Mr. Thompson exaggerated greatly when he spoke to me of the privations I should be obliged to submit to when sharing the life of a boycotted landlord. In default of the leg of mutton which he had been forced to leave in Miss McCarthy’s rather red hands, rabbits from the park, poultry from the yard, and vegetables from the garden, furnished materials for a dinner that an oldcordon bleu, who had remained faithful to his master even in boycottage, rendered excellent. I said the other day when speaking of the manner in which Irishwomen prepare their husbands’ meals, that I believed they have little taste for cooking; I perhaps spoke rather too hastily. Their taste is not sufficiently developed, but it exists. This is another good side to the national character; I even think that if the nations were to be arranged in the order of their culinary aptitudes, the Irish would take a very honourable rank. Professors affirm that it is to them we owe that excellent combination our fathers appreciated under the name of haricot mutton, and that ignorant practitioners of our epoch callnavarin. It seems that from the earliest ages this dish has been known in Ireland as Irish stew. According to the same authorities, the recipe wasbrought to St. Germain by King James’s cooks, who took refuge in France with their master after the disaster of the Boyne; and that by diffusing it amongst us they acknowledged our country’s hospitality. If this be true, here is a new instance of the consoling truth, that a kind action is never lost.
Perhaps, however, to be absolutely impartial we should temper this praise by some criticism. Irishmen are volatile and little observant. These faults, which injure their politics, have also a regrettable influence over their cooking. Thus the affinities, secret, yet so close, between a duck and turnips seems to have escaped their notice. During my sojourn in Ireland I was able to prove that the country produces numbers of excellent ducks, and an abundance of most succulent turnips. But the palmipede always appeared separated from the vegetable, and I never was lucky enough to find united on the same dish these two elements, although, when combined, nature has rendered them so rich in gastronomic delights.
An organisation so powerful and complicated as the Land League necessarily appears under very different aspects when one studies it in the different centres where it works. At Dublin I saw some of the men who composed the managing body, and they spoke to me about the general direction of the movement. At Kenmare I found it weakened by a combination of circumstances which contributed, if not to paralyse it, at least to prevent it from pushing things to extremities. With Lord Cloncurry and in the neighbourhood of Ballinacourty the situation was more strained already. There the League found favourable soil, its evolution was able to pass through each of its successivephases; I am now, at this moment, in a fully boycotted county. I wished to ascertain the state of feeling amongst a population subject to such a rule, and particularly that of the secondary personages who are charged with carrying out the instructions of the directing committee. Mr. Thompson gave me every facility for this work, by this evening confiding to me as I was leaving him, a thick bundle of documents relative to his boycottage—a bundle which he wished to carry to my room himself, for he was unwilling I should ascend the staircase alone. And, indeed, this staircase is an interesting monument. Four years ago it was being repaired, the workmen had taken off the balustrade on the very day the boycotting was declared. From that time it has been impossible to get it replaced!
It would be very difficult to deny that the movement is Socialistic, if not in its end, at least by the means it employs for its success. Evidently the principal leaders have deliberately made up their minds. But the others, do they know what they are doing? I do not believe so, for here is an extract from a speech pronounced at the great meeting which I alluded to above, the one that assembled when Mr. Thompson sent to the Cork Union to get his grass mown.
“What the Land League requires,” said the orator, “is to succeed in making the State dispossess the landlords in consideration of a fair indemnity, in order that afterwards the State may give the land to the tenants, making them repay the advances and the interest by means of successive annuities. Some people say that acting in this way is Socialism, but the Irish protest against such accusations. If we were Socialists,we should agree with Gambetta, that faithless man who spoke against us, when, throughout Europe, we had only friends. We should agree with the Parisian communists! those wretches who know neither justice nor virtue, who dyed their hands with the blood of an archbishop! (prolonged groans!) who were not ashamed to destroy the monument erected to celebrate their fathers’ victories! We have no more sympathy for them than they have for us! (Immense acclamations.) No! we are not Socialists because we demand the dispossession of the landlords! If this idea were Socialistic, it would not be approved of by the newspaper published under the shadow of the Vatican.”
The speaker was Father McCarthy, the parish priest of a neighbouring village; but now here are the expressions of one of his colleagues, Father Sheehy:—
“Have not all these people, the Thompsons, the X——s, retained all the best land of the country for already too long a time, my friends? And what is left for all of you?—the right to go and die of hunger in the workhouse.
“The office in which Mr. Thompson receives his slaves resembles a prison.
“He speaks to his tenants through his office-wicket, for he is a coward who has not courage to look them in the face.”
Now it is Mr. W. H. O’Sullivan’s turn. Mr. O’Sullivan is the spirit-dealer, the member of Parliament whom we met to-day.
“I am going to read you some clauses from the lease they are trying to impose upon some of the tenants in the neighbourhood. This is a very interesting document, judge for yourselves:
“First, it is stipulated that the tenant cannot plough either of his fields without the landlord’s written permission. (Groans.) It then says that each year the farmer must lay down in grass a certain portion of the land which is given him in plough. (Violent groans.) The next clause forbids the tenant to sell his straw or hay. Everything should be consumed on the farm. (Explosion of murmurs.) Then come the following items [bonds]:—The tenant must preserve all the buildings given to him in their present condition, he is forbidden to let any of the outbuildings as dwelling-houses; he must keep and give them up in good repair; lastly, the taxes are all to be paid by him.” (Prolonged murmurs, cries, and howls.)
Oh! French landowners, unlucky brethren! Who amongst you, on consulting his lease, will not find, one after the other, all these clauses? When you discuss them with your tenants, does conscience warn you that you are committing an infamous act? I am a little reassured on the point, because for the last three or four years, the Government, which is the very essence of morality, since it is Republican, sends us every summer agricultural professors, who recommend us to transform all our lands into meadows.
