Northern Counties Hotel, Londonderry. 31/8/1918

(Shamrock Hotel with 4 hotels – 1 in each leaf of Castlerock, Strabane, Coleraine and Londonderry,

The Gibson Hotels, Mrs. Gibson, proprietress Corporation Arms, Coleraine, Abercorn Arms Strabane, Golf Hotel, Castlerock and Northern Hotel, Londonderry.

Dear Mother,

This is being written on some writing paper which I thieved from the hotel in Londonderry whilst on my way to see the Aunts at Quigley’s Point. I became fed up with London so took advantage of my free pass and came over to Ireland.

I left London at Euston Station by the 4.45 pm train and arrived at Fleetwood at 10.30 pm, passing through Stafford and Wigan enroute and boarded the packet boat for Belfast but I was in a 1st class cabin and had a good sleep in a rather narrow bunk and moreover I was able to have some bacon and eggs and the trip was a very quiet one, though a trifle nippy. We reached Belfast at 8 am and I was much struck with the enormous ship building yards and the number of ships being built there. They turn ships out in Belfast like you would scones out of an oven.

Well l struck earth again at 9 o’clock and as I had to wait until 1 p,m for a train to Londonderry, I decided to explore the town, which I did per electric train then I had lunch for which I did not require a ration card, and caught the train for Londonderry. After 4 hours in the train (about 90 miles) we arrived at Londonderry about 5 o’clock and went to the Northern Counties Hotel, which was rather a dirty place, which is used to the rough stuff from the men’s war boats; the room I was in looked as if it had had a night out in it. Then I went to sleep and missed my dinner by an hour which I thought was an awful misfortune but managed to bribe a type of “murphy” to bring something to eat to my room, which saved the situation.

Next morning l caught the Royal Mail car to Quigley’s Point, a distance of 16 miles for which I was charged the “huge” sum of 1/6d. Quigley’s Point is like Fivedock used to be when we were at Summer Hill, consists of about 6 hovels and an American Hydro aerodrome called a naval base by the Yanks. The two aunts have a rather wee country residence, buried in huge trees and facing the bay. There is about 100 acres adjoining which is let out to tenants at a yearly rental. The Aunts are the “squires” of the village. Aunt Belle is the business woman and runs the show. She is 73 and a bit of a sport and impressed me as being much like Aunt Clara. She is tall and heavy and is like none of the other aunts (your sisters). Aunt Marnie is about as big as Hilda, in other words quite small and is a bit wrinkled and grey, They are both a bit rough but in good health and good hearted and totally devoid of swank. One would take Aunt Belle to be 50 instead of 73. They remember Charlie’s visit and even what he said and what he did when he was here. But I bet he didn’t do much as there isn’t anything to do except eat and sleep.

The people are like the regular run of Irishmen, narrow minded, ignorant and priest ridden. They have some “splendid” ideas of what would happen if they were granted Home Rule. One idea is that all the land belonging to the better class of people would be cut up and GIVEN to them. They will believe absolutely anything that the priests tell them to believe. The Priests get them to take oaths, I hear, to do or not to do just what it suits the Priests for them to do, and it is done in the name of religion. Wherefore Home Rule in Ireland?

The peasants are hardly ever educated sufficiently to enable them to earn a decent living as they are so ignorant that they can’t think for themselves. It made me sick to see the great numbers of able bodied men of military age just loafing about rather than break their oath not to fight, and this is the North. What must it be like in the South

I have not heard from you for some 6 weeks or so but the Aunts have had one from you recently in which, I believe, you said you had sold or were likely to sell “Roslyn”. I am only staying here three days which is quite long enough for a young man to stay with his “maiden aunts”, don’t you think? And I am quite anxious to get back to Hookhams and play billiards and go to theatres and drink whisky etc and in fact kick my heels up in the air and have a good time- things which one can’t very well do when staying with “aunts”.

Well cheerio old thing.

With much love from your affectionate son.

Walter.