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.