After the meeting, Fathers McCarthy and McSheehy probably went home with Mr. O’Sullivan, and, whilst taking a glass of something on this honourable merchant’s counter, the three orators mutually congratulated themselves on their success. They had reason to do so in some respects. As rhetorical amplifications their speeches were pretty good. Only when they assert that they have nothing in common with the Socialists, is itwise to tell two or three thousand peasants, all more or less doing badly in money matters, that their poverty is the result of Mr. Thompson and others detaining for such a long time the land that ought to be given to them?
I have only to continue reading the bundle to ascertain the effect produced. The newspaper cuttings are arranged in chronological order; unfortunately, they are not all dated. I cannot, therefore, give the dates quite precisely, but evidently very little time had elapsed between this meeting and the facts stated here.
This is what first happened at New Pallas. There is a farm about half a mile from the railway station, from which a man named Bourke had been sent away. The landlord could not find a new tenant; but since, every night, men ravaged his land, he demanded protection from the police. The authorities decided that they would erect a block-house, plated with sheet-iron, in which they could place a permanent garrison of five constables. The farm buildings were not sufficiently strong for their security.
The sheet-iron arrived at the station, but it was impossible to get it carried to the farm; no one in the country would undertake to do it. It was decided to obtain an artillery waggon from Dublin, and the accounts which reached the authorities denoted so much popular excitement that it appeared necessary to send an escort also. Half a battery of artillery started for the estate; a squadron of the 7th Hussars, one hundred and fifty men of the 9th Foot, and a detachment of constables, brought the effective total to five hundred men. They all met at the station after aconvergent movement, which did great credit to the military skill of the chief of the expedition, and succeeded in transporting an iron hut, that filled one cart, five-eighths of a mile! The Government newspapers loudly congratulated themselves on the success of the operation.
During this time a permanent garrison was established at Mr. Thompson’s. It at first consisted of seventy-five men, but after some time the numbers were reduced. They were not too much bored, for they had plenty to do. Every morning, four men and one corporal, all well armed, were ordered on duty to escort the milkmaid when she went to milk the cows. The detachment which proceeded to the station for letters and parcels, was commanded by a sergeant, and flanked the whole way. It was exactly like a besieged town. Still, the Land League sentinels never left the gate, and on their side watched with the greatest vigilance. Nevertheless, once or twice the blockade was run. A reporter of theDaily News, who came expressly from England to keep the readers of his paper well informed about the operations of the siege, thus describes it:—
“December 25th, Christmas Day.—Yesterday evening, great excitement. Darkness had fallen upon us, when the dogs commenced to bark, and suddenly we saw a woman mysteriously issue from a clump of trees and approach the door, marching so softly that one might have fancied her a ghost! She carried hidden beneath her shawl an enormous Christmas cake, still hot, which a kind neighbour had sent us, but, naturally, I must not mention his name. We had obtained this windfall through his noticing, as he passed the gate, that thesentinels’ watch was not nearly so keen as usual thanks, probably, to the numerous libations they had indulged in whilst celebrating the festival. He at once took advantage of the fact to entrust this brave little woman with the commission she so skilfully executed. I hope she was not seen during her retreat, for neither she nor her husband would then be able to remain in the country.”
It was on Christmas Day, 1880, that theDaily Newsreporter wrote this letter. From the 13th July, 1886 the Land League has ceased placing sentinels at Mr. Thompson’s gate, but the boycotting is still strong enough to prevent Miss McCarthy from selling him a leg of mutton. There is an improvement, but the improvement progresses very slowly.
I do not only find newspaper cuttings in the bundle. It also contains a file of letters; they are all signed “Captain Moonlight.” But this is a generic name, for the letters evidently come from different people. The Irish revolutionists are not revolutionists like ours. With us every generation insists on working in its own way. In Ireland, on the contrary, they are careful to conform exactly to the old customs. The stock-in-trade of accessories of every conspiracy that respects itself still includes the mask, the dagger, and the blunderbuss which are completely out of fashion amongst us since the time of theCarbonariof the Restoration. Anonymous letters are one of their dearest traditions. Landowners are continually receiving them. They invariably enumerate the different measures which will be adopted to hasten the unfortunate recipient’s departure from this life. It is imperative that a little explanatorydrawing should accompany the text, because they must guard against the possibility of the victim being illiterate. This necessity, imposed by custom, is evidently embarrassing even to the conspirators. It is a stumbling-block to those Captains “Moonlight” who have no talent for drawing. One of Mr. Thompson’s correspondents had, however, found an ingenious method of evading the difficulty. Here is a description of one of these documents. I am looking at it while I write:
At the head of the sheet of paper there is a drawing belonging to thatnaïveschool which amongst us is especially reserved for illustrating Latin dictionaries withpierrot pendu(hanging clowns). However, we can easily distinguish that the first drawing represents a gun, with its bayonet. But below there is a combination of strokes and blots which it is absolutely impossible to make anything of. Happily the artist, obeying a sentiment of praiseworthy modesty, and understanding the deficiency of his talent, has put an explanatory note at the side of each vignette. By the side of the first there is in parentheses “gun;” at the right of the second, “bombshell.” The text at least, in default of other merit, had that of conciseness. It only consisted of two lines—
“Beware of the above, lads!Ireland for the Irish!”
“Beware of the above, lads!Ireland for the Irish!”
“Beware of the above, lads!Ireland for the Irish!”
“Beware of the above, lads!
Ireland for the Irish!”
The author was probably proud of his work. However, we must own that the general effect would be better if the drawings were more intelligible. If I had the honour of being admitted into the councils of the LandLeague I should suggest that instead of relying upon the artistic sense of inferior agents, they should distribute amongst them papers already engraved with pictures of coffins, cross-bones, guns, gibbets, and bombshells, since they appear to be the necessary accessories of a style of literature from which the League evidently expects great results, since it encourages it so much.
CONCLUSION.
