He dug up a
fairy-mount against my advice, and had no luck afterwards. [These
fairy-mounts are called ant-hills in England. They are held in high
reverence by the common people in Ireland. A gentleman, who in
laying out his lawn had occasion to level one of these hillocks,
could not prevail upon any of his labourers to begin the ominous
work. He was obliged to take a LOY from one of their reluctant
hands, and began the attack himself. The labourers agreed that the
vengeance of the fairies would fall upon the head of the
presumptuous mortal who first disturbed them in their retreat [See
GLOSSARY 11].] Though a learned man in the law, he was a little too
incredulous in other matters. I warned him that I heard the very
Banshee that my grandfather heard under Sir Patrick's window a few
days before his death. [The Banshee is a species of aristocratic
fairy, who, in the shape of a little hideous old woman, has been
known to appear, and heard to sing in a mournful supernatural voice
under the windows of great houses, to warn the family that some of
them are soon to die. In the last century every great family in
Ireland had a Banshee, who attended regularly; but latterly their
visits and songs have been discontinued.] But Sir Murtagh thought
nothing of the Banshee, nor of his cough, with a spitting of blood,
brought on, I understand, by catching cold in attending the courts,
and overstraining his chest with making himself heard in one of his
favourite causes. He was a great speaker with a powerful voice; but
his last speech was not in the courts at all. He and my lady,
though both of the same way of thinking in some things, and though
she was as good a wife and great economist as you could see, and he
the best of husbands, as to looking into his affairs, and making
money for his family; yet I don't know how it was, they had a great
deal of sparring and jarring between them. My lady had her privy
purse; and she had her weed ashes [See GLOSSARY 12], and her
sealing money [See GLOSSARY 13] upon the signing of all the leases,
with something to buy gloves besides; and, besides, again often
took money from the tenants, if offered properly, to speak for them
to Sir Murtagh about abatements and renewals. Now the weed ashes
and the glove money he allowed her clear perquisites; though once
when he saw her in a new gown saved out of the weed ashes, he told
her to my face (for he could say a sharp thing) that she should not
put on her weeds before her husband's death. But in a dispute about
an abatement my lady would have the last word, and Sir Murtagh grew
mad [See GLOSSARY 14]; I was within hearing of the door, and now I
wish I had made bold to step in. He spoke so loud, the whole
kitchen was out on the stairs [See GLOSSARY 15]. All on a sudden he
stopped, and my lady too. Something has surely happened, thought I;
and so it was, for Sir Murtagh in his passion broke a blood-vessel,
and all the law in the land could do nothing in that case. My lady
sent for five physicians, but Sir Murtagh died, and was buried. She
had a fine jointure settled upon her, and took herself away, to the
great joy of the tenantry. I never said anything one way or the
other whilst she was part of the family, but got up to see her go
at three o'clock in the morning.
'It's a fine morning, honest Thady,' says she; 'good-bye to ye.'
And into the carriage she stepped, without a word more, good or
bad, or even half-a-crown; but I made my bow, and stood to see her
safe out of sight for the sake of the family.
Then we were all bustle in the house, which made me keep out of
the way, for I walk slow and hate a bustle; but the house was all
hurry-skurry, preparing for my new master. Sir Murtagh, I forgot to
notice, had no childer [CHILDER: this is the manner in which many
of Thady's rank, and others in Ireland, formerly pronounced the
word CHILDREN]; so the Rackrent estate went to his younger brother,
a young dashing officer, who came amongst us before I knew for the
life of me whereabouts I was, in a gig or some of them things, with
another spark along with him, and led horses, and servants, and
dogs, and scarce a place to put any Christian of them into; for my
late lady had sent all the feather-beds off before her, and
blankets and household linen, down to the very knife-cloths, on the
cars to Dublin, which were all her own, lawfully paid for out of
her own money. So the house was quite bare, and my young master,
the moment ever he set foot in it out of his gig, thought all those
things must come of themselves, I believe, for he never looked
after anything at all, but harum-scarum called for everything as if
we were conjurors, or he in a public-house. For my part, I could
not bestir myself anyhow; I had been so much used to my late master
and mistress, all was upside down with me, and the new servants in
the servants' hall were quite out of my way; I had nobody to talk
to, and if it had not been for my pipe and tobacco, should, I
verily believe, have broke my heart for poor Sir Murtagh.
But one morning my new master caught a glimpse of me as I was
looking at his horse's heels, in hopes of a word from him. 'And is
that old Thady?' says he, as he got into his gig: I loved him from
that day to this, his voice was so like the family; and he threw me
a guinea out of his waistcoat-pocket, as he drew up the reins with
the other hand, his horse rearing too; I thought I never set my
eyes on a finer figure of a man, quite another sort from Sir
Murtagh, though withal, TO ME, a family likeness. A fine life we
should have led, had he stayed amongst us, God bless him! He valued
a guinea as little as any man: money to him was no more than dirt,
and his gentleman and groom, and all belonging to him, the same;
but the sporting season over, he grew tired of the place, and
having got down a great architect for the house, and an improver
for the grounds, and seen their plans and elevations, he fixed a
day for settling with the tenants, but went off in a whirlwind to
town, just as some of them came into the yard in the morning. A
circular letter came next post from the new agent, with news that
the master was sailed for England, and he must remit L500 to Bath
for his use before a fortnight was at an end; bad news still for
the poor tenants, no change still for the better with them. Sir Kit
Rackrent, my young master, left all to the agent; and though he had
the spirit of a prince, and lived away to the honour of his country
abroad, which I was proud to hear of, what were we the better for
that at home? The agent was one of your middlemen, who grind the
face of the poor, and can never bear a man with a hat upon his
head: he ferreted the tenants out of their lives; not a week
without a call for money, drafts upon drafts from Sir Kit; but I
laid it all to the fault of the agent; for, says I, what can Sir
Kit do with so much cash, and he a single man?
[MIDDLEMEN.—There was a class of men, termed middlemen, in
Ireland, who took large farms on long leases from gentlemen of
landed property, and let the land again in small portions to the
poor, as under-tenants, at exorbitant rents. The HEAD LANDLORD, as
he was called, seldom saw his UNDER-TENANTS; but if he could not
get the MIDDLEMAN to pay him his rent punctually, he WENT TO HIS
LAND, AND DROVE THE LAND FOR HIS RENT; that is to say, he sent his
steward, or bailiff, or driver, to the land to seize the cattle,
hay, corn, flax, oats, or potatoes, belonging to the under-tenants,
and proceeded to sell these for his rents. It sometimes happened
that these unfortunate tenants paid their rent twice over, once to
the MIDDLEMAN, and once to the HEAD LANDLORD.
The characteristics of a middleman were servility to his
superiors and tyranny towards his inferiors: the poor detested this
race of beings. In speaking to them, however, they always used the
most abject language, and the most humble tone and posture—'PLEASE
YOUR HONOUR; AND PLEASE YOUR HONOUR'S HONOUR,' they knew must be
repeated as a charm at the beginning and end of every equivocating,
exculpatory, or supplicatory sentence; and they were much more
alert in doffing their caps to those new men than to those of what
they call GOOD OLD FAMILIES.
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