CONDITION OF IRELAND

Evening Star, Issue 22069, 1 July 1935, Page 12

CONDITION OF IRELAND

THE CATTLE QUESTION Having decided that Great Britain and Ireland can no longer pay for all the beef that Ireland is producing, Mr Do Valera’s Government has taken two steps towards reducing supplies, says the Irish correspondent of the ‘ Manchester Guardian.’ The first is the erection of a factory at Roscrea for turning aged and worthless cattle into meat meal. The second is a bounty on calfskins. The first expedient is commended by all. The second led to the slaughter of some 50,000 bull calves last year, only about half as many as the Government desires to get rid of. This year better results are being attained —better, that is, if the policy is indeed wise and necessary. But farmers point out that skill and pains were lavished on breeding in Ireland the best beef-producing stock in the world, and they feel it a cruel waste now to destroy the fruit of those labours. This feeling, reinforced by a kindly dislike for a massacre of the innocents before the customary term, was last year strong enough to decide most farmers to keep their bull calves. Those who did so paid heavily for their soft-heartedness, and few are prepared to risk a repetition of the loss. Hence, in Munster at least, calves are being killed off in much greater numbers than last year. ' Everyone admits the wastefulness of the present method of destroying calves a few days old to skin them without any attempt at making use of the carcases. The business is still conducted an an emergency footing. The carcases are said usually to be buried. But this is not the universal practice. Motoring along a main road from Killarney I happened to notice a disused chimney stack standing at the edge of a wood, and near it a walled enclosure. I could not imagine what these were there for, and as the wood was full of primroses and violets I gladly_ took the excuse for stopping to investigate. When I looked over the enclosure wall there struck me a most unspringliko smell, and I saw down into a pit—apparently some rudimentary kind of mine shaft—with stagnant water at the bottom and three or four skinned carcases—calves presumably; I did not feel called upon to make'a close examination —floating indecently on the surface. They would have been better buried. SMUGGLING. Another by-product of the economic war is cattle smuggling, now one of Ireland’s most flourishing industries, and an all-Ireland industry at that. 1 was not near the northern border, but all through the west there is talk of cattle sent off for smuggling trade, and even in Munster I was once surprised to hear of Ulster buyers giving new life to the fairs. Black cattle arc the most suitable for this industry, and the white-faced Hereford, once popular in Connaught, is now at a discount, being inconveniently conspicuous after dark. The import duty of £4 or £G per head means that there is plenty of money for all in the trade, and the Royal Ulster Constabulary can easily grow rich if they choose to listen to appeals to their better feelings as good neighbours or Patriotic Irishmen. But the classic tactics of the indus-.

try are said to be as follow:—First select half a dozen lea active Kerry two-year-olds, send then over the Border at a run, and attrac, the attention of- hte Ulster Constabulary to them. Then, when all available reinforcements have been summoned and committed to an arduous rounding-up operation, a drove of a couple of a hundred fat animals can be slipped over quietly to the shelter of some convenientlysituated farm, whose owner is prepared to claim the beasts, and, if need be, give a convincing account of their antecedents. But besides the economic war there is another and very different result of Mr De Valera’s regime, which is everywhere conspicuous. The country towns in Ireland have slums as bad as the worst Dublin can show. By a bold use of borrowed money these are now being destroyed and replaced by well-built and well-situated four-roomed dwellings, costing about £3OO and rented at 3s 4d per week. This is, of course, not a directly remunerative investment, but I do not think anyone can doubt that splendid value has been obtained for the money spent if he has once seen the conditions of living in the old slums and then visited the new houses with their washing facilities, water-closets, and gardens. The old ladies, of course, grumble a good deal at having to shift out of the old kitchens crammed full of delf china and odds and ends. Heavy breakages in transit, no doubt, but the younger generation appreciate the benefit. If Mr De Valera accomplishes nothing else his name will deserve to he held in remembrance for it.

ODD FACTS. A look round these Western slums brings one upon some odd facts. In one town I was lucky enough to have a guide with a taste ,for antiquities of all sorts. He took me through the worst slum to show me beyond it a motor cemetery. All the cars in Ireland come west of tlie Shannon to die. Some of the bodies were not entirely derelict, being apparently the night quarters of tramps and houseless folk. Beyond this cemetery again was the tinkers’ encampment. A tribe or horde of them assemble there the winter. They liad not yet scattered on their summer vagrancy. My guide asked a man to show his wares. He got up to bring his cans—an upstanding, good-looking fellow, his clothes noticeably tidy. “ Were you always -at this trade?” “Connaught Rangers before the war and through it.” In another slum my guide questioned a young woman for my benefit. “ Husband?” “ British Army.” “Father?” “ Fought in Zulu War.” “ Grandfather?” “ Crimean War.” “ Children?” “ Who knows what they’ll do?” I came across other cases, too, _to remind me how real is the surviving connection between Great Britain and the extreme West, a connection which has grown all the more important now that the doors of-America are closed. One day I gave a “ lift ” to a fine, big young follow limping along a south coast road. His story came out soon enough. Sou of an ex-British Army soldier, originally a corner boy in a Kerry coast town. The soldier had a pension, but lie and it expired 10 years ago, leaving the boy’s mother with three sons and two daughters in a slum in the town. Two of the brothers enlisted in the British Army four years ago and aro now serving in India. This boy was left to look after liis mother and younger sisters. Had worked since lie was 14, sometimes on farms near the town, sometimes as a builder’s assistant.