Here I must end these extracts from my travelling diary. Of what use could it be to continue noting day by day all that I saw in Ireland? Besides, the inquiry, summary as it is, to which I devoted myself, has left me with an impression of profound melancholy. Every one knows the traps in which one sees the captive mice beating against the wire that ornaments one of the extremities, and in their desperate efforts to obtain their freedom they thrust and wound themselves against the bars of their cage. On this side they see the light; here they fancy they have the best chance of escape. They can never succeed, for the door lies exactly at the other end.
The poor Irish—so interesting, so sympathetic—are a little like them. They, too, are exhausting their strength in despairing efforts to escape from a misery that is only too real; but for them, too, the way out is not on the side where they are seeking it.
When we see, on one hand, the great fermentation going on in the lower classes of the population, and, on the other, the Government utterly incapable of restoringorder, one is tempted to believe that a bloody revolution is about to break out. This seems to be the only logical solution which the situation admits of. Evidently, so they say, the heads of this powerful organisation which binds the whole country, wish to break out; they form their lists and keep their followers in working order. The daily skirmishes which one hears perpetually discussed can have but that end; they keep the hand in whilst waiting for action. As soon as a favourable opportunity offers, they will call the whole population of five million souls to arms; they are only waiting for the signal. An immense popular uprising will take place immediately, and if the English rule is to be re-established in the country, it will only be after a long and bloody war.
This reasoning appears well founded, because in Greece, in Poland, and everywhere that a conquering people have been unable to assimilate with the conquered, the same results have always followed. I am, however, quite convinced that it is absolutely false as regards Ireland. In every son of Erin there is the making of a conspirator. At all times conspiracy has been an element where they have been as much at their ease as fish in water. But amongst them a conspirator finds great difficulty in transforming himself into a rebel. Why is this? I cannot tell. It is certainly not for want of courage. As soldiers, the Irish have no need to prove their abilities. And yet we have only to consult their national history to perceive that of all the rebellions they have attempted not one has been serious. Towards the end of the last century, when Brittany and Vendée rose against the Republic, they had no resources of any kind, and they had to deal with a military powerthat had routed all the armies in Europe. Six months later they placed 80,000 men in the field, who, at first armed with sticks, used them with such effect that at the end of a few days they were all armed with guns taken from their enemies. For some years they held in check all the forces that were sent against them. Towards the same date the Irish made several attempts at insurrection. One of them was even aided by a detachment of French troops being landed. The English sent very insignificant troops to oppose them. Yet after a few days they had overcome the insurgents without the latter being able to form a military force capable of resisting one battalion of infantry in the open field. If the Irish showed themselves so powerless when circumstances were all in their favour, what chance of success have they now?
But in order that a nation should throw itself headlong into a rebellion of this kind, it must have a definite object in view. Greece and Poland were determined to regain their independence, and knew what they would do with this independence if they succeeded in winning it. Now, unfortunately, it is very different with the Irish. Their political men are quite aware of the facts of the case. Independent Ireland is an impossibility.
First of all, whilst England possesses a soldier or a crown she will never consent to the separation. It is a question of life or death for her. Imagine a war with France and Ireland allied, what would become of her?
But there is another reason, and this is an economic one, why the Irish themselves will never push matters to extremities. They know perfectly well that the day after their independence was acknowledged, they musteither conquer England or else throw themselves upon her mercy. How could they support a separate State? They would require money to live with, and this money can only be found by selling their produce. Now if the English can buy the cattle, pigs and butter they require from all parts of the globe, the Irish themselves can only sell the cattle, pigs, and butter, which are their sole produce, in England; for they could hardly aspire to sending their pigs to Chicago or their butter to Isigny. They would be absolutely at England’s mercy.
As long therefore as they cannot transport their country some hundred miles further west, the Irish must be content and resign themselves to the fact that Ireland can only be an appendage to England. Equality between the two countries cannot exist. If the Irish succeeded in conquering England the seat of government might be at Dublin; the greater part of the taxes paid by the English would be spent there, in the same way that a large portion of Irish taxes are now spent in London. But until they feel strong enough to bring this great enterprise to a successful issue, they must bear their share of a situation which, after all, is not worse than that of the inhabitants of Bordeaux or Dijon, whose taxes are in a great measure spent in Paris.
It may be objected that without going as far as actual separation, which, in fact, no one asks for, because it is manifestly out of the question, they may ask, as Mr. Gladstone does, for a relative separation.
I have already stated at some length and several times in the course of this work, the reasons which lead me to believe that even with this amelioration a separation would be disastrous for Ireland; it would result in allcapital being withdrawn from Ireland, for it is now almost exclusively in English hands.
In my opinion Mr. Gladstone has been very wrong in encouraging the Irish to persevere in this absolutely false idea, that all their misfortunes are due to political causes, whilst in reality the terrible crisis they are passing through is only a result of the economic evolution which is taking place all over the world.
The burning question in this country which dominates every other is the question of land ownership. Ireland is a country of small cultivators. Let us first examine the question on the theoretical side.
Originally in all societies the land belonged to whoever would cultivate and enclose it; since it had no value no one enclosed more than he could cultivate himself, that is, very little, for their implements were very primitive. Small estates were therefore formed by the mere force of circumstances. In some countries, in France for instance, at least in a considerable portion of the territory, small estates have been preserved to the present time. This is very fortunate, for, from a social point of view, it is the most perfect system, and wherever it is possible to uphold it by law no hesitation should be shown about doing so.
Unfortunately from an economic point of view the system is utterly condemned. Agriculture is an industry like any other—one is always obliged to repeat this fact, because when one alludes to it this evident truth always seems forgotten. Now, in the present day, all industries are concentrated. Factories diminish in number but increase in importance. Those who cannot or will not submit to this necessity, disappear. A farm is a factory of meat and corn. Now, if all other things were equal, alarge farm would always produce more economically than a small one, because, as a rule, its expenses are less, and it has a more perfect apparatus for doing the necessary work. The smaller ones must therefore disappear.
