Paddy at Home ("Chez Paddy")

by baron de E. Mandat-Grancey

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 made to 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 give them 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 the town, 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 exchange agent 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.