In spite of the personal sympathy evidently felt for him, Colonel M---- is still a landlord, the friend and neighbour of every landlord in the country. He is therefore certain to inspire some distrust, and I fancy that the people will talk more freely with me alone than if they see me in his society. After walking for some time in the country, I entered several houses in succession, under various pretexts; and I must at once own that I was very well received. In a moment, when I said I was French, my welcome became even enthusiastic. The whole family, and often even the neighbours, crowded round me, asking me about France, the name alone seeming to contain a wonderful attraction for them.
I am told that this sympathy for France exists all over Ireland, but it is particularly visible in the south, because in the last century most of the soldiers of the brilliant Irish Brigade, that has filled such glorious pages in the annals of our military history, came from this district. The recruiting agents of the kings of France were naturally pursued by the English authorities, and consequently they experienced some very great hardships, but this circumstance has been invaluable to the Irish novelists, whose works are usually based on adventures of which these men are the heroes.
The coast of Bantry Bay was almost deserted at that time, and it was therefore from there that the recruits embarked in search of the French schooners that conveyed them to Dunkerque, where the depôts of the brigade were stationed. It is said, that, in order to avoid compromising themselves, the consignees had the habit of describing the men in their bills of lading as _wild geese_.
Few of them ever returned to the country. It is calculated that more than one hundred thousand died under the French flag; but those who did come back have left such vivid recollections of themselves, that here every one seems to look upon France as a second country, and imagine that they will ultimately regain their liberty through us.
Yesterday, when from the railway I saw the country cottages, I thought the descriptions I had received of their poverty were greatly exaggerated. But to-day I realise that these accounts did not overstep the truth, and that appearances had greatly deceived me. The exterior is passable. Like many old houses in Perche and elsewhere, they are all built of mud tempered with cow-hair or hay, and consolidated with a few laths. As long as the roof is good, and that they are careful to frequently whitewash the exterior, these buildings are very warm in winter, very cool in summer, and they last a long time.