And they are disappearing everywhere, even amongst us. In my opinion this is not even doubtful. The other day M. Yves Guyot asserted it in the Chamber of Deputies. He was right; property in France is becoming concentrated; we have but to look round us to be convinced of the fact. I may be answered that according to the returns of the tax-collectors the number of properties does not seem to be decreasing. This argument is not worth anything. How many landowners are there possessing property in fifteen or twenty communes? How many are there who, having by degrees bought ten or twelve lots in the same commune, ever gave themselves the trouble of uniting them in one return? The truth is that in all agricultural countries the peasants have ceased to buy land, and they are selling it wherever they find a great landowner willing to buy it. I, of course, except the vine districts from this statement.
The same phenomenon is noticeable in America, and still more conspicuously. The Government does everything in its power to form and maintain small properties; it distributes land to the emigrants by lots of 160 acres, forbidding them to sell it under five years. As soon as the five years are over the emigrants hasten to sell their lands, which are never seriously cultivated until twenty or forty lots are united in the same hands. Every American economist observes this tendency; it is universal. Wherever the laws do not intervene large estates are rapidly absorbing the smaller ones, becausethe small ones cannot compete with the large, and if the laws intervene they are only efficacious in diminishing production. Except in a few privileged countries small farms must therefore disappear. Can Ireland boast of being one of the fortunate exceptions? Most evidently not! Then why create small farms in Ireland? or rather, since they already exist with all their drawbacks, why endeavour to maintain them by founding small estates, as the Land League is trying to do? It is aiming at impossibilities, for they can only succeed by destroying steamers, railways, and agricultural machinery all over the world.
We will now resume the discussion at the point where we left it. I said that only two systems of agriculture are known—the small and the great. Facility of transport and the perfection we have reached in agricultural tools have rendered small cultivation impossible nearly everywhere. Only the great remains. Let us now see under what conditions it is working. It requires great capital; besides, it evidently, like every other industry, has more chance of success when it is directed by competent men. Now the most competent men not being always those who have the most capital, the countries where agriculture would flourish best would be those, of course if all other things were equal, where a combination had been discovered which placed large capital at the disposal of the most competent men—those, to use a modern expression, where agricultural credit would be the best organised.
This question has attracted great attention. It is very difficult to solve, because no combination can be discovered which ensures that the capital directed into agricultural channels would find sufficient securities andinterest. But the real reason is that agriculture is already burdened with a first mortgage, for from time immemorial it has had recourse to credit, and if it has been able to struggle on until these latter times in spite of all the charges which crush it in countries belonging to the old civilisation, it is because there is an institution which has provided it with capital in such abundance and at such low rates of interest, that naturally no other organisation of agricultural credit can live by making needless repetition of its arrangements; this institution is rent. If it has so many detractors in the present day, it is because the people believe it to be of feudal origin, and above all because they do not consider the conditions under which it is working, nor the fate of agriculturists in countries where renting land is little or never practised.
Some weeks ago I was in a smoking compartment of the express train which goes from Chicago to New York. It was just at the time when Mr. Henry George, the celebrated Socialist, had offered himself as candidate for the New York mayoralty. The news had produced a great impression all over the United States. Mr. George, has, in fact, used his talent as a writer, which is really very great, for the diffusion of the most advanced opinions. He considers that since the soil has no value except through the labour that is spent upon it all the fruit of the soil should return to the labourer, the rent of the land, if there is one, being acquired as a right from the State. His system therefore leads to the absolute suppression of landed property, since the owner would soon tire of being only cashier to the State.
One of our travelling companions, a barrister from Minneapolis, commenced to talk. From his first wordsit was easy to see that we were listening to an ardent partisan of Mr. George’s doctrines.
“Gentlemen,” said he, as he ended a long speech intended to celebrate the advantages of Socialism, “you know how all European nations are now situated. In England, in a great part of France, and particularly in Ireland, unfortunate wretches work like slaves to win harvests from the earth, harvests of which they are only allowed to retain just the amount absolutely necessary to keep them from dying of starvation, all the rest goes to maintain in idleness people who have only had the trouble of being born. It is private estates that have caused it all. It is because the earth, the common property of all mankind, has been unjustly monopolised by a few, that these infamous things have taken place. You will tell me that these things are only seen in Europe amongst nations of backward civilisation, but these private estates also exist amongst us, and if we do not guard against it we shall also feel the fatal consequences of the system here. Our agriculturists are already in the hands of capitalists, who will now only advance them money at fabulous interest.”
I had just finished my cigar, and thought that a discussion with the good man might be amusing.
“Excuse me,” I commenced, interrupting him, “in which State do you live then?”
“In Minnesota. But what is taking place in Minnesota is taking place in the other States too.”
“And what interest did you say agriculturists are obliged to pay for loans in these districts?”
“At one and a-half at least, and generally at two, and even at three, per cent per month.”
“Quite right! I know that. Now that wheat is only worth fifty cents the bushel the farmers make no profits; the capitalists feeling their money is in danger will no longer lend without high interest; but then, why do the farmers require money?”
“To build their houses, to drain, irrigate and plant, in fact, to put the land into order that the State gives them.”
