Mayo and Galway, 1852. Five years after the Famine — the roofs are still off, the faces still marked.Sir Francis Bond Head, retired soldier and former Lieutenant-Governor of Upper Canada, arrives in the west of Ireland with a firman from the constabulary, a carpet bag, and a deeply personal grievance against the Irish jaunting car. He wanted to see the real Ireland — not the tourist route, but the west, where the poverty was worst.What follows is one of the most extraordinary pieces of Victorian travel writing about Ireland: funny, warm, and quietly devastating. Bond Head calls unannounced on Lord Lucan — the man who evicted 10,000 from his Mayo estates — sits in lean-tos with evicted women who bless him through the rain, asks a barefoot boy what hurts his feet most ("Snow is cauld, your honour"), and encounters a very tinder little horse who refuses to go east.He also visits workhouses whose populations have fallen from 4,400 to 995, talks to drivers who remember when the potato fed everything, and asks the constabulary at every stop whether there is really as much religious conflict as the English press would have it.Features readings from A Fortnight in Ireland by Sir Francis Bond Head (1852), American edition, Putnam's Library.Content Advisory: Contains historical accounts of the Great Famine, post-Famine evictions, and poverty in the west of Ireland.

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