As far as I have travelled yet, in the mountains of Donegal, through
Derry, Antrim, Tyrone and Down, I have seen no trace of what Dr.
Hepworth lays to the charge of the Irish--laziness, never cultivating a
holding up to the line or into the corners. What excited my wonder again
and again, is the fact that up to the boundary ditch or hedge, into the
corners, up to the very edge of the rocks the tillage extended. I saw
men dig up little fields entirely with the spade among the sudden rocks
of Port-a-dorus. Some of the patches a horse with a plough attached
could not turn in, yet they were tilled; there was not a spade's breadth
left in any corner. And they paid high rent for this ground, rocks and
all. They fell behind in famine time--not so very far--and humbly
grateful were they for the help that came from outside in that time, and
a mercy that forgave a little of the rent. I saw men digging on the
mountain-side on the Leitrim estate, and wondered how they could keep
their footing. As far as I have seen, it is a slander on the people to
say they are averse to labor. On the contrary, they are very laborious,
and singularly uncareful for their personal comfort. I heard a fellow-
countryman at Moville talk of Paddy's laziness. I pointed out to him how
carefully mountain-side and rough bog were cultivated. He admitted it,
but spoke of want of rotation of crops and absence in many instances of
fall-ploughing. This, I humbly consider, is want of skill, or maybe want
of means--not laziness.
Every one says that the country depends almost solely on agriculture;
agriculture rests on farm labor; farm labor pays rents high enough to
produce periodical famine. The L90,000 rental of one estate, the L40,000
of another, is all produced by these lazy people. If there were any spot
so rocky, so wild, that it was under no rent, one might think them lazy
if they failed to make a living out of it, but they make a living and
help to support a landlord, too, out of these rocks and morasses. I hope
to see life farther south, and see if these lazy people exist there.
They do not exist in the north so far as I have seen.
It seems to me that the tenant-farmers have been out of sight
altogether. Now they have waked up, and there is no power to put them to
sleep again. I am more than astonished to find not one intelligent
person to defend the Land laws. There is no possibility of understanding
previous apathy from an American standpoint unless we think of the
thoughtlessness with which the Indians have been treated. The
thoughtless landlord has looked upon his own needs according to the
requirements of his station, not thinking whether the tenant could pay
so much or not, and, whether, if the rent was raised, it left the means
of existence behind. I met with very estimable people, who were taking a
very high rent; higher than any man could honestly pay, and at the same
time laughing at the poverty-stricken devices of their tenants. They did
not think.
It must be borne in mind that there was a famine in the land but a short
time ago, that these thousands and thousands of people who are under
eviction now have no money and no place to go to but the ditch-back, or
the workhouse. The workhouse means the parting with wife and children.
These things must be taken into consideration, to understand the
exasperation of mind which is seething through the whole country.
I do not think the people here, generally speaking, have any idea of the
amount or intensity of hidden feeling. I confess it frightens me. I
stayed in a country place for a week. I boarded with a family who were
much better off than their neighbors. They were favorites at the office
of the landlord, and paid him their rent punctually. I often sat at the
kitchen hearth as neighbor after neighbor came in in the evening and
told in Irish the tale of some hard occurrence that had taken place. I
understood enough to guess the drift of the story. I understood well the
language of eye and clinched hand with which my host listened. The
people who suffered were his people; their woe was his; he felt for them
a sympathy of which the landlord never dreamed; but he never said a
word. I thought as I sat there--silent too--that I would not like to be
that landlord and, in any time of upheaval, lie at the mercy of this
favorite tenant of his.
They talk of agitators moving the people! Agitators could not move them
were it not that they gave voice to what is in the universal heart of
the tenantry.
A gentleman connected with the press said to me to-day: "The fact is
that any outrage, no matter how heart-rending, committed by a landlord
upon his tenantry is taken little notice of--none by Government--but
when a tenant commits an outrage, no matter how great the provocation,
then the whole power of the Government is up to punish."
One great trouble among the people is, they cannot read much, and they
feel intensely; reading matter is too dear, and they are too poor to
educate themselves by reading. What they read is passed from hand to
hand; it is all one-sided, and "who peppers the highest is surest to
please."
The ignorance of one class, consequent upon their poverty, the
insensibility of another class, are the two most dangerous elements that
I notice. It is easy to see how public sympathy runs, in the most
educated classes. There is great sympathy, publicly expressed, for
Captain Boycott and his potatoes; for Miss Bence-Jones, driven to the
degrading necessity of milking the cows; but I have watched the papers
in vain for one word of sympathy with that pale mother of a family, with
her new-born infant in her arms, set upon the roadside the day I was at
Carndonagh. Policemen have been known to shed tears executing the law;
bailiffs have been known to refuse to do their duty, because the
mother's milk was too strong in them; but the public prints express no
word of sympathy.
In the papers where sympathy with the people is conspicuous by its
absence, there will be paragraph after paragraph about prevention of
cruelty to animals. I had the honor of a conversation with a lady of
high birth and long descent, and, as I happen to know, of great kindness
of heart, a landlady much beloved by a grateful and cared-for tenantry.