“That is exactly what I wished to make you say. The State gives the land gratis: it is inalienable. Besides, in its present condition it is valueless. Then what security has the capitalist? In our country, land is not given gratuitously; but there are people who take, or who have taken, the trouble to drain it, to make fences, to build outhouses, and who then, not having the necessary aptitude for cultivating it, put the whole property into the hands of a professional farmer, on condition of receiving a very moderate rent in proportion to the amount of capital tied up in it. Mr. George pretends that it is the land that the landlord lets to his farmer. This is absolutely false. Suppose an earthquake or some other cataclysm destroyed one of our old French farms, demolished the buildings, effaced every trace of fence, plantation, farm roads, and drainage—forced the land, in fact, to return again to the state it was in two thousand years ago, in the time of the Druids, or to the condition of the land given gratuitously by your State to the emigrants in this country—I assert that to efface all the results of this disaster, such large sums must be spent that whatever rent might be asked for, even under the most favourable circumstances, that rent would only produce a nominal interest on the capital. It is thennot the soil that I let, but the result of the work and the capital that I and my predecessors have expended. I am in exactly the same position as the capitalist in Minnesota. I advance money to a professional farmer to enable him to earn his living by cultivating the land; only since I am owner of the land the farmer cannot carry off my security; I have, therefore, a good guarantee, I can be satisfied with a very small interest, which I could not be if I lived in Minnesota.
“One thing is certain, that owing to this association between capitalist and cultivator, which is called tenant farming, a farmer amongst us can retain as floating capital all his available money, on which he can make eight or ten per cent., whilst he only pays three or four per cent., and often less, for the sum, usually much greater, that the landlord places at his disposal in the form of buildings and fittings up of every kind. With our system, a labourer therefore obtains money at three per cent. per annum, with yours, they must pay three per cent. per month. And you think that we are the backward nation! Allow me, dear sir, to return the compliment.”
I never saw faces more astonished than those of fifteen or twenty Yankees who listened to me, seated in arm-chairs, their feet in the air. Then happened one of those incidents that appear so odd, and which, however, are so common now that every one travels. A young man, whom I had not noticed, approached me from the end of the compartment.
“Sir,” he said, “for the last few minutes I seem to recognise you. Did you not speak in public last year at Tergnier upon the subject you have just been explaining?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. I was there. I am Irish; I had just finished my studies at Juilly, and I had been passing my holidays with the father of one of my comrades, who was a farmer in the neighbourhood. Now I live with my father, who is an architect at Saint Paul, Minnesota. It therefore happens that I am well acquainted with the situation in both the countries we are discussing, and allow me to say that I am certain you are perfectly right.”
The young man’s intervention secured a complete triumph for me. I was particularly pleased, because Mr. George’s partisan himself at once said, in the most pleasant way:
“Well, stranger, I own I never thought of looking at the question from that point of view. I don’t own myself beaten yet, but I’m shaken.”
In justice to the Americans, I must own that they always display the most perfect courtesy and good faith in these discussions.
I am convinced that the thesis I maintain is perfectly correct. If European agriculture, crushed with taxes and burdens of all kinds, has been able to struggle for so long against the competition of new countries, it is simply owing to the abundance of capital placed at its service by the system of renting the land. Particularly now that the struggle, if it is possible at all, is only possible through the aid of large sums of money, it is the worst of follies to believe that in breaking the tie that binds the capitalist and the farmer so closely together, they can ameliorate the situation. This is true of Ireland more than of anywhere else.
This, however, is the aim that the National Leagueproposes to itself. The most curious thing is that, in the end, their success will, in reality, only benefit the landlords.
What, in fact, is now passing all over Europe? Land has lost nearly all its value. The future is so dark that in France, as everywhere else, one cannot find one landowner in a hundred who would not be too happy, if not to sell all that he possesses, at least to ease his position in a great degree, if he could obtain a reasonable price for his land. And this is the time that the League chooses to propose dispossessing the landlords by giving them sums of money equal to their actual income, multiplied at least by fourteen, at most by twenty. How can they procure the necessary money for such an operation, that is to say, several milliards? By borrowing. If the Irish Budget is completely distinct from that of the metropolis, and consequently the moneylenders know that they cannot rely upon England’s guarantee, I doubt whether they will display much eagerness. However, let us admit that this immense undertaking may succeed. What would be the result?
The fifteen or twenty thousand present landowners, of whom a great number are, until now, only retained in the country through the difficulty of leaving it, would hasten to emigrate at once; they would, therefore, no longer pay one penny of the old taxes, nor of the new taxes, which the Government would be forced to raise to meet the interest of the loan. From landowners, they would have all become fund-holders; instead of having the trouble of collecting rents that are very irregularly paid, they would be relieved by the State—which would simply have substituted itself for them—from all these expenses and all this annoyance.
The operation would certainly be most advantageous to them. But, I ask myself, what would the farmer gain when he was obliged to pay the tax-gatherer probably more than he now pays the agent? If one could foresee, in the near future, a great increase in the produce of the earth, one could understand their desire to become landowners, because they would benefit by this increase, whilst with the present arrangement it would be promptly followed by a rise in the rents. But, on the contrary, everything indicates that the depreciation in the price of land is far from having reached its lowest point.
They have therefore, in my opinion, everything to gain by remaining tenant farmers. Now, is it true that they have as much reason to complain of their landlords as they pretend? On that subject, too, I think there is a good deal to be said. Let us proceed as we have done before, and first examine the question from a theoretical point of view.
When we examine these things closely, we find that tenant farming has existed from the most distant times. It was the first application of the fertile principle of the division of labour. Some worked, whilst others fought to protect them. Formerly, the landowners were called lords, or seigneurs, and the farmers vassals; but, in reality, it was always an association between capital and labour with a view to the cultivation of the land. Only the difference of customs at that date caused the mutual obligations imposed upon each party to be much more numerous than they are now. For instance, the lord not only provided the land and the buildings, he was also forced to promise to provide as far as possible the security, without which the vassal’s enjoymentof them would only be illusory. On the other hand, the vassal, besides his dues, also promised his personal service. A farmer therefore gained some advantage by taking lands in a seigneurie where they were dearly let, but where he hoped to dwell in more security than elsewhere. But, as compensation, the lord of the manor must often have consented to great diminutions in favour of a tenant who seemed likely to render, when required, good service as a soldier.
