn of Ireland, on his way to Andover to visit friends; Miss A. F. Wing, Mr. and Mrs. Tilley, Miss C. R. Wing, Miss Edith Roberts, Miss L. P. Guiney and Miss Walkington.
Submitted by dja

 Washington Post
Washington, D.C.
June 22, 1906

Picturesque and Hated Marquis
    Evictions at Loughrea, in which the permanent under secretary for Ireland, Sir Anthony MacDonnell, endeavored in vain to act the role of peacemaker and to intercede in behalf of the tenants, traveled all the way from Dublin to Galway for the purpose, have had the effect of once more drawing the attention to the Marquis of Clanricarde, a peer whose name is execrated throughout the Emerald Isle, and quite the reverse of popular in the United Kingdom.
    Few people know him personally, and yet there is no member of the House of Lords who has been frequently before the public. Half the agrarian crimes in Ireland during the past three decades have been due to his merciless and relentless cruelty toward his tenantry on his vast estates in Ireland. Hundreds of thousands of dollars-probably millions- have been spent by the government in executing the decrees of eviction which he obtained from the courts against his tenants for nonpayment of rent. No one more deaf to appeals for mercy, to every sentiment of generosity, and to pity for suffering than this grandson of the great and illustrious English statesman, George Canning. The latter, the son of an actress, died as prime minister of Great Britain, his end being hastened by the bitterness of his fight for the fundamental principle of his political creed, namely, the freedom of the Commons and of the people from the dictation of aristocracy, both Tory and Whig. Lord Clanricarde, the son of his only daughter and heiress, disregarding the obligations of his political inheritance, has identified himself with every reactionary onslaught made by the nobility against the Commons and the people at large.

Afraid to Show His Face.
    Of course, the marquis is an absentee landlord. He would not dare to show his face in Ireland, for fear of being murdered by those whom he has driven to desperation by destroying the homes which have been theirs for generations, and Portumna Castle, his place in Galway, remains closed from one year's end to the other, the marquis contenting himself with a dingy set of chambers in the Albany, off Piccadilly, where he lives all the year round, except for mysterious periodical trips to Paris. He lives a solitary life, and at the Reform Club, to which he belongs, does not associate with the other members, keeping to himself. Of course, all sorts of stories, some of them not of a particularly pleasant character, have been current concerning him, and it is to this quite as much as to his reserve and taciturnity that is due the chilling attitude, mingled with unfriendly curiosity, of his brother legislators on the rare occasions when he rises to address them in the House of Lords.
    His appearance is as little calculated to arouse good will as his manner and reputation, and his thin lips, scanty gray whiskers, thin, aquiline nose, parchment-like cheeks, and peculiarly-arranged hair, are quite in keeping with his hard, harsh, voice and his appallingly egotistical utterances. He has but one fad, namely, skating, a pastime in which he still excels, in spite of his seventy-three years. He presents an extraordinary appearance on the ice at the rinks in London. His costume on these occasions consists invariably of dark-blue cloth trousers, with a broad stripe of black braid up the side, three or four Cardigan knitted jackets of undetermined hue and great age, over which is worn a remarkably short tweed jacket, made of an extraordinarily loose cut, to give room to the layers of knitted waistcoats underneath. His hat is a genuine old-fashioned "stovepipe" of ancient vintage, perfectly flat in the brim, and perfectly straight up and down from the crown. He speaks to no one on the ice, being wholly absorbed by the work of cutting figures and letters with his skates.

A Chance for a Burke.
    In reply to an inquiry which reaches me from St. Louis, asking who will succeed to the peerages, the titles, and the estates of Lord Clanricarde, I may state that the marquis of Clanricarde will die with the present peer, the earldom of Clanricarde and the entailed estates passing to his cousin, the Marquis of Sligo, who is a frequent visitor to this country. It is possible, however, that this succession may be contested, as the descendants of the Hon. Edmund de Burgh, or Burke, fifth son of the third earl, who died in the middle of the seventeenth century, have a prior claim upon the earldom and estates if there are any such descendants in existence. Hence, everyone bearing the name of Burke, that being the modern corruption of Burgh, will do well to find out whether or not he can trace his descent to this Edmund de Burgh, who married Catherine, daughter of Thomas St. Lawrence, of County Tipperary, lived at Kilcornan, County Galway, and died June 22, 1639. Any one tracing his descent from him, will stand a fair chance on the death of the old Marquis of Clanricarde, of finding himself Earl of Clanricarde, and owner of estates of some 60,000 acres in area, and yielding a revenue of about $250,000.

Submitted by #I000525


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