I remarked to her that justice seemed to me to be rather one-sided:
"There is much difference unavoidably between one class and another, but
there are three places where all classes should stand on an equality--
on a school room floor, in a court of justice, in the house of God." "I
would agree with you so far," said the lady, "that they should be on a
level when they come before God." I am sure there would be no agitation
nor need of coercion if all the landladies and landlords were like this
kind-hearted lady in practice.
Another instance of kindly thought on the part of another landlady. The
famine left many a poor tenant without any stock at all; every creature
was sacrificed to keep in life. This lady bought cows for her tenants
who were in this sad plight. She left the cows with them until a calf
grew up into a milking cow; then the cow was sold to pay the landlady
the money invested. If the cow sold for more than was paid for it the
balance was the tenant's, and he had the cow besides. "Thus," said the
lady to me, "I benefitted them materially at no expense of money, only a
little." This lady, who claims and receives the homage of her tenants
for the ould blood and the ould name, has by these acts of inexpensive
kindness, chained her tenants to her by their hearts. "It's easy to
see," said one to me, "that the ould kindly blood is in her."
There have been many humble petitions for reduction of rent; many have
been granted, more have been refused. The reasons given in one case
were, a ground-rent, a heavy mortgage, an annuity, and legacies. The
question whether one set of tenants was able to meet all these burdens,
not laid on by themselves mind, and live, never was taken into
consideration for a moment.
When I arrived in Ireland, I met with an English gentleman who took a
lively interest in the purpose for which I crossed the sea, namely, to
see what I could see for myself and to hear what I could hear for myself
on the Land Question. He volunteered a piece of advice. "There are two
different parties connected with the Land Question, the landlords and
the tenants. They are widely separated, you cannot pass from one to the
other and receive confidence from both. If you wait upon the landlords
you will get their side of the story; but, then, the tenants will
distrust you and shut their thoughts up from you. If you go among the
tenants you will not find much favor with the landlords. You must choose
which side you will investigate."
Considering this advice good, I determined to go among the people and
from that standpoint to write my opinions of what I saw and heard. I
made up my mind to tell all I could gather of the opinions and
grievances of the poor, knowing that the great are able to defend
themselves if wrongfully accused, and can lay the land question, as they
see it, before the world's readers.
I hear many take the part of the landlords in this manner: "You are
sorry for the tenants, who certainly have some cause of complaint; can
you not spare some sympathy for the landlords who bought these lands at
a high figure, often borrowing the money to buy them and are getting no
return for the money invested?"
Land hunger is a disease that does not attack the tenants alone. The
poor man hungers for land to have the means of living; the rich man
hungers for land because it confers rank, power and position. As soon as
men have realized fortunes in trade they hasten to invest in land. That
is the door by which they hope to enter into the privileged classes. Men
accustomed to "cut things fine," in a mercantile way, are not likely to
except a land purchase from the list of things which are to pay cent.
per cent. The tenant has created a certain amount of prosperity, the new
landlord looks at the present letting value of the land and raises the
rent. This proceeding extinguishes or rather appropriates the Tenant
Right. The landlord thinks he is doing no wrong, for, is he not actually
charging less than Lord So-and-so, or Sir Somebody or other? which is
perhaps very true. All this time the tenant knows he has been robbed of
the result of years, perhaps of generations of hard and continuous
labor. It is impossible to make such a landlord and such a tenant see
eye to eye.
A gentleman asked a lady of Donegal if she would shut out the landlord
from all participation in profits arising from improvements and
consequent increase in the value of the land. I listened for the answer.
"I would give the landlord the profits of all improvements he actually
made by his own outlay; I would not give him the profits arising from
the tenant's labor and means." Now I thought this fair, but the
gentleman did not. He thought that all profit arising from improvements
made by the tenant, should revert to the landlord after a certain time.
I could not think that just.
As a case in point, a brother of Sir Augustus Stewart said to a Ramelton
tenant:
"My brother does not get much profit from the town of Ramelton."
"He gets all he is entitled to, his ground rent, we built the houses
ourselves," was the answer.
These people are safe, having a secure title, not trusting to the Ulster
Custom or the landlords' sense of justice.
I have not been much among landlords. I did sit in the library of a
landlord, and his lady told me of the excessively picturesque poverty
prevailing in some parts, citing as an instance that a baby was nursed
on potatoes bruised in water, the mother having hired out as wet-nurse
to help to pay the rent. There was no cow and no milk. I had a graphic
description of this family, their cabin, their manner of eating. The
mother cannot earn the rent any longer and they are to be evicted. I was
told they were quite able to pay, but trusting to the Land League had
refused.
Naturally what I have seen and heard among the poor of my people, has
influenced my mind. I could not see what I did see and hear what I did
hear of the tyranny wrought by the late Earl of Leitrim, and the present
Captain Dobbing, or walk through the desolation created by Mr. Adair,
without feeling sad, sorry and indignant.