With the exception of a few trifling differences, the same arrangements were made all over Europe, in Ireland as elsewhere. When an Irish lord started for the crusades, or simply to make war upon one of his neighbours, he selected those of his vassals whom he wished to accompany him. If one of them refused, I fancy that no time was lost before “evicting,” if not before hanging him; and, according to the ideas of the period, he only received what he merited, since he had failed in one of the obligations imposed upon him by his lease. Customs have changed. Certain obligations, necessitated by the social state which then existed, have now ceased to be requisite. A landlord no longer guarantees his tenants personal safety. The police are charged with the duty. And in the same way a young Irish captain, whose regiment was ordered, three or four years ago, to go and fight Arabi Pasha, never thought of asking his tenants to reinforce his company if the effective total were incomplete. He contented himself with sending a recruiting sergeant to seek for the men he required in the neighbouring taverns, and he would most probably have even given him a smart reprimand had he enlisted one of his tenants’ sons. The farmers then owe absolutely nothing to their landlordsexcept the obligations which are freely discussed between them when the lease is signed, and very clearly stated in its clauses. They are so perfectly aware of their independence that they treat as tyrants those landlords who, at election times, claim to nominate a candidate whose opinions do not please them.
Would they like to return to the old customs? Evidently not. They wish that to be an impossibility. Then, if landlords and tenants no longer have, and never can have again, in strict law, any connection between them except that which, in all business, links the buyer and seller, what do these recriminations against the landlords, that now form the foundation of Irish literature, mean? The sole duty of a buyer is to be honest about the quality of the merchandise he offers for sale. Can a Kerry farmer pretend that where he leases seventy-five acres of peaty meadow, he expects to reap a harvest of pineapples? The truth is, that he knows the land quite as well as the landlord, perhaps even better. If he pays too much for it he can only blame himself and the competition of the other farmers. But it is absurd to reproach the landlord because prices are exaggerated.
If one considers the question from a strictly legal point of view, one cannot then even discuss the Irish tenants’ complaints, for they have no foundation.
But the relations of men with each other cannot be only based upon strictly legal rights. There is a sentiment of a higher order, which some call charity and others humanity, and which must also be taken into account. Therefore, a really honourable man would never take advantage of the circumstances that hadplaced another at his mercy in order to force him to accept a ruinous bargain. Have the majority of Irish landlords profited by the competition to raise their rents unreasonably, as they are so often reproached with doing?
It is naturally impossible to answer this question in a general way. When we reflect on the enormous and regular increase in the price of meat which has characterised the last fifteen or twenty years, and which, until a quite recent date, was apparently unlimited, we must maintain, like the Irish landlords still do, that the rents have not been excessively high. It must be remembered that Irish leases are much longer than our own. They usually include three lives; that is to say, that the landlord renounces the right to raise the rent until the death of the would-be tenant’s grandson. It was therefore quite natural that, remembering the rise in prices, by which he had not profited, the landlord should exact a rent which might in some cases be exaggerated, in consideration of current prices, but which would have seemed reasonable had the rise continued. The misfortune is that prices have fallen, and therefore a reduction of rent is absolutely necessary.
But it is quite certain that until these last few years the farmers were doing well. The proof is, that when for some reason or other they wished to retire, they always managed to sell their leases, and sometimes to sell them very dearly. And even now they find buyers. I was given numerous instances of this fact. Mr. Henry George, the Socialist of whom I have already spoken, himself acknowledged, that “Irish land is generally let below the price that the landlords could obtain if it were put up to auction and they consentedto let it to the highest bidder without regard to persons.” He even quoted an article in theNineteenth Century, in which a well-known Irish economist, Miss O’Brien, states that the sub-tenants generally pay the leaseholders twice the amount for the land that the latter give to the landlords. This fact established, we must still acknowledge that certain landlords, particularly those who seek to sell, have sometimes profited, at a moment when the majority of the leases were drawing to a close, by suddenly raising the rents in a formidable manner. This transaction has been carried out by speculators or by creditors on mortgage, who have taken possession. It has rarely been done by hereditary landowners. However, there is one well-known man who is accused of having, with the aid of one of his brothers, doubled in one year all the rents on an estate which he had just inherited, and of having immediately sold it to an English manufacturer for a price based on the new rental. This man is Mr. Parnell, the chief of the Land League. Knowing the usual inaccuracy of accusations inspired by political passions, I was much inclined to doubt the truth of this one. However, the incident has been vouched for by so many of Mr. Parnell’s neighbours, so many details respecting it have been quoted to me, that it appears difficult to believe that there is not some foundation for it.
When we examine facts closely we find then that in nine cases out of ten, when an unfortunate man is spoken of as rack-rented to death, it is of a sub-tenant they are speaking, not of a farmer. The Irish farmer, on whose fate so much pity is wasted, is in reality more often than not a frightful jobber; and it would be well to remember that, in spite of all the laws that are madeto prevent it, in spite of the formal clauses contained in most of the leases, there are very few farmers who do not contrive by different combinations, to find five or six poor fellows who give themselves up to him, bound hand and foot, so great is their desire to have a few acres of bad land. This is the case of a man whose cabin I visited at Derrygariff; and there are in Ireland two or three hundred thousand men who are in the same position.
When a farmer thinks of hiring a farm he should always, before closing the agreement, consider the following argument: “If my wife, my children, and I, placed ourselves in service our united salaries would amount, for instance, to a sum of 80l.Besides, I have money invested which brings me in another 40l.If I take a farm, it is evidently not in order that I should lose money by it. It must therefore bring me in a minimum of 120l., that is to say, the difference between the sum I can reasonably draw from it, in good and bad years, and the rent I have to pay, must amount to more than 120l., since in this difference will lie my profits. I must therefore estimate as exactly as possible what the average of this income will be, and when once I know it I shall be able to judge what I can offer the landlord, who on his side should make an analogous calculation. If his claim is so high that I cannot hope to regain the 120l.per annum that represent my work and the interest of my capital, I will leave him his farm and search for another!”
Things would go better if every one reasoned in this way. The Irish landlords would not let their farms too dearly, for the excellent reason that no one would givethem more than they are worth, and the tenants would not insist upon keeping seven or eight of their children and their families on a farm already too small for themselves. As for those who are unable to obtain a farm, they would not seek a sub-tenancy without any guarantee of tenure and for which they pay two or three pounds per acre, while the farmer only pays one pound to his landlord—when he pays him at all. Only fathers will not be separated from their children; others will not resign themselves to emigration; the population is constantly increasing and the number of farms is rather diminishing, so, whilst the number of those who wish for land augments, it is quite natural that prices rise.
How can Mr. Gladstone and the Land League seriously believe that they can remedy this state of things by political or legislative measures? One proof that the laws can do nothing for it is that there is no country in the world where the law is already so favourable to the tenant. It can never hold the balance equal between him and the landlord. Thus, even if there is a lease, the tenant has always the right of leaving his farm, by giving six months’ notice in advance, and yet he cannot be sent away from it. That is to say that he profits by all the good luck, without any of the risks of his bargain. A law was passed five or six years ago which entails still more extraordinary consequences. It gives the tenant the right to undertake, on his farm, under pretence of improvements, any work he chooses to attempt, and imposes upon the landlord the obligation to repay him the whole value, if at the end of the lease, he will not renew it at the same rent, or he wishes to send away the tenant. Some years ago one of my acquaintances let a field situated near thetown, to a butcher in Limerick. The lease formally stipulated that the field was to be retained in grass. But it happened that through the increase of population, the town extended on that side. The butcher determined to build a house in the field, which would bring him a good profit. To get rid of him now, it is necessary to pay him for this house, and yet his rent cannot be raised! One might just as well have given the butcher the right of expropriation.
The Irish are always comparing their fate with that of Americans. I had the curiosity to inquire what the American law could be on the subject of rent. I commenced by making inquiries from several well-informed persons, and then by their advice I bought a small book, to which I would refer every one who wishes to be really edified,Every Man his Own Lawyer.
The results of these inquiries rather astonished me. In America there is no law that restricts the landlord’s rights. This is what Mr. George says on this subject—I like to quote him, because he is not suspected of sympathy for the social arrangements which prevail in Europe:—
“We must acknowledge that an aristocracy like that of the Irish landlords has the virtues as well as the vices peculiar to it. In their transactions its members often allow themselves to be influenced by considerations that would be valueless in the eyes of ordinary business men. An American who had land to let would only think of obtaining the highest possible rent. If he were told that humanity exacted that he should let it below the price he hoped to obtain, he would consider the proposal as strange as if his exchangeagent proposed to him to sell stock below the current price.”
Mr. Buckle, who has interested himself in these questions, considers that the rent in Ireland generally equals one-fourth of the gross produce. In California a great deal of the land is let for one-third of the gross produce, sometimes even at one-half. In the north-west of the United States the system of rent is definitively extended—the land is let for half the produce.
It is quite certain that if Ireland became an American State, the fate of Irish farmers would be infinitely more precarious than it now is. The political question has then a very minor influence in reality. The Irish population has been for a long time more miserable than the populations of other European countries, because in proportion to the resources of the country, it has always been much too numerous. And this disproportion between the number of the population and the resources which the country can provide, tends to become greater as the expenses necessitated by an ever-advancing civilisation become more considerable. A larger portion of these resources must be withdrawn to meet the general outlay. In the time of Fin M’Coul and the other Irish kings, there were, it is said, more inhabitants,[5]and there were certainly more cattle than there now are; but at that time the cattle in the country were only used to feed the inhabitants, while now, out of every ten oxen there is one that must be sold to pay the constabulary, another to pay the schoolmasters, a third to support the navy, and so on, so that,in fact, only two or three are left as food for the inhabitants. This is no longer enough, and consequently the Irish are dying of hunger.
There are but two means of restoring the equilibrium. Increase the number of cattle. To do this, it is necessary to improve and drain the pasturage, and the landowners are open to reproach for not having done more in this direction; this is the most serious reproach that can be made of them; but we must acknowledge that whatever they may do the result could not materially influence the general situation. This can only be seriously ameliorated by a great diminution of the population. We feel some repugnance at this solution of the difficulty. But still, we have only to consult history to be convinced that from the earliest ages there have always been nations upon whom it was imposed.
The Germans threw themselves upon the Roman Empire because they had not enough to eat at home; it was hunger that drove the Normans to France. A hundred years ago the Scottish Highlanders literally died of starvation; they were conveyed in a body to Canada, where many of them have acquired large fortunes. It is unquestionable that they suffer much less in Ireland since they have only five million inhabitants instead of nine. However, they still suffer there, and it is because Ireland, in its present economic condition, cannot feed more than two or three million people, perhaps less.
But she could assuredly retain more if it were possible to create some industry. Unfortunately this seems very difficult. I am convinced that we are destined to see, in a very near future, a large numberof industries removed: all those dealing with materials that are neither produced nor consumed in the country, that is to say, the only ones which are possible in Ireland, which does not produce any raw material, and where the consumption is always very small. I believe that many of these industries, if not all, will be forcibly transported to other localities than those where they are now working, and that in choosing these localities the owners will be guided in a great measure by climatic considerations. Workmen of all countries evidently aspire to an equality of enjoyment. On the other hand, the facility of transport, the amalgamation of working apparatus, resulting from the diffusion of capital, impose upon masters the levelling of salaries. Now with equal salaries, men suffer more in cold damp climates than in dry warm ones. I add that they work less. This fact is well known in the French navy, for a ship built or repaired in Brest costs infinitely more than if the same work had been executed in the dockyards at Toulon. In Ireland, a workman must always spend more for his food, his firing, and the maintenance of his family, than if he lived in France or America. The workman’s associations, which are now multiplying on all sides, will soon reveal this disadvantage to him; he will demand an increase of salary and ruin his master.
I have therefore little faith in the resurrection of Irish industries. But what is impossible for private enterprise may be done by Government. I even think it may be considered a Government duty. The Irish landowners are reproached for their absenteeism, that is, for the habit of spending their income outside the country. If there is a landowner guilty of absenteeismit is certainly the Government. For instance, the Irish coast is broken by a series of roads, each finer than the other. If England were to suppress one of her Channel arsenals and re-establish it in Ireland, the transfer would certainly cost her some money. But the money would be well spent, for it would enable some thousands of families to remain in the country, instead of being forced to expatriate themselves before long.
If the wish to obliterate the odious memories of the last century is not strong enough to induce England to engage in this task, there is another consideration which should make her reflect. Her power is wholly based on her colonial empire. Until now she has been able, without too much difficulty, to govern by force one hundred and fifty million Indians, and maintain the colonies of her own people in a state of political guardianship—Australia, New Zealand, and Canada. If she had not enough men to keep up the effective total of the sixty or eighty regiments that garrison India she would soon be driven from the country. The white population of the other colonies doubles itself every eight or ten years. When they have two or three times more inhabitants than the metropolis, is it probable that the legislative supremacy of the latter will be long maintained? It is therefore of vital importance to England to retain in Great Britain the largest population it can possibly support, and on this account the emigration of two or three million Irish would be a great misfortune for her.
In the first part of this study I related a few incidents of the crisis which now rages in Ireland. How will this crisis end? I believe in the most simple way in the world. The adoption of Mr. Gladstone’s Bill wouldonly have made things worse. The tenants would perhaps have imagined that they derived some advantage from it at first; but, as I have said, it is not the leaseholders of the farms who are really miserable, but the under-tenants, who are shamefully rack-rented by the farmers. But no one can do anything for them, since in their eagerness to obtain the land they will accept any combination proposed to them, in order to evade the law, which forbids sub-letting. I therefore believe that Mr. Gladstone’s defeat was a good thing for Ireland.
The Government’s first duty is to re-establish material order, and this can only be done by suppressing the jury. TheTimesalready speaks of it. There would certainly not be an uprising, or if there were, it would not be of any importance.
Rents would fall enormously, as they have already done all over Europe, and agriculture would disappear almost entirely, to give place to cattle-breeding.
Many signs prove that this will be the way a settlement will be arranged. It is first the enormous subsidies sent from America, and secondly the support given by the clergy, that have made this crisis so important and the League so powerful. Now the Americans begin to tire of it. After my return from Ireland I made a tour in the United States, and I can affirm that this sentiment is becoming visible. At a great Irish meeting held at Chicago whilst I was there, one of the orators ventured to say, that if the millions of dollars sent to Ireland were only used to pay for firing an occasional shot at a landlord from behind a hedge, the results were not in proportion to the sacrifices made, and the audience seemed to agree with his opinion. Ihave every reason to believe that lately the American subsidies have greatly diminished.
I fancy also that the clergy are only waiting for a good opportunity to withdraw from the League. The other day, Mr. Harrington, at Killarney, had already uttered some words which seem to indicate that politicians are beginning to fear something of the kind. The clergy entered the League in spite of themselves; the movement first showed itself with so much violence that had they left its exclusive direction in the hands of the politicians, they would have run the risk of compromising, at least for a time, all their popularity. But the Catholicism of many of the Irish-Americans, whose alliance they were forced to submit to, is so doubtful, that it is easy to foresee that the cause of religion will not gain anything from their triumph. I am quite convinced that the clergy will not long defer separating themselves from the League.
The movement itself may yet last for some time, but it will gradually become weaker. Everything depends on the rapidity with which emigration is conducted. Now, I believe it will be speedily carried out. Formerly, the Irish would not leave the country until they had absolutely no means of staying there. I always thought that they emigrated pretty willingly; but I was mistaken with regard to the past. Now, on the contrary, all the young men only think of expatriation. An Australian ex-official, who has retired about fifteen years, and is living in the county of Limerick, pointed out to me this change of feeling in the population. Every Irishman who leaves for Australia or the United States does more towards the solution of the crisis than Mr. Parnell’s finest speeches; for, indiminishing the number of competitors for the land, he lowers the price of farms, and the whole question is answered!
Mr. Parnell, and all the otherwise honourable men who give him their assistance, will not then succeed in re-establishing the independence of Ireland, nor in modifying to any visible extent the present political situation. We are convinced that after some years, when they see peace and relative prosperity restored to their country, they will not regret that they failed to carry out their programme; for we do them the honour to believe that they would be more contented with an arrangement that secured, as far as possible, the amelioration of their fellow-countrymen’s fate, than with the egotistical satisfaction which a momentary success would give them. If their only aim was to obtain revenge by the ruin of England for all the injuries she inflicted upon their fathers, they would certainly have some chance of success in continuing the struggle. But it is only too evident that instead of profiting by the downfall of English power, Ireland could only be crushed by the wreck.
So many sacrifices, so much devotion—have they all been expended to no purpose? Assuredly not. The shock given to Irish society by exposing all its misery has certainly assisted in ripening the question, of hastening its solution, and consequently of shortening the sufferings of all that too numerous class of the population who persist in remaining in their native land, although that land can no longer nourish them. A second Ireland already exists in America; a third will soon be founded in Australia or elsewhere. In the prosperity that they have found will the Irish retainthe religious faith, the morality, and the gaiety, which have supported and consoled their fathers through so many years of oppression and misery? Unfortunately, we are not quite sure. These fine qualities, which seem inherent in the race, receive very severe blows when it quits its native soil. Let us at least hope that they will be perpetuated amongst those who remain in the Emerald Isle, and that travellers will be able to continue paying them the homage that I have done when returning from a visit toPaddy at Home.
THE END.
[5]I scarcely believe this, but the Irish like to assert it.
Richard Clay and Sons,london and bungay.